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In the news business, there are a couple of crude, but firm, rules. One is, "If it bleeds, it leads," another is "Man Bites Dog," and then there are the "3Gs" of broadcasting-the "Gs" stand for "God," "Guns" and "Gays"-all of which are guaranteed to generate letters to the editor, television viewership and talk radio calls. Print media-books, magazines and newspapers-don't have official ratings periods like broadcast, but they do adhere to many of the same rules, and for the same reason: circulation is what drives advertising rates. The following headline, from a recent Associated Press (AP) hits many of the rules: "Packin' heat?. . . a novice shares the choice she made" The "Packin' Heat" is a twofer-it covers, by implication the "If it bleeds, it leads" trope and it also smacks one of the Gs-guns. At the same time, it nuzzles the general media's idea of "Man Bites Dog;" that is, an everyday occurrence turned on its head, because of the "she" in the headline. Despite nearly 20 years of news, magazine, television, radio and book coverage of women gunowners (for convenience sake, we date this "modern" era from 1989 which saw the introduction of S&W's LadySmith line and the debut of this publication), it's still a notion which hits many editors and producers idea of "Man Bites Dog." Anita Chang's personal story is datelined Columbus, Ohio, which state won a long battle for concealed carry licensing last year. "I sat in my seat for several moments, just looking at the smooth metal of the barrels and the darkness of the empty chambers. I was surprised at how much they looked like the toys my brother and I used to shoot each other with when we were kids," she wrote "Tentatively, I stuck out my index finger and spun the cylinder on the revolver. Cooool. It was the first time I'd ever touched a handgun." Chang writes that she's young-looking for her age and slight of stature and that, over the years, she's occasionally been concerned with her personal safety, taking up boxing and buying pepper spray. But, she continues, "That was before the harassment on the highway." An incident in which she was in her car and followed by two men on motorcycles who seemed determine to, at minimum, scare her, left her feeling more than uneasy. "Two miles later, I turned and the jerks kept going straight. I turned into the grocery store parking lot, and sat there, shaking and sweaty. "Why was I so powerless to protect myself? That was my first thought. "My second thought: I need a gun." Chang then detailed some of the laws surrounding concealed carry licensing, reporting, "While a precise national figure is not known, tens of thousands of people in Ohio already have received permits to carry concealed handguns. I thought I ought to become one of them." She arranged a class at New Albany Shooting range, in which she felt she was the youngest student in a group divided almost equally between men and women. Chang's day-long class involved classroom instruction and live-fire. "After stationary target shooting, we had a new challenge. A target with the silhouette of a man's torso and head was programmed to move toward the shooter from 50 feet away at about the speed of someone running. "The instructors told us to yell, "Stop!"-which in real life would, you hope, get the attacker to pause-then shoot five times. "When the newsprint target started fluttering toward me, I squeaked 'Stop' as authoritatively as I could, then squeezed the trigger five times fast. "I missed. "I thought: What if I had a concealed gun and was confronted? Would I have the time, not to mention the composure, to pull the gun out, aim and shoot accurately? If I didn't bobble the gun and shoot my foot, there's still no guarantee that the bad guy wouldn't just snatch the gun out of my hand." She wrote about Ohio's laws on use of deadly force and wrote, "The class made it clearer than ever: Owning a gun is a huge responsibility. Not only do you have to know the law inside and out, not only do you have the cost of the gun itself and firing range time to keep skills current, but you have to keep close tabs on a firearm at all times. "After thinking it over, I paid $45 and got the concealed carry license. "Why not? I completed the class and scored 100% on the open-book test at the end of the day. It's my right as a law-abiding citizen, after all. "The card looks like a driver's license, and I made sure to smile nicely because I knew I'd be showing it to a lot of people. I keep it in my wallet, where it's stuck in a stack of grocery receipts, business cards and dry cleaning tickets. It's a great conversation piece. "I feel better-safer-with the license." And then Chang, like so many women journalists before her, pulls her punch, "Maybe one day I'll change my mind and get a gun, too," the piece concludes. I don't want Chang to carry a gun, or even buy one, if despite her personal experience and her training, she's still not comfortable with the idea. Bu I wonder about a woman who thinks a "great conversation
piece" like a concealed carry license, would do her much
good when she's in danger again.
Photo © Copyright 1998 Nancy Floyd, used with permission. |