Despite all the issues I have with Boston University, I’m glad that I decided to go here as opposed to George Washington University. Lately, Washington, D.C. seems like a home for chaos. As I write this, a sniper has killed six people and injured two in and around D.C. His most recent victim was a student walking into his school. And while my immediate surroundings seem safe, I feel like I can never really be sure.
I grew up on Long Island, close to a small airport, and when I was younger my friends and I used to play a game as we watched the planes fly in, trying to name as many colors as possible. Now I look up suspiciously at planes, not to examine their color. I feel like the world was a safer place when I was younger, and I didn’t worry about anything.
Was it really safer, or does childhood cloud everything that isn’t easy or fun? Even in high school, I did not worry about my safety. There were even a few bomb threats called in over my high school years, but students were more annoyed that they would not have enough time to finish their history test than they were scared for their safety.
I recently visited my sister’s high school, which is in the same district as my own, and things are completely different. There are cameras everywhere, and guests are not allowed to enter the building without proper ID and a visitor’s pass.
I’d like to think that these precautions are simply measures to assure anxious parents that students are safe. But what was once considered safe is now deemed completely inadequate. While perhaps some of the former policies implemented in public places like high schools were a bit on the relaxed side, it was only because safety was not the issue it is today.
Throughout my childhood I felt completely safe. I can remember writing letters to soldiers in the Persian Gulf War and understanding that people were dying and that horrible things were happening all over the world. But I also understood they weren’t happening here. Whether it was the protection of adults or the innocent apathy of childhood, I grew up believing that bad things happened, but not in America and certainly not to me. And so did everyone else that I know.
Was the world really a safer place a short eight or 10 years ago? It really seems like it was. I can remember when I was younger and my parents would tell stories about their childhood. They always seemed so much freer they were allowed to do so much more. My sister and I used to ask why we weren’t allowed to do those things, too. We wanted to ride our bikes to the beach or walk to the mall, but my mother would say that we would have to wait until we were older; it wasn’t safe for us.
So the world gets progressively more dangerous with each passing year. Even here in Boston, I find myself worrying about the kids I see who seem too young to riding the T alone. My mind starts to race, and I start to worry what if there is some sicko waiting to grab them when they get off the train?
And then I worry for myself. Is this the kind of world I want to bring a new life into? The other night in one of those late- night college talks with my roommate, we started talking about this, and there is no clear answer. The next child born could be the one who will save the world or it could be the one who ends it all.
It feels like I can spend as many nights as I want talking this subject to death and there are never any answers. Is this a problem that can even be fixed? Is there some way to reverse all that has happened? Can we ever find that place where there were no snipers, no bomb threats, no sickos snatching up children? Or have we moved on past that, and all that we have now is a trade-off that we have to come to terms with? And what can we do to possibly make it a little easier for everyone to sleep at night?
There are no answers. Sometimes people say, ‘The best you can do is keep pushing forward.’ But pushing forward seems to be what got us here in the first place. And we all know that you just can’t go back. Standing still doesn’t help either. So there is no choice but to move onward.
Tomorrow, hopefully, things will be better, easier, safer. Unfortunately, tomorrow will most likely be just like today.