Boston Strong

I was neither born, nor raised in Boston. But I love Boston. It has now been two weeks since the horrendous bombings; yet, in light of these recent of events I am proud to call Boston my new home. If I learned anything from the horrific experience, I have learned of Boston’s inspirational love.

My heart goes out to the three unfortunate souls that were lost as a result of the bombings, and to the countless people who were injured. As well as the brave police officer who unfortunately lost his life in this whole ordeal. I do not know them, but I love them.
I love the selfless first responders on the scene: the paramedics who treated injuries within moments of the life changing, terrifying explosions. I love the dedicated police officers who worked tirelessly all week to find, and capture, those responsible for the tragedy.
I love the friends that I shared such unfortunate circumstances with, who all came together to celebrate life when death and tragedy was all around us.
Above all, I love the masses of people that gathered in the streets to rejoice when our shared troubles were finally over. Hundreds of people stood together, decorated in American flag apparel, proud to be together in Boston. International and American students alike stood together to sing the national anthem (or, in my case, mouth the words I did not know) and cheer on the police officers that passed us by. Everyone chanted in unison: “BPD! BPD!” College kids have never been so happy to see the Boston Police Department.
Most of all, I love that amidst all the pride and celebration I did not hear a single word of slander. Nobody yelled insults against Russia, nobody offered hatred or negativity at all. In fact, most were celebrating that they caught the final suspect alive. All that I witnessed was American pride, Bostonian strength, and human love.

Despite the terrifying and tragic circumstances that I, and, everyone else in the city, had to endure for that week, I would not want to live anywhere else right now.
Amidst all this celebration, we must mourn the five lives that were lost. A child, and two women killed as a result of the bombs; a brave police officer; and, yes, “suspect number one”, because he was just as human as the other four victims. May the families of everyone involved finally find some peace.

So, let us not focus on the negative aspects of these events. Speaking as an international student myself, it is a real tragedy that the two suspects were immigrants. But, do not discriminate. Just because they practiced a different religion does not mean they did this because “their God told them to”. Just because they are from a different country does not mean they did this because “all Russians hate America”. Most likely they were both very disturbed young men, and for whatever reasons they did these horrible things we can take comfort in knowing that they did not succeed in their mission of hate. The love of Boston was too strong.

I am Boston strong. I am Boston proud!
“They picked the wrong city to mess with.”

For Leah.

This weekend I celebrated my twentieth birthday. This weekend I found out that my little cousin would no longer celebrate any birthdays.

It doesn't seem right. It doesn't seem right that after I got the phone call that morning I went about my day as usual. I took a shower; I went to class; I walked in a fashion show, even- but none of it felt right. The world shouldn't just keep spinning on its axis, life shouldn't just keep going. Not when someone just lost theirs.
Leah, my little Leah, my sweet cousin Leah, was 3 years old when she was diagnosed with cancer. The doctors told us she didn't have much hope. They told us she didn't have much time: a year at best, they said. She survived her fifth birthday, and her fifth Christmas. That's what my Leah did, she survived. When she was too weak to walk, she crawled, and when she lost the ability to speak, she still remembered to smile.

The last time I saw Leah we were at the beach. It started to rain and everyone, including me, ran for cover. But, not Leah. She ran away from her mum, who was hiding from the rain with the rest of us, and went out and danced in the downpour. I swear the sun came back out just for her.

On Friday morning, my mum called to tell me that little Leah had passed away, and nothing has felt right since then. The world should know. Everyone should know that the world lost a beautiful soul that morning. Everyone should stop and mourn.
My little Leah inspired me every day. Though I haven't seen her since that day on the beach she has, and always will, inspire me to dance in the sun in spite of the rain. For the last year and a half every wish I made was for her recovery. All I wish now is that she is in a better place, that her suffering is over, and that she can keep dancing in the rain.

I will always love you, Leah.
Rest in Peace.