On Sunday, Feb. 15, the Western Slope Mennonite Fellowship hosted a book preview and blacksmith demonstration at Bethel Chapel in Glenwood Springs , where a crowd of participants took turns slowly transforming a gun into a garden tool. At the forge was Mike Martin, heating and turning a gunstock barrel, instructing participants where and how to hammer the weapon. Mike was wearing a t-shirt proclaiming “STOP WAR” in the style of the “Star Wars” logo. His computer nearby was covered in blacksmithing stickers, and one that read “DISARM HATE.”
After the demonstration, the group went back inside the First United Methodist Church for a discussion and perhaps another share of the gumbo a member of the church provided.
There attendees were reminded of a passage in the Bible (Isaiah 2:4) that reads, “They shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruninghooks: nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more.” Mike, who took all the shop classes in high school, felt the resonance of this passage and its practical application in 2012 after the Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting.
His wife, Hannah Martin, was a first grade schoolteacher at the time. She recalled, “The number of kids who died was how many I had in class that day. It was heavy for us … I had kids who were terrified.” She would ask herself, “How do I tell kids they are safe without lying to them?” For Mike, that answer came in founding RawTools.
Hannah also continues to be engaged with that troubling question. This event at the church, following visits to the Glenwood Springs and Carbondale libraries the day prior, doubled as an opportunity to share her book, “Sparking Peace.”
The book revolves around gun violence, though in language appropriate for kids. Guns are never mentioned or shown directly. Instead, we enter the world through the relationship of children with their neighbor. After breaking her window, the kids are tasked with helping her clean her yard. The audience is given clues that this initially cold neighbor lost her child to gun violence. As they develop a closer bond, the wound is given more attention. At one point, the neighbor is at the anvil, hitting a gun with the largest hammer in the smithy. When a child asks an adult what is in the forge, the reply comes: “Something sad, that breaks hearts.”
Hannah mentioned the importance of participation. “I find that’s the most powerful part. It’s not just holding the tool, it’s being a part of the process, the transformation. It does something.”
Ayla Klein, a ninth grader from Roaring Fork High School, gave testimony on the experience. “While hitting it, it was cool to see that you can shape something like metal, that is somewhat unbreakable, and it was cool to melt and change that.” Asked if she could feel it bending, Klein replied, “Not very easily, but it was moving.” The gun barrel the group worked on that day was being reconfigured into a mattock, a planting tool used to break up soil and make room for new growth.
Mike made it clear that the choice of garden implements is more than a biblical reference. It reflects “the change in attitude from something that seems to solve problems quickly to a solution that takes time.” He described how people who own guns and people who don’t may both have the same reason: to protect their families. So often, the people who come to Mike with guns have personal work to find a new sense of safety, perhaps one based in community or mutual care.
RawTools works with inmates as well as civilians in what Mike calls restorative justice — working with systems to help people repair the harm they may have caused. He said he gets quite a lot of politically-motivated pushback for his efforts. Asked what “threat” there is in restorative justice, he replied, “I wish I knew,” with a laugh. “I think it’s the threat of the unknown, or ‘They’re going to take my guns away.’ It’s all volunteer, so we’re not forcing anyone.” People hear about the program mostly through word-of-mouth and choose to submit their weapons. About 70 blacksmiths across the nation are involved to some extent, helping people dispose of unwanted firearms, which Mike emphasized is not easily or safely accessible in many places.
As the discussion group went around reflecting on the evening and themes of transformation, Hannah and Martin’s children played nearby with Play-Doh. Moving through forms, a scorpion-humanoid was completed with a large stinger. Just as soon, its weapon was taken apart, its figure smushed tightly and altogether turned into a bowl. Nearby, another artist with a mold made a dragon into a potato chip (truly). The shifts were casual and unceremonious, as if transformation were the most natural thing in the world.