no longer home

I went to an all women's college. This is important.

I experienced my first year, poli-sci 101, "holy shit, it's all a lie!" political awakening in the wake of 9/11. I do not intend to downplay the significance of that event by using it as a backdrop for my own, nascent sort-of-radicalness, but this is important, too.

And for me, it was backdrop. I wasn't directly affected. I understood the pain and horror of that event the only way one so far removed can - through a lens, through a filter, through as much empathy as one can stand before bleeding from the ears. My awareness was nothing but a faint echo, a shadow, a vague unease.

Campus was quiet. People were slow and sad and lonely and worried and scared. And when the quiet faded, and the rage kicked in, I watched classmates and discussion partners and news outlets turn rabid. My first tears were not for the victims of the attack, but for a hallmate who suggested, on multiple occaisions, that we should "bomb them all" - referring to whom, exactly, I'm not sure - she was just referring to that other, that them.