Paris
I was going to try to get more done this afternoon, but I've spent more time than expected on the computer, looking at the news from Paris. My heart aches for the victims of this atrocity. The scale of the attacks is truly awful. My heart aches also for those affected by the bombings in Lebanon earlier in the day, where over 40 people were killed by the so-called Islamic State.
Events like this bring out the best in people as well as the worst. Parisians on twitter created a hashtag to offer to open up their homes to strangers who needed a place to get inside. The hospitals issued a call for blood donations, and as morning arrives in Paris people are queing up to donate and crashing the blood donation service's website with the sheer numbers who are trying to find out how to best give of themselves. I'm sure as more survivors' stories are told we will hear many tales of people risking or giving their lives to protect others.
But on the flip side, incidents like this have the potential to bring out cruelty in the responses, as if the evil of the attacks wasn't already enough. If policy-makers restrict rights excessively in pursuit of unachievable security and if people take out their anger at the extremists on peaceful Muslims, then the terrorists win. Terrorists want fear. They want to ignite a holy war. We can vanquish them only by keeping our society open and free and by living our lives in a spirit of love, peace, and multiculturalism.
I've been to Paris once, back in 2006. I was visiting a college friend who was attending theatre school there. In many ways Paris was exactly what I'd hoped and expected to see. Art, museums, and historical monuments were everywhere. People carried bags of baguettes through the street. A mime juggled on the subway. My friend took me to parties with her friends, an international mix of Bohemian artist-types. (One of them looked uncannily like Johnny Depp; when he greeted me with a double cheek kiss I was rather glad that my inability to speak French gave an excuse for making a garbled response, because I was dazzled enough that I don't think I could have managed full sentences in English right then.) One day we had to reroute ourselves around a protest march of some sort. It was beautiful and sophisticated and lively and all that a city should be. There were only two things that really surprised me about Paris: (1) here in the US, Parisians have a reputation for being super rude, but this was not my experience at all. People in Paris (including strangers on the street, not just friends of my friend) were no ruder to me than people in any other large city. Given how little I spoke of the language most were remarkably patient and welcoming. (2) I knew that Paris was a multicultural city these days, but I was still a bit surprised by just how much of a rainbow of humanity lives there. It looked at least as diverse as New York. I liked it.
I hope that despite the death and horror the people of Paris can hold on to their kindness and multiculturalism. I hold in light the people of Paris and all those whose lives were touched by this tragedy. I pray that the carnage stops here.
Events like this bring out the best in people as well as the worst. Parisians on twitter created a hashtag to offer to open up their homes to strangers who needed a place to get inside. The hospitals issued a call for blood donations, and as morning arrives in Paris people are queing up to donate and crashing the blood donation service's website with the sheer numbers who are trying to find out how to best give of themselves. I'm sure as more survivors' stories are told we will hear many tales of people risking or giving their lives to protect others.
But on the flip side, incidents like this have the potential to bring out cruelty in the responses, as if the evil of the attacks wasn't already enough. If policy-makers restrict rights excessively in pursuit of unachievable security and if people take out their anger at the extremists on peaceful Muslims, then the terrorists win. Terrorists want fear. They want to ignite a holy war. We can vanquish them only by keeping our society open and free and by living our lives in a spirit of love, peace, and multiculturalism.
I've been to Paris once, back in 2006. I was visiting a college friend who was attending theatre school there. In many ways Paris was exactly what I'd hoped and expected to see. Art, museums, and historical monuments were everywhere. People carried bags of baguettes through the street. A mime juggled on the subway. My friend took me to parties with her friends, an international mix of Bohemian artist-types. (One of them looked uncannily like Johnny Depp; when he greeted me with a double cheek kiss I was rather glad that my inability to speak French gave an excuse for making a garbled response, because I was dazzled enough that I don't think I could have managed full sentences in English right then.) One day we had to reroute ourselves around a protest march of some sort. It was beautiful and sophisticated and lively and all that a city should be. There were only two things that really surprised me about Paris: (1) here in the US, Parisians have a reputation for being super rude, but this was not my experience at all. People in Paris (including strangers on the street, not just friends of my friend) were no ruder to me than people in any other large city. Given how little I spoke of the language most were remarkably patient and welcoming. (2) I knew that Paris was a multicultural city these days, but I was still a bit surprised by just how much of a rainbow of humanity lives there. It looked at least as diverse as New York. I liked it.
I hope that despite the death and horror the people of Paris can hold on to their kindness and multiculturalism. I hold in light the people of Paris and all those whose lives were touched by this tragedy. I pray that the carnage stops here.