I know this poem,
Won’t be popular with some,
But by the time I was 13 years old,
I owned three guns,
A 12 gauge with a plug for pheasant, geese and ducks,
A 22 for ground stalking rabbits, squirrels and grouse,
And a BB for mucking about and learning how,
This was the America in which I grew up,
I’m not sure if it was right or wrong,
And I’m not necessarily proud,
But it was a whole,
Heck of a lot of fun,
And I know,
I’m not the only one.
- F#$! Trump: The America In Which I Grew Up
—
I wrote this poem during New Zealand’s +40 day lock down. More than anything, I think it offers a perspective of growing up on the brink of the urban / rural United States cityscape, and perhaps, introduces the notion that not everything with hunters, fisherman, conservationists and outdoors enthusiasts is necessarily straight forward in the US of A.
A common thread I hear suggested whilst living abroad is that U.S. Americans are just a bunch of power, money, hungry, grubby, racist, ignorant, disrespectful, gun owning idiots, which in my experience is untrue. The “America in which I grew up,” a privileged one indeed, was one in which my family and close friends enjoyed an unbridled and incredible sense of liberty and freedom, full of time spent outdoors in America’s most beautiful wild places that led to a childhood and education that I would not trade for anything. It was also one in which the adults I interacted with taught and practiced not only the utmost respect for all human beings and firearms (safety at the forefront), but also the natural world we were so fortunate to access at our literal door steps, something that the Trump administration threatens to take away more of every day (Watch Public Trust). I’ve never tried to explain my poetry before so there it goes… timely as it may be.
Only Love,
Benny Sip