Thoughts on Boston

On Monday, someone as yet unidentified did something terrible in a city I love at an event that I respect.  I am, of course, speaking about the bombs planted at the finish line of the Boston Marathon.  It was an act of egregious cowardice, of hate, of evil against ordinary people celebrating the extraordinary achievements of the athletes running.

I lived in Boston for two years.  Boston is where I met C, my darling husband, during the 2000 presidential elections.  In 2010, we returned for a vacation and C ran the Boston marathon, not quite breaking the three hour barrier that was his goal.

I grieve for Boston, for all of those affected both directly and indirectly by the bombings.  But I know that Boston has a spirit of determination and I have faith in the resilience of humanity that we will recover from the tragedy.

This was my first "twitter disaster" - I learned about it via a tweet.  Crazy information and misinformation was flying around the internet.  It has, more than anything, brought home to me the power, the advantages and the disadvantages of the rapid flows of information in the world today.

In 1996, I was living in Paris when a bomb exploded on the metro.  It was on a line I used, at a time I might plausibly have been on the RER.  When I heard, I phoned my parents immediately to reassure them that I was unharmed.  The bombing had not made the US news, so the response was much less ecstatic than I expected.  No relieved praising of God, just a calm "Oh, I'm really glad to hear."

Again, in 1998, a bomb exploded in C's home town, causing some of the worst causalities in the Northern Ireland troubles.  When C told me the name of his hometown, Omagh, he paused pregnantly, expecting a reaction.  I spent the summer of 1998 teaching French in the woods of Minnesota.  I don't know for certain whether the bombing made headlines in other part of the US, but I know that I stared blankly at him, waiting for him to continue on to whatever he was going to say next.

I contrast that with the 24-hour news cycle now.  Endless press speculation, endless commentary to fill an imagined void, to satisfy the interest of observers when, really, there is no new information and some of the invented stories are harmful, pejorative, or simply cruel.  Social media facilitates the good - information appeared nearly immediately letting Boston residents know where the could donate blood to replenish stressed supplies - and the ugly - made-up stories about the death of a child from Sandy Hook in the bombing using old, unrelated photos.

In 1996, following the bombing, I had to make a decision.  Would I start walking to my classes instead of using public transportation?  I considered at length and decided that I would continue on as I had before.  To do otherwise would be to let "them" win.  I still remember the stickers that officials handed out on the metro in the following period - "attentif ensemble".  And I still feel that same resolve today.  We will attend the Boston marathon again (assuming C qualifies again).  I will watch with my children.  We will remain defiant of those who would take away our joy in the world.