Submitted by Dr. Sarah Thompson

Janalee Tobias hasn't checked her e-mail for a week. She cringes at what waits -- an avalanche of messages that will take her hours to read, let alone answer.

There will be invitations to speak, pleas to continue her good work, stories that make her cry, and universally one question: ''How do I get involved?''

To her pen pals, Tobias is a model gun activist -- a mother who speaks up fearlessly for the right to bear arms, the informed leader of a burgeoning grass-roots movement known as Women Against Gun Control.

There are other female-oriented gun groups, but Tobias and her organization are the first in Utah to tap the promising vein of non-corporate citizen activism.

These are doctors, housewives, secretaries, lawyers and grandmothers who say they've realized on their own the folly of gun control. They aren't a group of women hand-picked by the National Rifle Association. They don't have much clout with lawmakers yet, and they certainly aren't backed by big money.

Yet more join their regular ranks monthly, via the Internet, via word of mouth, via gun shows. They share the power of common thought that may be as much about what it means to be female in urban America as it is about the barrel of a gun.

The South Jordan woman didn't start with such raw energy behind her or even with the values she and more than 600 women from Boston to Albuquerque say they hold inviolate.

''My husband owned guns, and I couldn't understand his infatuation with them. I mean I bought into the idea that guns cause crime and we ought to get rid of them,'' she said.

Tobias wondered, too, about the safety of her three children. She was scared that her babies would be seriously injured by a loaded weapon no matter how well-secured it was.

Change came in the form of a challenge to Tobias' well-grounded sense of independence.

It began in late 1993 when Salt Lake Mayor Deedee Corradini proposed an ordinance requiring a seven-day wait for anyone under 25 who wanted to buy a gun. Two weeks later, she announced a gun buy-back program. On the heels of that came news that Hillary Rodham Clinton would ban handguns outright if she had her way.

''I started asking myself, 'Hey, do I really want to see more restrictions from the government?' So I began doing some research on my own,'' Tobias said.

She admits she consulted mostly pro-gun sources such as licensed dealers and statistics provided by the NRA, but she qualifies her lack of broad-based study with the idea that she already understood arguments supporting more restrictions.

Her study led her to a conclusion oft-repeated by gun supporters everywhere: Guns don't cause violence, people do. It's as true as it is simple, Tobias insists.

''If we could hermetically seal a city and rid it of all guns, do you really think there wouldn't be violence?''

Her conclusions firmly entrenched, Tobias organized a courthouse protest against Corradini's proposal. More than 50 people showed up -- many of whom would later make up the founding mothers of Women Against Gun Control.

''I remember at the time that all the biggest gun grabbers were women. I thought it was a terrible precedent to have women in positions of power trying to take away guns,'' Tobias said.

More now than ever, women should fight for the right to arm themselves if they choose, she reasons.

That philosophy is the defining difference between her organization and any other pro-gun group. It is, Tobias acknowledges, the group's femininity that attracts the kind of attention it receives.

''Women are supposed to hate guns and be scared of them. They are so visible nationally and locally as being anti-gun.'' Her group has begun to send a message to Utah and the nation that not all women are for gun control, Tobias said.

Since its birth two years ago, the organization has grown from six to nearly 600. It recently opened a chapter in New Mexico; a woman in Vermont wants to open one in her hometown, and Tobias gets inquiries regularly about organizing chapters elsewhere.

The group's monthly newsletter, titled ''The BULLETin,'' and logoed T-shirts are hot items at gun shows around the West. Tobias, herself, is the target of pro-gun advocacy organizations seeking a female perspective.

In fact, it is only the busy schedules of the WAGC women that have prevented more explosive growth, Tobias believes.

''It's really frustrating being a citizen activist. We take time off work, hold organizing meetings early in the morning and late at night, pay for long distance phone calls, pay for baby sitters and stamps,'' she said. ''It's hard work.''

So why continue?

''To me, it's simple,'' said Sarah Thompson, a founding member of Women Against Gun Control and a physician who earned her stripes in the emergency rooms of Los Angeles County. ''We live in a violent society, and the police have no legal obligation to protect any individual, therefore we have an obligation to protect ourselves and our loved ones. Women have to know that and learn how to practice it.''

The group found instant credibility and clout in a female physician convinced that gun-control doesn't work. ''Yes, I've seen the violence a gun can do. But I understand that banning them isn't the answer,'' Thompson tells anyone who will listen.

The solution is better -- even mandated -- education at the elementary school level, both Thompson and Tobias agree. Tobias acknowledges Women Against Gun Control is still in its philosophical infancy and will have to mature into a more defined platform to gain credibility.

Meantime, Tobias and others, including members of the New Mexico chapter, figure to play a big role in gun-related debates during their state legislative sessions.

e-mail Janalee Tobias at gunflower@aol.com