On Monday,
I spoke to a good friend who grew up in the 16th arrondissement of
Paris. Like me, she has worked in international humanitarianism throughout the
world. On the night of November 13th, she also joined me in the set
of people who have been personally touched by a tragedy that the mass media
deemed of international proportions. In my case, the tragedy was the Virginia
Tech Massacre of 2007, in which I lost a few friends and knew several others
who were killed. In the algorithmic world of social media, both of us had
seemingly whittled down our Facebook news feeds to those with whom we more or
less agree on major social issues. Strangely, a sad phenomenon crept up in both
of our feeds following the attacks in Paris – some people thought it was appropriate
and necessary to shame those who mourned for Paris with articles, images and
status updates about other, less heard tragedies.
Being in
a field that is often defined by massive and heartbreaking losses of life, I
had a visceral reaction to the sudden outpouring of “care” for other
international tragedies. At least in part, this is because of the hypocritical
superficiality of this so-called alternative narrative. The fact that so many
people posted in an effort to “call out privilege” or to “put mourning for
Paris in check” made me sick.
Is there
privilege inherent to an American posting a picture of their vacation to Paris
to show solidarity with France? Yes, absolutely. Is there a media bias that
favors coverage of 130+ people dying in Paris over Beirut or Kenya or Burundi
or Somalia or another economically developing country with people of color? Of
course. But this is neither the place nor time to use these as weapons to demonize those who are trying to find
an outlet for their pain, to stand with their French friends or to simply
support a foreign country.
Privilege
comes in all forms and, in fact, social media is largely designed to showcase
that privilege. When my straight friends post pictures of their anniversary and
talk about how they married their high school sweetheart, they are mired in
privilege, because as a gay woman, I never had the luxury of dating someone I
was attracted to when I was that young. When I post a status update about my
upcoming work trip to Africa, that is mired in privilege, because I had the
economic means to study and make a career out of what I love doing. As someone
who has devoted considerable time and energy to correcting those imbalances, as
my colleagues distribute food in war-torn countries, or set up a new public
health system, or as local activists empower their own people to speak freely
for the first time, we know there is a way, a time and a place to call out privilege.
We also know that if a person chooses to acknowledge the pain and suffering of
an event that that does not mean this person does not care about others.
Paris is
one of the most visited cities in the world. It is one of the most
socioeconomically diverse cities in the world. It is one of the most vibrant
cities in the world. Paris is a city that has offered a lot of people a piece
of itself, and for this reason, an attack on Paris is something that resonates globally.
Yes, there are vicious and heinous attacks on many parts of the world. The
media needs to do a better job of covering these issues, but people need to do a better job of caring. This means not just
passively caring or caring when it’s in vogue. This means caring in a way that
is productive, helpful and acknowledges that one person’s fight may not be same
for the next person.
The
semester of the Virginia Tech Massacre, the people I knew best that died worked
tirelessly with me to help raise campus awareness of what was happening Darfur,
Sudan. After the Massacre happened, the support online, through the phone and
in-person was such a valuable lifeline when I most needed the help. That
support told me it was okay to break down crying in the street, or question why
such amazing people were killed or that the events would forever alter who I
am. Our capacity to love and support is not limited; my capacity to care about
Darfur and mourn for my friends was not mutually exclusive. Our capacity to
mourn Paris and Beirut and Somalia and Burundi and the other
tragedies of the world in a healthy, pro-active way is not limited.
Do not
use your newfound knowledge of the world to shame those who stand with France.
