Confession: My son is in the gun phase.
At least, I hope it's a phase.
At 12, he has a collection of 20 or so. Most are Airsoft guns that shoot pea-sized plastic pellets; a few are BB guns. In addition, he has an arsenal of water-blasting guns. He also wants one that shoots little marshmallows.
Another confession: I bought many of these guns, helped him buy others and let him use my credit card to buy yet more. So, I am enabling my son's gun habit.
I protested the Vietnam War, and a sign in front of our house says, "Another Family for Peace." Yet, I trip over guns in my son's room. I have been a vegetarian for more than 30 years, mostly of the vegan sort. I figure there's enough violence and sadness and misery in this world without adding the slaughter of people or animals.
But my son likes guns. How can this be?
When my son was born, I framed a colorful poster for his room: "Kids learn what they live. Don't buy war toys." I dreamed of a peace-loving son who would ignore the gun phase. I thought my running commentary on the state of the world would be more powerful than the lure of a laser-sited telescopic soft-air Uzi.
Forget it.
When his sister, born 10 years earlier, was young, I would just say, "We don't play with guns." She said, "OK." She had zero interest in guns. This is not to say that she played tea party all day. In a nod to gender-neutral child-rearing, she had baby dolls and tools, a bin of dress-up clothes and overalls, Barbies and trucks. And, she would strap those accessorized Barbies to the pick-up truck and send them on "danger rides" that ended in disturbing crashes.
But she had no guns, nor did she turn sticks into lasers.
Even before my son was born, I sought out articles in Mothering magazine about the debate over whether to allow boys to play with guns. Mothering articles came down squarely on the guns-equal-violence side of the equation.
I thought I could keep this phase at bay. When opening Playmobil toys of pirates and knights, I surreptitiously removed the tiny guns. But even at 4 years old, my son would study the back of the package for long stretches and then announce with great concern, "Mom, the pistol is missing!" Caught.
Before he was born, I admit that I felt superior to those mothers who couldn't control their sons' gun urges. As with most parenting dilemmas, I'm more humble now.
I've asked male friends about this gun thing. One of my co-workers says it's really a love of tools, of gadgets. This rings partly true. As soon as my son was past the age when we had to avoid small parts, he craved toys with many, many parts: Duplo, Legos, blocks, Playmobil and action figures with a closet full of violent accessories. My son, who after school can't remember one thing he did all day, will talk passionately for minutes at a time about ammo capacity, kick, scopes, triggers, pump action, detachable stock and quick-load mechanism on this or that gun.
During the school year, he did a report on the Marines, for which his sister vowed to kick him out of the family. The report was ostensibly on the history and function of the Marines, but mostly he drilled an -- unfortunately -- extremely friendly recruiter about which weapons he had and used.
A family friend, who, at 21, has returned wiser and more cynical from a tour of duty in Iraq, insists my son will grow out of this phase soon. Judging from the number of times he's asked me whether my son is still interested in guns, I think he thought this phase would last a week or two. From Iraq and often in danger, our soldier friend wrote: "I think that all boys go through that phase when they are kids, but they really don't think about the dangerous side or the outcome if something bad does happen. I really never thought about my actions or other people's actions until now."
While our friend was in Iraq, we included in one of our care packages a photograph of my son in front of our "Another Family for Peace" sign -- and others of him with his latest Airsoft rifle slung over his shoulder.
A few weeks before the end of the school year, about a week after the Virginia Tech shootings, the vice principal called me. My son was not in trouble, he assured me. But a teacher had noticed a drawing of his. In the drawing, creatures with guns were protecting a gem. The teacher had turned the drawing and my son over to the vice principal. Did I know about these drawings?
The vice principal and I had a reassuring chat. He acknowledged that he had grown up with hunting and BB guns. He said he just let my son know that drawings like that will draw the attention of teachers -- and are not such a great idea in school.
I said that I knew about the drawings but also thought my son was extremely peaceful. That's another thing about my son. He's an artist, in talent, in passion and spirit. He loves to draw and create, go to art museums, listen to music. He is kindhearted and generous -- and, occasionally, thoughtful and helpful. He is drawn to babies and small children and compassionate toward all animals. He lets bugs out of the house and rescues them from the pool. He worried daily about our friend in Iraq and wanted an end to that war as much as I did. And, when asked, he insists that his toy guns are just that -- toys, mere props in a fantasy world where he's fighting evil and usually, I hope, winning.
So do I have to worry about this interest in guns? Do I argue, refuse to buy guns, preach about the dangers of guns? Well, he already knows my position. And he's with me all the way on wanting an end to wars, rampant injustice, and real violence to people, animals and the planet.
So, as always, I'm choosing my battles. Toy guns are not one of them.
elisabeth.hoffman@baltsun.com