When I was initially penning this piece, I was going to focus on the terrorist attacks in Paris, how they relate to other attacks covered less by the media, and what we can take away from such tragedy. While that isn’t my focus in this piece anymore, the message is the same. When times get tough we stick together, but as time rolls on we forget about the big picture, why we came together in the first place.
A few hours before Stevens notified the entire campus that two students — sophomore Ian Rahimi and senior Bryan Fitzpatrick — had died, I was already aware of one of the student’s deaths. When Stevens finally sent its official email though, titled “Sad News,” the prospect of two fellow students having died hit me. I felt gutted. While I knew neither of these students personally, I have definitely seen them both out and about on campus or in Pierce Dining Hall. Two familiar faces to me — best friends, fellow club members, and classmates to others — were gone.
I’ve seen communities temporarily unite before under the banner of student deaths. For example, in high school, a senior died in a freak accident during a swim meet, and in middle school, a friend of mine died from bone cancer in what would have been her eighth grade graduation year. Of course, friends and family will always remain united when a loved one dies, but what about everyone else?
Two Stevens students died. When you abstract from any individual relationships with these two students, you will see that we are connected by more than our majors or organizations. At the most we are Stevens students, whether we are celebrating sports victories or complaining about academic infrastructure. At the least we are all human beings, a sentiment echoed by many people and publications with the Paris-Beirut news coverage disparity this past week. Regardless of anything, we are automatically united by one (or both) of these distinctions — we really are one.
Many of us have certainly learned thus far that life is ephemeral. With all that we do on a daily basis — our academics, extracurriculars, and career searching — even if we reach 80 years of age, life just isn’t long enough. After deaths of loved ones or international terrorist attacks, we call our families and friends to express how much we care about them; we take stock of our lives and the choices we’ve made; we reflect on our positions in this world, and even this universe. Tragedy is often a catalyst for reevaluation. During that period of reassessment we see what actually matters. Then, time passes and we forget.
As we try to move on after the loss of those we love, especially after the deaths of two fellow students, we cannot forget about what brought us together at all: their lives. More than death, life is what brings us together; death is just the impetus that did so. We will always have memories of those who have left us, no matter what. What we need to hold onto is the feeling of unity that forms during tragic times, the extensive impact of our words and actions, and the insignificance of events that make us angry, cloud our judgment, and consume our ability to live. Don’t live in fear, tethered to the thought of death. Instead, hold onto what was important to you during the most difficult times, even when everything is going well.
