gun problem and its importance for society are
the costs of gun violence, which include not
only the costs stemming from gunshot injuries
but also the costs of all the efforts to deter
shootings or protect against them. For example,
it is estimated that the costs of gun violence in
the U.S. are approximately $116 billion per year
(in 2004 dollars). These costs increase our individual health insurance rates nationwide —
what does this mean?
Banning all guns is not suitable nor realistic
among public health prevention workers who
The Frisco Kid
JESSICA ZIMMERMAN
Born and raised in San Francisco, I was a Manhattan transplant during college, rabbinical school, and a few years beyond. In the liberal and intellectual enclaves
where I was educated — formally and informally — I did not know a single person who
would fathom owning a gun, let alone keeping
one in the glove compartment of their car.
Then, I moved to Phoenix.
It was 117 degrees outside on the day I arrived. On finding my air conditioner broken, I
set out to Trader Joe’s to fill my fridge with cold
drinks and lots of ice cream. There, I was greeted
by a huge sign hanging next to the entrance stating, “No Weapons on these Premises.” “No
weapons??” I mumbled audibly, “Trader Joe’s is
known for its tasty salsas and spiced pecans.
What is this about weapons?”
As I met people during my first weeks in
Phoenix, I started asking about the sign. I
learned that owning a gun in Arizona — even
within the Jewish community — wasn’t unusual. Apparently, I had chosen to become a
rabbi in the Wild West. As I met congregants, I’d
ask, “Do you have a gun?” With each affirmative
answer, my shock grew deeper and my questions
more incredulous. “Are there rabbis here with
guns? Where do you keep your gun? Why do you
have a gun?” People answered very openly about
their gun ownership. When I asked the middle-aged president of the congregation — a real estate
developer who drives a Cadillac convertible —
his answer concurred with many other people’s:
“Rattlesnakes,” he said. “Rattlesnakes??” I asked.
While I could not fathom the scene, I heard that
answer frequently. I never saw a rattlesnake in
Arizona, aside from the one behind glass in the
seek not to blame but rather to prevent, reduce,
and ameliorate substantial health risks. Public
health prevention strategies (before the injury)
that do seem to work to reduce gun-related “
accidents,” homicides, and suicides, include hospital and community-based programs (like
CeaseFire in Chicago) that work to stop victims
from shooting others — the most common form
of street gun violence. Effective strategies for reducing gun violence also include using tested
school curricula. These strategies would eventually prove economically wise.
SHMA.COM
Sonoran Desert Museum.
The conversation about guns dominated
my first few months in Phoenix. In addition to
the still-puzzling reptile explanation, some people told me that it was human intruders they
feared. They feel safer with a gun in the house,
they said, since it would allow them to protect
their families. Others told me that I shouldn’t
worry, since I had probably unknowingly been
in the presence of thousands of guns while riding the subway in New York. Still others told
me that we as Jews, should respect our
Constitutional right to bear arms, since many
Jewish communities throughout history had no
way to defend themselves from government-sanctioned anti-Jewish actions.
I never got used to the reality that many
people in Arizona (and elsewhere in America)
choose to exercise their right to carry a licensed gun. I often wondered if any of the
synagogue employees had a gun…or maybe
one of the parents of a student coming to a bat
mitzvah rehearsal in my office. Did the little
old lady in the front row on Friday night have
a gun in her purse?
One Shabbat, an argument broke out between two congregants. Before I moved to
Arizona, I would have felt sure that nothing
more sinister than yelling would take place between two members of a synagogue in the
parking lot. But once I realized that most of the
Jews in Arizona pack heat in case they encounter a particularly aggressive rattlesnake —
or fellow congregant?? — I couldn’t be so sure.
Half joking, I stepped between the two arguing
men and said, “Guys, you know we have a policy of no shooting in shul on Shabbes.”
Rabbi Jessica Zimmerman,
Synagogue 3000’s Director of
Congregational Engagement, is
passionate about helping
synagogues transform into
kehillot kedoshot — sacred
communities. Ordained at
HUC/NY in 2003, she began
her rabbinate as Marshall T.
Meyer Rabbinic Fellow at
Congregation B’nai Jeshurun in
Manhattan and then moved to
the Wild West to become the
Grace and Horace Goldsmith
Rabbi at Congregation Beth
Israel in Phoenix, Ariz.
