Collegiate Times

As we approach the first anniversary of April 16 we can expect to see our campus swamped with visitors, some welcome, others less so.

The media frenzy will be an unfortunate distraction, although we can hope that it will open the eyes of our nation to the pain of that awful day. It is hard to come up with something other than the usual platitudes, but we need to if this day is to mean anything to us.

The raw pain of that day is hard to forget. The day is not an easy one to remember and those are not easy memories to confront. The confusion, the fear, and the deep sickness that hit so many of us are not likely to pass easily. Nor should they, as much as we may want them to. But as this day approaches, we can turn that pain and loss toward something constructive.

Maybe for one day, though we may be tempted otherwise, we can sidestep all the agendas, conflicts, and petty differences that tear us apart and focus on the overwhelming commonalities that draw us together, as a campus community and ultimately as a human one, too. This is not to suggest how people ought to spend this day, which is for each alone to decide. And if April 16, 2008, is a day devoted to the memory and honor of our brothers and sisters, a celebration of the people they were and the lives they led, then we may count it as a day well spent. If it is a day that draws us closer to those we love, to whatever it is that brings joy and meaning to our lives, then it will have been an honorable remembrance.

Let us carry with us the lives of those that were taken, because we can continue the work they began. If we do not carry them with us then we will be unlikely to grow. This world is full of suffering, most of which we never see and much of which we are left entirely unaware. But we are not unaware, not on this day.

We can sympathize with the plight of those in the war zones of the world, however weakly, in a manner that those who have been more fortunate cannot. We, in a glimpse of terror, can understand how terribly real and awful the violence that plagues so much of this globe is - how senseless the destruction that so many humans face can be. With our shared suffering comes understanding, however painful it may be.

As Nikki Giovanni so powerfully put it, "We know we did not deserve it, but neither does a child in Africa dying of AIDS, neither do the invisible children walking the night to avoid being captured by a rogue army ... no one deserves a tragedy." Although nearly a year has passed, the day remains so raw, so incomprehensible, and so awful to so many of us. We try to make sense of it and fail, but we fear to try again, for it is all too upsetting. What can we do?

With the national spotlight returning its gaze to our campus, we will once again, however briefly, be the talk of the country. I'm not sure how that ought to make us feel, but I take comfort in the words of a column that was printed in the Collegiate Times on April 17. We cannot change what happened on April 16, but we can serve "the entire Blacksburg community to create a university and town where everyone feels safe, appreciated and valued as a human being."

Maybe that is all we can do.  Yes, there are appropriate debates concerning campus safety, emergency procedures, concealed carry on campus, gun control and other related issues. But more broadly we can work, as individuals and as a community, to create a society in which people are not bullied, mistreated, discriminated against or abused. A community that encourages and values diversity in opinions and the importance of dialogue over conflict, a community that embraces the aspects that make us unique, and a community that does not discriminate on the basis of gender, race, sexual orientation, nationality, religion, language skills, personal wealth, or other social factors. That is the Hokie nation at its best, and something to strive for each day we are here.