Home > Author > Matthew Olzmann
1 " Anyway, congratulations! You’re entering a world that’s increasingly hostile and cruel and full of people who’ll never take you seriouslythough that will be a mistake on their end. "
― Matthew Olzmann
2 " You whom I could not save,Listen to me. Can we agree Kevlarbackpacks shouldn’t be neededfor children walking to school? Those same childrenalso shouldn’t require a suitof armor when standingon their front lawns, or snipersto watch their backsas they eat at McDonalds.They shouldn’t have to stopto consider the speedof a bullet or how it mightreshape their bodies. Butone winter, back in Detroit,I had one studentwho opened a door and died. It was the frontdoor to his house, butit could have been any door,and the bullet could have writtenany name. The shooterwas thirteen years oldand was aimingat someone else. Buta bullet doesn’t careabout “aim,” it doesn’tdistinguish betweenthe innocent and the innocent,and how was the bulletsupposed to know thischild would open the doorat the exact wrong momentbecause his friendwas outside and screamingfor help. Did I sayI had “one” student whoopened a door and died? That’s wrong.There were many. The classroom of griefhad far more seatsthan the classroom for maththough every studentin the classroom for mathcould count the namesof the dead. A kid opens a door. The bulletcouldn’t possibly know,nor could the gun, because“guns don’t kill people,” they don’thave minds to decidesuch things, they don’t chooseor have a conscience,and when a man doesn’thave a conscience, we call hima psychopath. This is howwe know what type of assault riflea man can be,and how we discoverthe hell that thrums insideeach of them. Today,there’s anothershooting with deadkids everywhere. It was a school,a movie theater, a parking lot.The worldis full of doors.And you, whom I cannot save,you may open a doorand enter a meadow, or a eulogy.And if the latter, you will bemourned, then buriedin rhetoric. There will bemonuments of legislation,little flowers madefrom red tape. What should we do? we’ll askagain. The earth will closelike a door above you. What should we do?And that click you hear?That’s just our voices,the deadbolt of discoursesliding into place. "