When I was growing up, my parents had a strict rule about the toys I played with: no guns.

All of my G.I. Joes were stripped of their weapons. My brother and I never owned squirt guns, cap guns or Nerf guns.

Without exception, the largest “no” was the BB gun. The reason might have been either that I would shoot my eye out or shoot the neighbor’s kid. As smart parents, they didn’t trust me.

I’ve never actually used a firearm, and no one in my family owns a gun. However, I’ve still been a constant supporter of Second Amendment rights. I’ve lived the sheltered life of an ultra-liberal, and the shame has eaten away at me. I’ve felt so un-American.

Finally, after two years, I’ve managed to learn something useful at the University: how to properly and safely fire a gun.

On Saturday, I stumbled out of bed to catch an early morning ride out to the St. Joseph Sportsman Club to meet with members of the Illini Trap and Skeet Club. It was time to put an end to my inexperience with guns.

What exactly does it take to shoot a gun for the first time? It doesn’t take much. First, I signed a waiver and admitted that if I got hurt, I’d accept personal responsibility for my actions. Next, Ron Reinhardt, one of the instructors, walked me through the basic safety measures. He showed me how to operate a shotgun and explained the differences between trap and skeet shooting. Then, I donned a shooting vest, a box of 12 gauge shells, hearing protection and a gun. It was time to shoot some clay.

We headed out to the trap range and Ron showed me how to properly hold and stand with the gun. With the rain dancing along the back of my neck, I shouldered the shotgun and took aim.

Pull!

A small orange disc escaped out of the house in front of me. My body turned with the gun. I had no real idea of when to shoot, but in the time it takes to blink twice, the lead shot was on its way to cut the flight of the clay short. The butt of the gun slammed into my shoulder from the recoil. The shell ejected out to my right.

“You got it.”

My mind filled with pride and excitement. The feeling was almost indescribable. Watching the clay disc explode like the Death Star, I couldn’t believe my first shot actually hit a moving target. Too bad it was beginner’s luck. I hit maybe five or six out of 25 during the first round.

Later, in the clubhouse, I listened to the members talk. They told hunting tales and anecdotes about their pet

retrievers. The club members were genuine people who had found a passion in their lives that was as interesting as any other sport or hobby. These men were not the “gun freaks” that liberals such as Michael Moore believe populate the rural landscape of our country.

Maybe if gun opponents would take the time to listen to what legitimate and safe users of firearms have to say, their perception of our greatest national tradition would change. Don’t believe the lies that declare guns and the people who own them as dangerous. After all, I spent a morning surrounded by guns and ammunition, and I still had all my body parts attached to me. In fact, the Illini Trap and Skeet Club has had a perfect safety record since it was founded in 1982. Every step and measure is taken to minimize and eliminate danger.

If you are against firearms, but have never fired one before, I recommend that you take the time to go shooting at least once. Put aside your prejudices, challenge yourself and face your fears. Give guns a fair chance and I’ll bet that your perception of guns will change.

Kiyoshi Martinez is a junior in LAS. His column runs Tuesdays. He can be reached at [email protected]