Another blogging day here filled with chaotic thoughts stemming from Boston. Social media is filled with pictures of an empty Boston. It is an eerie thing to behold. It’s as if Hollywood has carefully stopped regular life’s goings on to make another Armageddon film. Except that it is real.
It’s a scary thing, to see a town disturbed by violence, and yet most of the world knows this too well. It’s new here though.
Well, sort of new. After all, Oklahoma City knows violence. LA knows violence. Seattle knows violence. New York knows violence.
We all know violence, but many of us only know it via our televisions or newspapers. To have it in your actual life is a different thing indeed.
In my last year of teaching, I had two young men in my Composition I class. Both were new to the United States. One was from Sudan, the other from Serbia. In the short time they had been in the US, they had both found ways of assimilating the culture of youth. They dated, attended dances, laughed at bawdy jokes, did their homework.
Another thing they both did was share small bits of their younger lives with me.
It is a hard thing to hear a young man talk about hiding under dead bodies in hopes that the soldiers won’t notice. To hear of the murdering and looting and raping and horrors of adults fighting over things like religion.
One was known for his inability to feel pain. He was known for crazy stunts that would leave him bleeding but smiling, unconcerned over his broken flesh.
One was known for his sense of humor and kindness to his peers.
I’ve often thought of them both. I know they both had demons within their memories. I can only hope that as they grew into men, they found ways of real healing.
Because the world needs fewer empty streets and angry men bent on destroying others. And fewer little boys who grow up angry.