12 people died, 11 wounded, 4 seriously injured. “Did you hear about the terrorist attack in France?” “Did you hear about the explosion?” Precise or not, tidbits of information have been flying, and talk of the town is the shooting that happened at Charlie Hebdo in Paris yesterday.
Headlines and graphics read “The French September 11” and articles discuss the horrible act of violence that occurred in Paris, reflecting heavily on how unexpected this terroristic act was. France grieves. The French have taken to the streets, and with them, so have others in cities like London and Berlin. There has been so much coverage, even in American news, about the protests and the rallies taking place in France and other countries alike surrounding the gunmen who attacked political caricaturists, and with them their freedoms of speech and expression.
Paris has been at attention since before this event, on high alert since the early security warnings after bomb threats to the metro system. Many a time, I rode to and from school on a packed metro alongside officers covered head to toe in camouflage, toting army-grade rifles, the tips of which I found myself inching as far away from as possible, as the somber guards looked around, as though preparing for action. There have been a nights I sat frozen on the metro surrounded by these heavily armed men and women, wondering what could possibly merit so many members of the French army to step into my train car, as they openly observed the passengers.
Despite the threats and the military personnel spreading themselves throughout the streets and public transit, the mass amount of shock and grieving as a result of yesterday’s shooting is primarily due to the fact that this act of violence is the first of its kind in France in years. After living in Paris for 5 months this past fall, I found myself equally rattled by the event. The shooting took place not far from where I lived. As I watched the videos taken by witnesses, who watched from rooftops and balconies next to the Charlie Hebdo offices, I felt the horror of the onlookers. Cameras shook in trembling hands and worried voices told friends to move so as not to be seen by the shooters; fear is tangible.
Almost instantaneously, social media exploded with reports of the attack. The hashtag #JeSuisCharlie (I am Charlie) emerged, and people stood up in defense of the freedoms of speech and expression.
Coming from Texas, one of the most heavily supportive states of the right to bear arms, I have heard many sides of arguments for and against guns (and the control of these weapons). “Self-defense,” people cry, yet, in the past few years, exceeding amounts of shootings have occurred across the United States. In public spaces, like schools and an infamous movie theater, innocent lives have been lost to the crosshairs of a viewfinder. Media reports tell of gunmen who snapped, and innocent lives that were taken in the process. As horrific and terrible as these acts are, they have become almost common place.
We, as Americans, and those abroad alike, now hear of these violent shootings and sadly shake our heads, saying, “Not another one…”
Somehow, though, this one is different. In a generally less violent country, a shooting causes an uproar, and is then compared to such terrorist events as 9/11, in which a city was ravaged, trust and the feeling of safety grew weak, and mass hysteria broke out across the nation. Is the present outrage and backlash a result of the motive? Are people upset because political cartoonists and their freedom to satirize religion were targeted by gunmen defending Islam? Or are we upset at the loss of lives that shouldn’t have been taken?
I genuinely can’t answer these questions without over-generalizing or misspeaking. However, what I would like to call to attention is the apathy with which other shootings of this magnitude have been treated. Every day, we see images of violence, hear of despicable crimes against humanity, and, for some, hearing of 12 people dying in a day has become a terrible, commonplace reality. Though these events don’t go entirely unnoticed, there is not an equivalent amount of protest and support for the victims of these horrors. No matter what is written, drawn, or published, how can we possibly merit the taking of an innocent human life? Nobody should be subjected to the crosshairs of an assault rifle for their opinion.
In this world of instant gratification of needs and technology, the eloquence and art of speech, discussion, and debate is being lost to the immediate results of violence. This is not acceptable. I bring to light to amount of attention given to this particular shooting in Paris not to discount its legitimacy, but to beg and plead that more attention is given to other events of this kind. It is horrific. It is not acceptable. And we will not tolerate it. But if so many feel this way about a singular event, who is responsible for the grievance of all the others?
The Transition Artist 