The slogan here is "We Remember." April 16 is Remembrance Day. The engraved stone at the VT Memorial reads "We will prevail. We are Virginia Tech," after Nikki Giovanni's poem. Yet, who is "we"?
Like most of us, I wasn't here on 4/16/2007 when Cho killed 33, including himself, causing the worst school shooting in U.S. history and forever scarring this community. Only part of this year's graduating senior class was there, plus many faculty, staff, and Blacksburg residents. I feel that they are "we" so much more than I or our students--we "newcomers"--are or ever could be.
Yes, maybe "when in Rome..." is true, and those who were there really do want to share, and once you've spent even just a year in Blacksburg you've soaked in this town and school's sense of community. Whenever you move to a new place, it changes you... unless you focus exclusively on your studies, in which case you've already failed. But I go to VT and VT goes to me, and so the memory of 4/16, even if not my own, is quickly acquired, a thing to know and feel, like the Hokie stone and the Highty Tighties.
But something doesn't feel right. I feel that we newcomers must hold a respectful double-mindedness about Remembrance Day.
On the one hand, it does feel as if I were here on 4/16/2007. I have chills each time I walk by Norris and West Ambler and I tear up when visiting the Memorial, which I do each month. And yet, on the other hand, I can't feel "just as if" I were there, because I wasn't, and neither were most of the people who are now here. Ain't no "just as if." Back then (I was a sophomore), I remember being critical of the day-after slogan "We Are All Hokies." I used to think, "hell no we're not." We may be supportive, but what right have we to hijack the grieving and healing of a community by retroactively forcing ourselves into it?
There is a tendency in people to parade pain (others' pain, be very sure) and celebrate it, and pity parties are so much easier to join when they're on national TV. And while we no doubt felt genuine grief and solidarity, just as surely there were also hints of fabrication, of hypocrisy, a "me too" bandwagon that is puerile and disrespectful. This is a common occurrence, from Columbine to Michael Jackson, and while it's good that people feel brought together, there is a tendency to disregard the true nature of the event and instead sensationalize a cheap, feel-good, Hallmark-card pretense of belonging and support.
So which one of two minds should prevail? How are we new Hokies (and everybody else) supposed to participate and to what extent are we instead allowed to?
Perhaps we can disambiguate two meanings of "we remember." Perhaps they who were here remember both in the sense of recall and in the sense of remind, of passing on the memory and the lesson while continuing to heal. But we newcomers can only remind, ourselves and others. We weren't here when the burden was placed on this community, and we've no place saying that it's "just as if" we were; but we can lend a hand carrying it.
Those are both worthy enterprises, and we must be careful to know which one we're in the business of doing. In a few years, no one will be left to recall, and "We Remember" will perforce take on the second meaning... so it's worth thinking about how to sensibly and responsibly fill that role instead of fooling ourselves that we're filling the one to which we are not entitled.
(end of post)
