An American's View of the Paris Attacks

A little over a week ago, on the 14th of November in Paris, there were a series of attacks. Many were killed. Even more were wounded. Even more, around the country, around the world, were touched in an unexplainable way. As was I.

From my vantage point in Grenoble, France, that Friday was a normal night. I was planning to go with some friends to see a concert in Lyon. Plans changed, however, when I decided I was going to climb at Presles in the Vercors Mountain range the next morning. Surprise, right? I went to bed early, content, focused, ready for the next morning with bags packed.

I woke up and made coffee. I made breakfast. I poured some orange juice. I opened my computer. . .to 9 messages and many, many notifications. I opened the first one. . ."Are you OK? What the hell is going on over there?" I had no idea. I said I was OK. I said I was OK to the other 8 people, as well, without looking at the news. By the end I had an idea of what had happened. I felt. . .shocked. And immediately the reality of how close I was to all this hit me when my friend who I was climbing with messaged me that his parents live in Paris and we would need to delay our departure until he made sure they were OK.

His parents. His family, and friends. I could imagine, then, how many people I see every day with friends, family, and loved ones that could be one of those countless victims. . .countless. There, of course, are numbers. But can you really count the victims of an attack like this?

My message to the world, that morning, was this:

"Friends, family, I am safe and sound here in Grenoble. Many of you have contacted me. . . .thank you, that means a lot. My thoughts go out to the people of France, Paris, and around the world. I have many friends with family and loved ones in and close to Paris. To you, I hope everything is ok for those you care about. The world must stand united. . . .we must live in inclusion, and we must love others. . . .how can this happen?"

My friend, a friend of his, and me then left for Presles. On the way there we listened to the news. And spoke little of the events, choosing to have a normal day. It was a great day.

The following day I was offered some perspective by a French friend on the experience. I asked her what her and her friends' response was to the event, and what it meant to them. This conversation is really one of the only glimpses, first hand, I had into how the people felt. They felt sad. They felt angry. Some wanted revenge, some wanted peace. People were touched to reach out to one another, and family and friends mourned and cared for one another. The French trinity of Freedom, Equality, and Brotherhood was strong, indeed.

This was made even more clear to me as I stood Monday, at noon, with hundreds of my fellow students on our campus in silence. France and many other other places observed a minute of silence in honor and respect of those lost. It was a beautiful moment and I could feel the power of love and care in the air. I felt like I was a part of what was happening, like I was there to help show how much this meant to me, and that this will not go unforgotten. That we, as a student body, a nation, an international community, will stand together. I won't forget that feeling.

I appreciated the empathy and support from the Western world that was shown to Paris. I believe this event, for a time, brought pieces of a divided world together. I do not, however, believe it united the world. If anything, this event and the response to it exemplify one of the fundamental causes: the split between the Western, civilized world, and the developing world.

This event opened my eyes to a new concept: We, the people, are comfortable with the idea that, in some places, violence just happens. In parts of the non-Western world of Africa and the Middle East (and many, many other places!), violence, rape, sickness, hunger, homelessness, tyranny, and evil thrives. This is happening. Every day. But isn't this normal? Doesn't this just happen there? It's always been like that, so it must be normal when hundreds, thousands of people are suffering and dying. But then the table turns. . .

Here we are, again, same time, different place: Paris, France. The "civilized world." And something terrible happens. . .something absolutely terrible. But, in the eyes of a man who sees a life as a life, this wasn't worse than what happened just days, hours before in Lebanon. Days, hours before all around the world. This is just something I actually KNEW about! I was ignorant. I was blind. And I wasn't alone. I might not have ever heard about any of the terrible events that happened before and after Paris all arond the world. And perhaps, if I had, I would have had the same reaction. . .But I doubt it: I thought that violence just happens some places, y'know, what's a guy to do?

We, the people, have become numb to the violence around us. This idea of violence just happening is similar to a situation we have in the states with gun violence. This is something that struck me after the attacks, as well. "Oh, a school shooting? Terrible, where was it this time?" This time? And the last time? And the last? And the next? When does it stop? And when do we realize that this shouldn't just happen? This doesn't happen other places, in the civilized world. But this does happen in the non-Western world? And that's where I just can't seem to quite put my finger on it. . .why does this go unnoticed and without action around the world, even in our own country?

I don't know. It just happens, I guess.

My conclusion? Open your eyes and mind to the way things can be. Things are good in the world. But some things aren't good. Open your eyes to them. See them. Feel them. Understand them. Know that one of the most important things to remember in the wake of an event like this is that these types of acts cannot, fundamentally, be representative of the ideals of any religion. These actions do not and cannot represent the Islamic faith. And furthermore, to present the actions of a few as representative of the ideals of the many is unfair in any case and should always be met with scepticism. We cannot let fear, hate, and anger fuel us as an international community. We must be strong, and we must do what we need to do. I don't know what that is. I fear what that might be, but I can only hope for the best.

I hope for the best. Spread love. Spread community. Stand together. Share your faith with peace, or don't share it at all. For me. . .well. . .I just hope those who suffer in the world can find a sanctuary. . .nobody should live in fear.

Go climb a rock, people.
Hy