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PAGE 4<br />
MONDAY,<br />
OPINION<br />
Shannon Sweeney Caitlin Wolper Sara B. Cudemo<br />
Editor in Chief Opinion Page Editor Business Manager<br />
NOV. 16, 2015<br />
Terrorist attacks in Paris no more<br />
or less important than others<br />
All you have to do<br />
is hit “Try it,” and<br />
your profile<br />
picture is covered by the<br />
French flag.<br />
That was <strong>Facebook</strong>’s<br />
response to the terrorist<br />
attacks in Paris this past<br />
weekend. There was no<br />
shortage of statuses<br />
declaring support either.<br />
And then rose the<br />
opposition, citing attacks in<br />
Beirut and Baghdad,<br />
disasters in Japan and<br />
Brazil.<br />
The question was: what<br />
should we care about<br />
more?<br />
Should we be angry<br />
there isn’t a Lebanese or<br />
Japanese flag to impose<br />
over our profile photo?<br />
There is no hierarchy of<br />
importance when it comes<br />
to a variety of places that<br />
have been attacked by<br />
terrorists.<br />
If anything, the media is<br />
more likely to cover an<br />
attack in a location like<br />
Paris where there are<br />
OUR VIEW<br />
We can’t rank the importance of natural<br />
and human disasters’ media coverage<br />
against one another.<br />
likely several news outlets<br />
stationed as opposed to in<br />
Lebanon.<br />
We must remember that<br />
tragedies are just that:<br />
tragedies. We can’t ascribe<br />
more importance to one<br />
than another.<br />
It’s important to be<br />
actively seeking out world<br />
news. Even when events<br />
get less coverage, it doesn’t<br />
mean people shouldn’t<br />
know about them. It’s not<br />
difficult to follow another<br />
country’s news source on<br />
Twitter.<br />
That’s not to say that<br />
news sources shouldn’t be<br />
covering every event, but<br />
as citizens, we do have a<br />
responsibility to seek out<br />
news even if it’s not<br />
immediately visible.<br />
It makes sense that<br />
France has a lot of media<br />
coverage. France, one of<br />
our closest allies, was<br />
supportive after 9/11, so<br />
the United States is acting<br />
in reciprocal support.<br />
After all, reciprocal<br />
support is important.<br />
Changing your profile<br />
picture to support France<br />
is a nice gesture.<br />
It doesn’t belittle Beirut<br />
or Japan or Brazil to<br />
support France.<br />
Don’t get mad about one<br />
issue being covered more<br />
than another.<br />
Just stay as informed as<br />
you can, and keep in mind<br />
that no matter how you<br />
react, terrorism is a<br />
worldwide problem that<br />
clearly isn’t getting better.<br />
Branden Camp/Associated Press<br />
Cynthia Fleck holds a drawing of the Eiffel Tower as a peace symbol during<br />
a rally in Atlanta on Sunday, Nov. 15.<br />
Paris<br />
FROM Page 1.<br />
Library at 8:45 p.m. to study.<br />
Adjacent to the library was<br />
the National Museum of Modern<br />
Art, where she and her family<br />
had cheerily mocked<br />
postmodern art during a<br />
vacation six years prior (a<br />
painting that consisted of<br />
nothing more than a solid blue<br />
canvas was a particular source<br />
of amusement).<br />
The library closed at 10 p.m.<br />
She moved to a Starbucks to<br />
continue studying. The streets<br />
were thronged with young<br />
Parisians making their way<br />
through the city: just another<br />
Friday night.<br />
When the Starbucks closed,<br />
she walked to Gare Saint-Lazare<br />
station to study some more.<br />
She checked her <strong>Facebook</strong><br />
feed. Someone had posted about<br />
an ongoing terrorist attack. She<br />
read more: three confirmed<br />
attacks, explosions outside a<br />
soccer stadium, a death toll that<br />
kept climbing. Sirens wailing.<br />
Streets awash in red and blue<br />
lights. Hostages held at<br />
Bataclan theater, less than two<br />
kilometers from the library<br />
where she had studied.<br />
She decided to go home.<br />
The 11:40 train to the suburbs<br />
was packed. Friends called and<br />
texted and <strong>Facebook</strong>ed her,<br />
asking if she was okay. She sent<br />
a message to her parents on<br />
WeChat, telling them she was<br />
safe.<br />
The messages kept<br />
pouring in.<br />
Her frère, via <strong>Facebook</strong>, at<br />
1:14 a.m.: “Hey sister I talked to<br />
mom so I know you’re okay.<br />
Anyway, just wanted to say that<br />
I love you.”<br />
Her response: “thanks frère!<br />
love you too! i cant wait to see<br />
you again during christmas<br />
break!”<br />
One a.m. became 2, and 2<br />
became 3.<br />
Like millions of others, she<br />
stayed late into the night, trying<br />
to understand what had<br />
happened, her face illuminated<br />
by the warm glow of her laptop.<br />
Beijing<br />
When she woke up there were<br />
soldiers on the streets.<br />
Hundreds of them, sitting in<br />
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armored trucks and manning<br />
makeshift barricades. None of<br />
them looked older than 20. She<br />
saw tires in flames and the<br />
burnt out husks of cars. She<br />
could make out tank tracks<br />
smeared across the road.<br />
The night before, June 4, 1989,<br />
she and her husband had fallen<br />
asleep to the sound of tanks.<br />
They lived in a farmer’s shed<br />
near the fourth ring road, east<br />
of central Beijing. He worked at<br />
a factory and she worked at a<br />
research institute.<br />
Every day she sat through a<br />
four-hour bus ride to and from<br />
work.<br />
Sometimes the buses were so<br />
packed she had to wait for the<br />
next one.<br />
She had worked hard her<br />
whole life: straight A’s in high<br />
school, acceptance to a<br />
university in the capital, a<br />
research position after<br />
graduation.<br />
She met her husband in<br />
graduate school. They were poor<br />
enough to live in a farmer’s<br />
shed and not own a television or<br />
telephone; they were ambitious<br />
enough to dream of moving to<br />
America.<br />
When they woke up and saw<br />
the soldiers on June 5, they had<br />
no idea what had happened.<br />
They heard rumors, though:<br />
that Tiananmen Square had<br />
been cleared of the student<br />
protesters who had camped<br />
there for months, that there had<br />
been gunfire, that people had<br />
died.<br />
They stayed inside and didn’t<br />
talk to anyone. They were afraid.<br />
They started to panic.<br />
What had happened the day<br />
before? What would happen<br />
tomorrow? Would things ever go<br />
back to normal? Everything was<br />
shut down: no buses or subways<br />
ran, no<br />
restaurants were open and no<br />
one went to work.<br />
It was as if someone had<br />
pushed the pause button on an<br />
entire city.<br />
And they sat in their shack<br />
and waited.<br />
A few days later, when life<br />
started to regain some<br />
semblance of normality, she<br />
headed to a dian bao da lou, a<br />
telegraph building, near<br />
Tiananmen Square. Her<br />
workplace was near Tiananmen<br />
and throughout the spring she<br />
had seen huge crowds<br />
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become property of Collegian Inc.<br />
Who we are<br />
The Daily Collegian’s editorial<br />
occupying the space.<br />
Now, it was empty.<br />
She waited in line to send a<br />
telegram to her parents. She<br />
didn’t feel particularly<br />
concerned about her family; she<br />
just wanted to let them know.<br />
Telegrams were charged by<br />
the character, though, and since<br />
she was poor, she tried to keep<br />
it as short as possible:<br />
“Everything’s fine.”<br />
State College<br />
“Have you heard from<br />
Xiaomeng?”<br />
I hesitated. It had been a<br />
month since I had contacted my<br />
sister. “No, not for a while,” I<br />
said.<br />
“Do you know if she’s okay?”<br />
he asked. “You know, with<br />
everything going on in Paris.”<br />
Then I remembered: the TV<br />
at the HUB-Robeson Center<br />
showing footage of a terror<br />
attack in Paris. My sister<br />
attending grad school in Paris.<br />
Oh my god.<br />
“The school she goes to is in a<br />
suburb,” I said.<br />
“She’s not in the city. She’s<br />
fine.”<br />
But was she fine? How did I<br />
know? How did I not make the<br />
connection? How did I watch<br />
news of a terror attack in Paris,<br />
shrug my shoulders and then<br />
meet up with a friend for<br />
dinner? What kind of brother<br />
was I — that a friend of hers<br />
immediately put two and two<br />
together when he saw the news<br />
while I, her own flesh and blood,<br />
saw the news and stuffed my<br />
face?<br />
I called my mom. Was Sister<br />
okay?<br />
Yes, she said, Sister is fine.<br />
She had received a message<br />
from her on WeChat. Sister<br />
should be safe in her apartment<br />
now.<br />
I logged onto <strong>Facebook</strong> and<br />
sent my sister a message at 7:14<br />
p.m. I told her I loved her, that I<br />
was sorry for not messaging her<br />
more regularly, that I would<br />
pray for her. She told me she<br />
loved me too, that she was sorry<br />
as well, that she would pray for<br />
me.<br />
I went back to my room and<br />
Skyped my mom. I told her I felt<br />
terrible: that I had failed as a<br />
brother, that I didn’t even think<br />
of her when I saw the news and<br />
that worst of all I couldn’t see<br />
past myself.<br />
opinion is determined by its<br />
Board of Opinion, which is made<br />
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on the editorial page are not necessarily<br />
those of Collegian Inc., a<br />
separate institution from Penn<br />
State.<br />
That while my sister was<br />
safe and sound there were<br />
dozens of families that were<br />
irrevocably broken.<br />
Yet, I didn’t feel relief, only<br />
an inbent spiral of self-hatred<br />
and guilt, that I was a<br />
fundamentally selfish and<br />
loathsome person.<br />
I felt<br />
terrible for feeling terrible.<br />
She said: it’s okay, it’s okay,<br />
it’s okay.<br />
She told me about sending a<br />
telegram to her parents after<br />
the Tiananmen Square<br />
massacre.<br />
Months later she went back<br />
home and her parents told<br />
their side of the story.<br />
Unlike my mom, they owned<br />
a TV and saw the news about<br />
Beijing. They tried calling her<br />
workplace, but no one knew<br />
where she was. Days passed<br />
and they still didn’t hear from<br />
her. They were about to send<br />
their two sons, my uncles, to<br />
Beijing to look for her when<br />
they received her telegram<br />
that was as short as possible.<br />
Were they angry at her?<br />
Of course not, my mom told<br />
me. They were relieved. But<br />
my mom felt terrible.<br />
“At that moment I didn’t<br />
think about how much my<br />
family cared about me. All I<br />
thought about was myself. I<br />
was young and naive. Looking<br />
back, I realized how stupid I<br />
was. To let my family go<br />
through so much heartache,<br />
all because of my selfishness,”<br />
she said.<br />
Mom was at home, Dad had<br />
gone to a hotel in Limerick,<br />
Pennsylvania for a conference,<br />
Sister was in her apartment<br />
and I was in my dorm.<br />
Behind my mom I could<br />
make out family photos on the<br />
shelf: Sister in her cap and<br />
gown, Sister beside the Lion<br />
Shrine, me and Dad and Sister<br />
in front of the Notre Dame<br />
during our vacation in Paris,<br />
the whole family smiling in our<br />
living room.<br />
My mom and I talked late<br />
into the night. Our faces were<br />
illuminated by the warm glow<br />
of our laptops.<br />
Boen Wang is a junior majoring in<br />
engineering science and is The Daily<br />
Collegian’s Monday columnist. Email<br />
him at bvw5180@psu.edu or follow<br />
him on Twitter at @boen_wang.<br />
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