Learning 'what other people don't want you to know about'
After I called Citizens Rifle and Revolver Club president Carol Katona to sign up for Women's Day at the Range, I viewed my upcoming experience on mostly a conceptual level. It was fun to call friends and relatives to brag, "Guess what? I'm going shooting. Yes —guns!" I endured a lot of teasing and several people jokingly warned, "Watch out, those rifles have a kick," which led to visions of me clinging to a Rambo-style automatic while it shot round after round, completely out of my control.
The jokes was amusing enough at first, but by the time I arrived at Citizens R & R in Princeton Junction on a hot Saturday morning, I felt indignant and ready to take out my aggression on some innocent paper targets. Yes, I'm 5'2", I sit at a desk all day, and BB guns make me nervous, but I was going learn how to shoot.
National Rifle Association instructor Dawn Richardson, who was wearing a pink T-shirt proclaiming that "Firearms are the ultimate feminine protection," demonstrated how to use a handgun, followed by lessons by other NRA instructors on the rifle and shotgun.
Above all we learned the fundamental firearm-safety rules: Always treat every firearm as if were loaded; always keep firearms pointed in a safe direction, and always keep your finger off the trigger until you are ready to shoot. Besides being completely necessary, these common sense rules made me feel much better about gripping a potentially deadly weapon.
And yes, there was some kind of illicit pleasure in the whole thing, as instructor Dave Williams told us: "I'm teaching you what other people don't want you to know about — firearms."
NRA instructor and club secretary Judy Iorio told us that 10 years ago, she never thought she'd be shooting.
"We're normal, everyday, regular people," she said, something that other R&R members stressed throughout the day. This made it clear to me that they have to deal with a lot of people who think otherwise.
After Ms. Iorio went over the range safety rules, we were ready to go, and I headed to the indoor range to learn how to shoot a rifle. I probably should have stayed there all day, considering my performance with the rifle was far better than with any other gun. (I am relatively comfortable with any activity that involves being seated in an air-conditioned room.)
Feeling confident, I made my way outside where other women were shooting clay pigeons. It did not come as a surprise that I was terrible at shooting clay pigeons. Years of less-than-stellar attempts at passing a football, playing darts, throwing horseshoes, etc., demonstrated that my aiming skills left a lot to be desired.
I did very well with the rifle because I could look at a clear target through the focus. This reminded me of going to the optometrist and made me think that all those childhood visits were worthwhile. But shooting a clay pigeon with a shotgun involved entirely too much coordination for me: positioning and gripping, sight alignment, breath control, follow through ...
In addition to concentrating on all this, I had to hold the shotgun, which sounds obvious but was definitely challenging because a) it was very large, and b) I'm not particularly strong. This fact was made evident by how sore my arms were the next day.
Despite extremely patient guidance by my instructor, by the time I got over all this trauma I felt good about being able to shoot the gun at all, even if my errant shots were less likely to hit the clay pigeon than they were a cluster of tree branches.
Next I headed over to the pistol range and met up with Gene Zeiss, a firearm instructor with the New Jersey Department of Corrections. Mr. Zeiss is a big, tough-looking guy who called us "Ma'am," but also an extremely patient teacher.
His group consisted of me, Shirley Czech of Linden who came to Women's Day at the Range with her grown daughter, and Ashley Bohem of Clinton, who just turned 11 and is a member of a girls' pistol team headed by her grandfather, Bob Reviello, who brought her to Women's Day.
By this point I was a bit shaky, the heat had gotten to me, and I was sweating my safety goggles right off my face. Mr. Zeiss held them up and urged me to "relax, relax, relax" as I fired away, and I did fairly well with some practice. When he brought a bigger gun (the same one he teaches police officers to shoot), I got nervous again. I took a turn with it anyway, since quitting was not an option with Mr. Zeiss.
Ashley was by far the best shot out of the three of us. She told me that she has been shooting since she was 4 or 5, assisted by her grandfather, who said that she is highly aware of gun safety and respect. Ms. Czech came to the range so she could better learn how to use the semi-automatic rifle that she has at home.
The personal challenge was what I enjoyed most, and I found shooting a stress-reliever not because it burned off aggression, but because it required an intense concentration that made me forget about everything aside from me, the gun and the target.
Lorie Hurley of Ewing, who had never picked up a shotgun, was euphoric after shooting 27 clay pigeons in a row. I surprised myself at the end of the day by feeling the same way she did. All she could say was, "It was awesome. I want to do more."
http://www.zwire.com/site/news.cfm?newsid=5065928&BRD=1091&PAG=461&dept_id=425695&rfi=6
After I called Citizens Rifle and Revolver Club president Carol Katona to sign up for Women's Day at the Range, I viewed my upcoming experience on mostly a conceptual level. It was fun to call friends and relatives to brag, "Guess what? I'm going shooting. Yes —guns!" I endured a lot of teasing and several people jokingly warned, "Watch out, those rifles have a kick," which led to visions of me clinging to a Rambo-style automatic while it shot round after round, completely out of my control.
The jokes was amusing enough at first, but by the time I arrived at Citizens R & R in Princeton Junction on a hot Saturday morning, I felt indignant and ready to take out my aggression on some innocent paper targets. Yes, I'm 5'2", I sit at a desk all day, and BB guns make me nervous, but I was going learn how to shoot.
National Rifle Association instructor Dawn Richardson, who was wearing a pink T-shirt proclaiming that "Firearms are the ultimate feminine protection," demonstrated how to use a handgun, followed by lessons by other NRA instructors on the rifle and shotgun.
Above all we learned the fundamental firearm-safety rules: Always treat every firearm as if were loaded; always keep firearms pointed in a safe direction, and always keep your finger off the trigger until you are ready to shoot. Besides being completely necessary, these common sense rules made me feel much better about gripping a potentially deadly weapon.
And yes, there was some kind of illicit pleasure in the whole thing, as instructor Dave Williams told us: "I'm teaching you what other people don't want you to know about — firearms."
NRA instructor and club secretary Judy Iorio told us that 10 years ago, she never thought she'd be shooting.
"We're normal, everyday, regular people," she said, something that other R&R members stressed throughout the day. This made it clear to me that they have to deal with a lot of people who think otherwise.
After Ms. Iorio went over the range safety rules, we were ready to go, and I headed to the indoor range to learn how to shoot a rifle. I probably should have stayed there all day, considering my performance with the rifle was far better than with any other gun. (I am relatively comfortable with any activity that involves being seated in an air-conditioned room.)
Feeling confident, I made my way outside where other women were shooting clay pigeons. It did not come as a surprise that I was terrible at shooting clay pigeons. Years of less-than-stellar attempts at passing a football, playing darts, throwing horseshoes, etc., demonstrated that my aiming skills left a lot to be desired.
I did very well with the rifle because I could look at a clear target through the focus. This reminded me of going to the optometrist and made me think that all those childhood visits were worthwhile. But shooting a clay pigeon with a shotgun involved entirely too much coordination for me: positioning and gripping, sight alignment, breath control, follow through ...
In addition to concentrating on all this, I had to hold the shotgun, which sounds obvious but was definitely challenging because a) it was very large, and b) I'm not particularly strong. This fact was made evident by how sore my arms were the next day.
Despite extremely patient guidance by my instructor, by the time I got over all this trauma I felt good about being able to shoot the gun at all, even if my errant shots were less likely to hit the clay pigeon than they were a cluster of tree branches.
Next I headed over to the pistol range and met up with Gene Zeiss, a firearm instructor with the New Jersey Department of Corrections. Mr. Zeiss is a big, tough-looking guy who called us "Ma'am," but also an extremely patient teacher.
His group consisted of me, Shirley Czech of Linden who came to Women's Day at the Range with her grown daughter, and Ashley Bohem of Clinton, who just turned 11 and is a member of a girls' pistol team headed by her grandfather, Bob Reviello, who brought her to Women's Day.
By this point I was a bit shaky, the heat had gotten to me, and I was sweating my safety goggles right off my face. Mr. Zeiss held them up and urged me to "relax, relax, relax" as I fired away, and I did fairly well with some practice. When he brought a bigger gun (the same one he teaches police officers to shoot), I got nervous again. I took a turn with it anyway, since quitting was not an option with Mr. Zeiss.
Ashley was by far the best shot out of the three of us. She told me that she has been shooting since she was 4 or 5, assisted by her grandfather, who said that she is highly aware of gun safety and respect. Ms. Czech came to the range so she could better learn how to use the semi-automatic rifle that she has at home.
The personal challenge was what I enjoyed most, and I found shooting a stress-reliever not because it burned off aggression, but because it required an intense concentration that made me forget about everything aside from me, the gun and the target.
Lorie Hurley of Ewing, who had never picked up a shotgun, was euphoric after shooting 27 clay pigeons in a row. I surprised myself at the end of the day by feeling the same way she did. All she could say was, "It was awesome. I want to do more."
http://www.zwire.com/site/news.cfm?newsid=5065928&BRD=1091&PAG=461&dept_id=425695&rfi=6
