This commentary is by Becca Balint of Brattleboro, a former middle school teacher, historian, and the first woman and first openly gay person to be president pro tempore of the Vermont Senate. She is a candidate for the U.S. House of Representatives.
The gravity of the political issues we’re debating often gets lost as the focus shifts to partisan politics. We sometimes talk more about the characters involved, the mechanisms of bill passage, and the disagreements over technicalities than we do about the necessity for real change.
On the issue of gun violence prevention, I am never distracted from the purpose of the work. That’s because while I’m the president pro tem of your state Senate now, I’ve spent my career as a middle school teacher.
I taught history and social studies at Marlboro Elementary, Guilford Central School, Flood Brook School, and the Community College of Vermont. I also taught library studies and tech at Washington Village School. Each year, no matter the school, I walked into my classroom hoping to empower my students and cultivate their knowledge and skills; I wanted them to become thriving members of our community.
But I also carried with me a fear every teacher knows so well: that I might be powerless to protect the children entrusted to me by their parents. And that fear is legitimate.
Between 2009 and 2020, 1,363 people in the United States were killed and 947 more were wounded in 240 mass shootings. According to Everytown for Gun Safety, “The United States is not the only country with mental illness, domestic violence, or hate-fueled ideologies, but our gun homicide rate is 25 times higher than other high-income countries. The difference is easy access to guns.” And as we’ve seen, schools are often the target.
The small Vermont towns I taught in — Marlboro, Guilford, Londonderry, Washington, Brattleboro — are the kind of places where we would say, “That would never happen here.” Not in our safe, quiet town. But they said the same in Parkland, Florida; Newtown, Connecticut; Sutherland Springs, Texas; Blacksburg, Virginia; and Roseburg, Oregon.
Mass shootings are indiscriminate. They hit small towns and big cities; the East Coast, West Coast, and everything in between. They are united by one factor: an assault rifle in the hands of someone who never should have had one.
There is no example more stark than Charleston. In 2015, a white supremacist in Charleston, South Carolina, who was legally prohibited from owning a firearm, was able to purchase one because of a gap in federal law. He used that gun to murder nine Black parishoners in the Emanuel AME Church.
In the Vermont State, I just led the passage of S.30, a bill that closes the Charleston Loophole, protects victims of domestic violence, and keeps guns out of our hospitals. Gov. Scott vetoed it.
I don’t view my legislative work — as state senator, majority leader, and now president pro tempore — as separate from my teaching career, but rather an extension of it. In both roles, my job is to fight for our kids. The ways in which I was unable to protect my students as their teacher, I can protect them as a lawmaker.
In 2018, we passed landmark gun violence prevention legislation, which made our communities safer. But my involvement in gun safety goes way back. I was the very first donor to Gun Sense Vermont, and I loudly pushed for these changes back when everyone said you can’t talk about guns in Vermont.
As a mom and as a teacher, I tried to show my students and my own children that standing up for what you believe is right and just, is worth any risk. I am reminding myself of that lesson every day as I continue to fight for gun safety in Vermont. The governor’s veto may make the fight a little bit harder, but I’m not giving up.
From the classroom to the Statehouse, I have put the needs of Vermont families first — fighting every day until our children are safe. You have my word, and so does Gov. Scott.
