Lockdown

      The whole world knows the events that began April 15^th 2013, from California to Syria, Boston has received the hope and support of millions for peace and justice. And with such global interest in this little town, the internet is ripe with accounts of people's experiences from the bombings to the Friday Lockdown. This story is no different other than the fact that is mine. The bombings happened, and everyone took to the internet, clicking refresh rapidly. What usually detaches us from the emotion of people's expression, was full of prayers, pictures, and as is the tragic norm angry cries many of which were racist. These behaviors, for better or worse continued all week. I haven't always been the most emotionally expressive, but this shook me. Sure, I am from a suburb but Boston is my home. I am a Patriot and home is one of my biggest ideals and things I believe in. I wanted justice, swift and blind. No wars, no bombings, no death, no glory. Reality brings complexity that will slow down this process, but now that the media has done it's job and then some with wild accusations harming innocent people's reputation (Shame on you, New York Post), I don't want Tsarnaev's trial to be widely broadcast until a verdict is given.

      I was hoping things would die down as the legal and police forces handled the investigation. Then Thursday night came, I had heard there was a shooting nearby at MIT, but was hungry and wanted to be out enjoying the nice weather so I went with a friend to get some late night cookies at Insomnia Bakery. This is when I was hit the hardest, we heard snippets of conversations from the people we passed with the latest details but the night sky was burning with sirens, surrounding us. And when you are trained your whole life to believe that these noises mean dangr and get out of the way, when they circle around you like buzzards, it gets to you. My cookie was still good but we got back to our dorms with shaky legs and watering eyes. My bedtime story that night was updates from the streaming police scanner I found online. A week went by and I still had to fall asleep in a city of fear.

     Friday was the lockdown. Our school was closed, no one could leave and food was brought to one of the dorms to feed everyone so we didn't have to head to the dining hall. Buzzfeed and photo sites were loaded with pictures of empty Boston streets. They displayed a serenity I did not want to know. TVs stayed on, and students gathered around. It was stifling and uncomfortable, the air felt more recycled than the 'updates' the networks were providing us. Our spirits were strained with nothing to do. More shots were fired, and I was just waiting for more bad news. But then, he was caught. Justice had finally been done, and he was rushed to the hospital. And this was only the beginning of my happiness.

     The work of all the people, and not just the exemplary Boston Police Department, that kept my people safe was astonishing. After the Thursday night firefight, the BPD did not fire a single shot, and the final shots were from a scared 19 year, bleeding out under a tarp. I feel for this kid, I do. But I still want him to sit forgotten in a jail. But even more impressive, was in a historical fashion, an entire damn city shut down. To reiterate our latest motto 'You messed with the wrong city' because Boston has been training for emergencies like this and has been drilled twice in the last few years with 11 million dollars invested in responding to threats like this. We are one of the most prepared cities to handle this, and handle it we did. Respect to all police officers, mbta employees and even Dunkin Donuts employees who worked in our temporary ghost-town, to keep our Boston safe and running. We wish no ill will towards Chechnya or the muslims, save our few more ignorant people. But it was their equivalent hate-filled lost souls that did this to us. We are not perfect, but we are Boston Strong.