The information age is at once helpful and problematic. I heard of the Paris attack as it was occurring, but not in the way one might expect. I knew something was happening in Paris when my friend, who studies in Paris, was pinned as safe on my Facebook. I thought, if it's necessary for her to be pinned as safe, something must be happening, and then I Googled it. As I read the news article, I had a moment of deep emotion. I was full of gratitude that my friend was indeed safe and full of an understanding of what it must be like for those whose friends were not “pinned as safe.” I felt the depth of what had just occurred.
The moment lasted but not long enough. The day after, my ability to relate to pain and feel a deep connection to those mourning in Paris was undermined by the very same system that informed me of the pain. That is to say, the information age kept spinning beyond my moment. Depth was replaced with breadth, and I became lost.
What initially was paired with a relationship and emotion became attached to politics, economics, and social movements. Every profile picture became covered with the flag of France, and every status became a thesis concerning a different subject. One friend mentioned the Euro-centric coverage of terror and what an injustice it was. Another discussed how we must not let this tragedy justify turning a blind eye to the plight of the Syrian refugee. Still another friend shared a touching video in which a Muslim man stood blindfolded with open arms, asking those who trusted him to embrace him. I found myself torn, for I passionately delight in such movements of human compassion and dignity, but these movements left no room for Paris. They left no room for mourning.
Acts of terror, by necessity, affect people deeply and widely. Those who know people who died or who came near to death feel the depth. The breadth of the moment is carried on by the intellectualization of the attacks. The attacks become platforms for messages. The information age does not pause to feel, mourn, or appreciate depth; rather, it immediately begins to think and analyze. To analyze is not inherently a bad thing to do, for acts of terror have many effects that must be expounded upon and debated in order to be understood. I only propose this: before we grasp for understanding of the breadth of a situation, we should take the time to understand the depth and to mourn.
Indeed, when I began to write this article, I intended to discuss how the Paris attacks inform what should be done concerning the refugee crisis. I hit a wall when I realized that I was replacing feeling with intellect and, more importantly, that I had been doing just that for the past week. Both have their place, but for now, I choose to feel for Paris and for its people. Those in mourning have no use for our grandiose suppositions about how this attack affects the world at large. So, I will mourn, and after I have mourned, then I will permit myself to think.
