A Reflection on Recent Acts of Terrorism Around the World
This post originally appeared on CAPA World Blog in November 2015 and is dedicated to the victims of the November 2015 Paris attacks.
In the aftermath of the attacks in Paris and the emotional shockwaves they've sent through London and the world, trying to put thoughts of terrorism aside to write about myself just seems like something I can't and shouldn't do.
Everyone keeps saying to be strong. Move on. Try not to let it affect you. You can't live in fear, because that's what terrorists want you to do. And all of that may be true. But here are the other truths:
I was six years old when the twin towers went down, and the entire incident has always been cloaked in the surreal, nightmarish haze of tragedies read from a history book. I understood it, was saddened by it, but I was too young to feel the fear, and because of that it feels distanced from immediate reality.
I was in Paris four weeks ago, ducking in and out of shops and restaurants, flowing with the crowds, strolling the brightly-lit night streets, drinking in the life of the city. When I heard the news of the attacks, from the safety of London, my first thought was I was just there. Then the thought changed a little. I could have been there. And then the immediate feeling of detached sympathy began to peel away, and a heaviness settled in my stomach, sinking, sinking, along with my illusion of safety. It could have been here. And that's when I realized that it could have been anywhere, and it has been everywhere.
Over the past few days, the Paris tragedy has stemmed a flood of reactions from around the world — sadness, outrage, sympathy, support, and a show of unity against terrorism. But there has been anger, too. Because it just keeps happening. And because often, as with the recent attacks in Baghdad and Beirut, we don't even hear about it, or we don't make as big of a deal out of it as we should. Sometimes, when you're far from the action, safe and sound a sea away, these distant, terrible events feel just that — far away. It's not that you don't care. There's just a level of reality missing. It's horrible and unreal and virtually unbelievable. And that's how it's always been for me.
But this time, on my own in a major metropolis in a foreign country, two hours from the site of a terrorist attack, nothing had ever felt more real, and the gravity of it all hit me like a punch in the gut. And as awful as that felt, I recognized it as a sign of growth in myself. Because no matter how much I studied in school or followed the news, no matter what I read in textbooks or found on the internet, no matter what I imagined from the physically separated, first-world security of America, I could never have gained the same level of global understanding and empathy as I have from being out in the world.
Waiting on a train for hours outside the channel tunnel as refugees tried to flee for their lives, being held up at an airport in Italy for security regulations, living in a city full of immigrants from every corner of the globe, hearing the news of devastating acts of violence committed just hours away — these experiences have made me realize how everything happening in the world is important everywhere, how every human incident is relevant to all people, how everyone is connected.
Being abroad has made the whole world seem close, and most of all, it has made the whole world seem real. And that's why I don't regret being here despite what happened in Paris, and why others shouldn't be deterred from studying abroad and traveling and exploring and learning. Because even when these things happen — especially when they happen — you will feel like a part of things that have never quite reached you before, and you will see everything differently, and that, little by little, is what will inspire action and create change.
Like the rest of the world, I will move on. I will try to be strong. I will do my best not to be afraid, because anything could happen at any time, anywhere, and I have to go out and live in the time I have. But this does affect me. It affects everyone. And now more than ever, even though we might be far apart, the world needs to stand together. Because these things show us that no matter our language or country or culture, in the ways that matter, we're not so different at all.