The world can be a violent place. Everyday there’s more and more footage of panic and sadness in the streets flooding our TVs, laptops and phones. More often than not that panic is somewhere unrecognizable to me; the sadness of the people is not familiar. On April 15th, 2013 that changed. The blood on the sidewalk was pooling where I was standing just days before; the ash covering the skyline I can see every morning; the reality of the panic in the faces echoing within me.
I moved to Boston years ago and have always considered myself safe. That hasn’t changed, and the bombings at the marathon this week have not instilled fear in me or in the city. It’s clear to see that holds true from the second the ash filled the air as others ran toward the blast to help those caught helplessly off-guard by the cowardice explosions.
Now, two days later, the north east is chanting “we are strong,” and I’d like to think that “we” go beyond Bostonians, beyond Americans, and are those of us who are sick of the violence and might just be the ones running toward danger to help someone hurt regardless of race, religion or politics. There will always be those around us that wish to do harm in one way or another but, yes, “we” are strong.
So as I turn on the news and may happen upon devastation elsewhere across the world, I would like to think I’ll be able to feel an unfortunate but real connection with the panic and sadness in the faces of those on film… I’d like to think I will chant “we are strong.”