A Love Letter to Paris:
I was 15 when I met my friend Anna, a Paris native who attended the same Brown University summer class as me. I was amazed by Anna’s culture, her kindness, and her confidence. I vowed then, at 15, that I would visit Paris as soon as I had the chance. That chance did not come until I was 19 years old and my best friend and I planned a trip to France over the summer. Paris was even more incredible than I had expected—glittering lights and beautiful landmarks, yes, but also a vibrant culture and a general zeitgeist that overflowed my heart with joy. As I stood on my friend Anna’s balcony sipping wine and laughing, I knew I would come back many times.
It was only a few months later when my mother called and asked me to check on Anna right away. I was dressing up for a formal at the time. “What do you mean?” I asked, breathless.
“There’s been a terrorist attack.”
I turned on the television and felt my chest constrict.
Anna and another friend who happened to be traveling in Paris were both all right, albeit traumatized by what had occurred. All of us felt shattered by the horrifying events that had unfolded. My entire body felt heavy with grief as I realized that the city I so loved was under siege. I asked Anna if she felt like I did on the morning when I was six years old and sitting at my desk in first grade, coloring in my daily journal. I looked up to find my teacher with her hand to her mouth and tears streaming down her face. She rushed to the television and flicked it on. Towers burning, a city in flames.
“That’s exactly what it feels like,” she told me.
Ever since the attack on Paris, many have written about how the world’s grief about what is happening in France is somewhat misplaced. Similar attacks have occurred in Beruit and Pakistan, they state—why is the horror about those occurrences not so widespread?
I disagree with the line of reasoning that states a person who grieves for Paris cannot also be saddened by the events in other parts of the world. I am also skeptical of anyone who claims not to understand the United State’s special sadness about attacks in a city home to our oldest allies, the ones who allowed us to gain our freedom during the Revolutionary War and who fought alongside us in World War II.
I am devastated by the violence that occurs in all parts of the world. As an American, though, it strikes a special chord with me to see a country that so deeply values their commitment to free speech and liberty fall prey to another vicious attack. It was a French newspaper that published an editorial called "We Are All Americans" in solidarity with us following 9/11; the whole country also established a day of mourning. The French have always shown solidarity with us and acted as a close and loyal friend. That is why so many Americans are standing up to show our love for the country. That is why the President addressed what happened in France immediately and with great heartbreak. It was not because he cared about deaths in other parts of the world any less, but because the French and the Americans have stood together through centuries of heartbreak and tragedy. It should not be one’s first instinct to condemn those who are saddened by a tragedy, but instead to understand that we, as humans, are all attempting to deal with the complexity of the world in individual ways.
So let us all mourn what has happened in Paris. Let us recognize that the values of peace and liberty will always triumph over hatred. Let us not use this as an opportunity to create even more division and anger—instead let us use this as a chance to stand together and fight for the ideals that so many of us value more than even life itself.
