As you all know, I’m originally from Massachusetts. Though at this point, I’ve lived away so long, that I’ve spent almost as much time out of the state as I did in it, growing up. I’m proud to be from Massachusetts.
In the aftermath of yesterday, I find myself reeling a little. I wasn’t personally at the marathon, though I have friends who were. I gave a huge sigh of relief when I found out they had left before the bombs went off.
Bipolar disorder already makes my grip on my mood a little tenuous, but the events yesterday made it even more so. I’ve cried a few times and laughed inappropriately and I feel bewildered at the kind of evil it takes to hurt people.
Like Mr. Rogers’ mother, I have spent a lot of time focusing on the helpers. I did it at first for my kids, to show them that for every one evil person in this world, there are hundreds or thousands of good people. They don’t need to be scared of the world. After saying it aloud a few times though, I started noticing the helpers myself. Have you watched the footage of the explosions? They’re everywhere. The Guardian has some good footage. Notice how just after people instinctively move back from the explosion, people of all kinds start heading for the flags to help. The footage afterward shows all kinds of people helping the injured get medical help. Then today, some of my friends, and dozens of others, donated blood.
After the initial shock and wondering how someone can do things like this and wondering if the world is getting worse or if it just seems like it, I feel a great sense of pride and not just from my New England heritage: I’m proud to be human. Some very sick humans cause emergencies, but most humans help each other through the emergencies. I’m proud to belong to this species that helps.