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Our Kids Are Hard Wired for Fear [1]
['This Content Is Not Subject To Review Daily Kos Staff Prior To Publication.']
Date: 2025-06-23
If you’re a thinking, caring American, you probably ain’t got much more room for shame. But after what happened this past week at the most wholesome, kid friendly event 6700 young people could possibly attend, here’s one more reason to shake our heads at ourselves.
Thursday, in Des Moines, Iowa, a past champion walked on stage between speakers and interrupted the flow. He had a backpack. He set it down and asked if anyone wanted to hear a joke. (Afterwards, many witnesses compared it with a scene from the recent Joker movie – a film about a supervillain from the Batman franchise).
My nine-year-old granddaughter who was in the audience said to me after, “Thirty years ago, Grummy, if someone walked on stage and asked if you wanted to hear a joke – you’d expect a joke. We expected to be shot!”
Full disclosure – I love the National Speech and Debate Association (NSDA). I’ve been a debate judge since my kids were in high school back in 2001. And a few years back, Maine honored me as Judge of the Year. Despite my partiality, I’d like to say that in the aftermath of the scare and subsequent stampede, the NSDA did a remarkable job, providing counselors and safe spaces for kids who were frightened.
Everyone, me included, was infinitely grateful that no one was seriously hurt – to quote Maggie – that no one was shot! But seriously, America. We can’t do better than this?
Last week (the 100-year anniversary of the NSDA) when Jayden Roccaforte triggered the fear that countless mass shooter drills have instilled in our children, I was at a suburban Des Moines school judging middle school congress. I spoke to my son, John and his daughter Maggie mere moments after Roccaforte walked onto the main stage where an estimated 1000 or more gathered to hear speeches delivered by finalists in Humorous Interpretation (HI).
I’d tell you more – but I’m going to let Maggie do it. Even though she was frightened – or maybe because of it – she told me that she wanted to write a speech about it. Next year, as a fifth grader, she will be able to compete in middle-school Speech and Debate competition, herself.
I told her to write down what happened, so she wouldn’t forget the details.
Here’s what she wrote. She titled it, Run Away?
I was sitting in my seat when the Humorous Interpretation (HI) announcer announced the next contestant. As she walked on the stage, people started noticing a man in his early twenties on the stage to her right. A male in his 20s… actually… probably… a kid!
At first I stared thinking, “Oh, he’s just part of the act.”
But then I saw his bag. The young man said, “Aren’t you guys getting bored?” He asked, “Would you guys like to hear a real joke?”
Instantly some of the upcoming HI speakers’ friends on her team shouted, “Run away!” She repeated, “Run away?” As if she’d been asking a question.
Okay so that should have been fine. But of course, she had been wearing a microphone and connected to the speaker system. Everyone went bonkers!
Now, if you weren’t there, you probably wouldn’t understand. But as a finalist, she would have known if someone else was supposed to come on stage in the middle of her HI. Her saying, “run,” implied that he shouldn’t have been up there.
People got scared. Scared people run.
People wearing high heels kicked them off. Sandals came off. Bags, phones, beverages, all went bye, bye.
It. Was. Scary.
The resulting stampede was actually the only potentially deadly part of the whole thing. The floor was covered with discarded or lost items. Some people tripped. People running for their lives went over them.
Meanwhile the man on the stage was dancing.
We ran outside the convention center. Once we were safely up a hill, looking down at the scene, we hid behind a tree. When we got to safety, I asked my papa, “What happened?” My father explained with the most frightening thing any of us could hear. “People were afraid he had a gun, Maggie.”
The police got there. After a few minutes, the NSDA emailed my dad. Everyone was safe. The young man had no weapon.
He. Was. Unarmed.
Shootings are so common, that when someone acts out of the ordinary… When someone has a backpack and wants to dance or tell a joke, we assume we’ll be shot.
Like nearly everyone else in the auditorium at that time, me and my papa and our friends lost our bags. We lost the souvenirs we’d purchased for our loved ones back home. The enemy in the room that day, wasn’t a confused man who inappropriately took the stage. The enemy is fear – fear I’ve been taught to have since kindergarten.
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