Diaries Magazine


By Pearlmacek

It has been a strange couple of days here in New York– It is a strange mix of fear that something like this should happen mixed with astonishment that Boston should be targeted instead of NYC. The reactions that I have heard albeit sometime involuntarily, have been honest, and most importantly, fair–Americans don’t automatically jump to the conclusion that it was a foreign terrorist attack–after all that has happened in the US, in the past year even, seems to have made the population somewhat less blindly nationalistic.

Having said that, some crazy chased a man in his truck last night after the victim exited a mosque after prayers. He called him a terrorist amongst other things and waved a gun around. Shame. Unfortunately, this blatant ignorance will not go away anytime soon, especially if this does turn out to be a foreign act of violence.

Yesterday, after having to listen to one of my coworkers say “oh it’s those damn Japanese, they have been trying to start a war with us for weeks!” (it took me a good 10 seconds before I came down to her level and realized she had confused Japanese with North Koreans which, if I may go out on a limb here, I’m sure she doesn’t even realize there is a difference between North and South Korea either despite the media coverage North Korea has been receiving of late), I got out of work and high tailed it for the ferry to head back home to Brooklyn. One could feel the suspicion in the air. Of course, I did not help the situation by having my big rucksack with me which looks like the perfect bomb holder. Everyone was looking at everyone else as if they were a suspect; me more so because of my rucksack and what I like to call (and a few others around me might say), my swarthy skin tone. Also, I have this embarrassing attribute that when I am in a suspect situation, I act like the biggest suspect which did not help me out at all. Needless to say, all bags, but especially mine, were searched on the ferry for questionable substances.

I was so happy to get home. I called my Mom (of course, that is what one does in such a situation) and let her know I was home safe and that if I do someday become a topnotch journalist who does get deployed to war zones, I will either buy her a lifetime supply of Valium or take her along with me as my editor/spiritual advisor.

It was a horrible event that sent shock waves throughout the world. It was exceptionally worse due to that fact that it was a family and community event that was targeted. Absolute cowardice is what is was. My heart continues to break for those who were injured or killed and of course, for their families.

There are many great things about the United States of America–many bad things as well–but the best thing about this country is its collective spirit when it decides to come together– It stretches way beyond class, culture, sexual orientation and in the face of tragedy, the nation ultimately becomes one.

It is moments like those when I am proud to be an American citizen.

My heart is with you Boston.

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