Sleep will not come, and so this night is for words - words of anger, confusion and profound sadness. I regret not writing anything after 4/16/07 because these feelings have had a hold on my heart since that cursed day. I know these words will do nothing to ease the anguish of a widow as she explains to her five children that their father was murdered. I also know that they won't bring back anyone from any act of senseless violence or prevent such acts from happening in the future. If anything I am about to say offends or annoys anyone, please remember that I am not asking you to validate my opinion.
I did not have the best college experience. Virginia Tech is a large, crowded campus, full of noise and activity; the latter is not always of the honorable sort. Although I made a few good friends, volunteered regularly and succeeded academically, I often felt lonely and out of place. I was battling anorexia the semester before and in medias res the turmoil of the April 16th shooting. Something strange happened inside me after the massacre. Beneath my shock and sadness over the lives lost, I felt a kind of pity for the gunman. He was an extreme outsider who it seems had no friends. I realized, maybe for the first time, that I had friends (maybe not as many as I wanted), people who cared about me. Did anyone care about Cho? This feeling haunted and continues to haunt me; I am repulsed by my own consideration for someone who could commit such a heinous crime. A new friend recently asked me if I had forgiven the shooter, and I told him that my forgiveness was predicated on God's forgiveness; since I believe that God forgives all, I choose to side with Him. But if I am really honest with myself, I cannot forgive him. I can only pity him.
The numbness of the days after April 16th soon gave way to righteous anger. In addition to being angry on behalf of the families of those killed, I was angry at President Steger, Virginia Tech officials, Cho's parents and myself. I was distinctly angry about the jeopardizing of higher (indeed, all) education. I wrote a very short journal entry on one of those days, and in it I expressed an odd emotion; I told Cho that he not only stole the futures of 32 people, but also my (and presumably others') willingness to express passion. It is clear that he relished this experience, that this was a crime of passion. He felt so strongly that he was justified that he made it no longer acceptable to be passionate about anything. I didn't write and post anything because it struck me somehow as a conspiratorial act. Eating, talking and laughing also seemed treacherous and unfair. Needless to say, my faith also suffered a substantial blow during this time.
I am in a much better place now than I was when I was at VT, both before and after the shooting, but I will always love and be grateful for my alma mater. It houses a superb English department with superb faculty, and I grew in ways I wouldn't have if I had attended a smaller college. It is hard for me to reconcile my feelings when events such as today's shooting and the beheading at ABP create a media frenzy. All at once, I am resentful that VT is perceived as a crime-ridden institution, glad that people are paying attention and sad that other senseless acts and tragic deaths are placed on the back burner. I hate that I feel entitled to express more sorrow than people who did not go to Tech and that I relish the sense of community that I never felt while attending school there. I hate that I am worried about what to buy for Christmas when some people just want their loved ones back. My stomach and heart ache for the family of Officer Crouse, for Lauren McCain's family, for Jamie Bishop's sweet wife (both of them excellent German professors), and for the families and friends of the other victims. I hate that anyone has to lose anyone.
The hate is out now. There is just no place for it in my heart or life anymore. I will hold on to the anger and the sadness because those are the things that keep me from forgetting, but they will not rule me. Every day I think about April 16th, and now I will think about December 8th as well. You may remember other days, and they may be worse or far better than the ones I remember. That is OK. The important thing is that we remember something and modify our actions for the better to reflect the power of that remembrance. We are responsible for shaping the future denied the slain. As Dumbledore said, we should pray for the living rather than for the dead. May they rest in peace.
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