I write for a living. I don’t know if I’ve mentioned that on this blog before, but I feel like it’s important to mention right now, because it partially explains my absence from posting recently. I’ve been sitting here in the snowy mountains, continuing to knit up a storm while winter sort of petered out prematurely around me.
I’m a public relations writer at a university, the same one where I graduated four years ago after receiving what I believe is the best journalism education in the country. I write a lot of different things, including articles, magazine features, simple newsletters for campus, etc. I love my work and I think it’s the greatest thing in the world to get paid to write, but lately it’s left me with little interest in writing in my spare time, even on this blog, which I also love.
But I knew I’d come back to it eventually, when I had something to say. Sadly, today I do have something to say.
For those of you who’ve been following my blog for the past couple years, you’ll know that I knit a lot of baby stuff “just in case.” I finally have a real little person to knit for now, because my husband an I are welcoming a nephew into the world this summer. I’m extremely excited and I’ve been planning very special little knits for the new man in my life, even though he’ll live in Southern California, where knitters dare not tread.
Over the weekend I knit this Norwegian Sweet Baby Cap, a pattern I’ve been in love with for years. I used a dark blue cotton/acrylic and some self-striping sock yarn to make what I think is the cutest little bonnet ever. It’s incredibly soft and light, but feels cool and luxurious in your hand. I took this little bonnet to work with me today, partly because I wanted to take some photos in nice light at my office, and partly because I just hadn’t finished fawning over it yet.
As a former journalist and someone who still works with the media, I keep a news tab open on my computer pretty much all day. This afternoon one word took over my news and Twitter feeds: Boston. I’m a big fan of running, so I was paying attention to the marathon, but my world kind of stopped today when I realized the gravity and horror of the bombings that took place at America’s oldest, most prestigious race.
I have been saddened lately that every time I read the news or turn on the television someone is talking about another mass shooting, stabbing, bombing or other attack. But, I’m sorry to say, I’ve become desensitized to it over the years. I was 14 when 9/11 happened, even younger during Columbine. I’ve grown up in an America of mass violence on a horrifying scale, and although it is sad, it’s become the America I know.
But today something snapped. I’m always saddened by tragedies like this, even if I’m not shocked. But when I read the news about Boston, saw the photos, watched the videos and heard people crying in terror, I instinctively reached over to my desk and grabbed this little bonnet.
I suddenly became scared that my nephew and the my future children will be born into this America.
Many people have said today that the good people always outnumber the bad, and that’s true. But it doesn’t change the fact that I found myself crying at my desk today as I thought of the happiness of the runners, their families and the bystanders who were enjoying the Boston Marathon, and then the sadness and fear that overtook the event and always will mar our memory of this day and the race.
I now live in a country were you can’t safely go to a movie theater, watch a race on a street, go shopping in a mall or even attend school, not only as a teenager or adult, but as a small child.
I can pour all the love in the world into these tiny stitches and hope that my new nephew will feel it, but I am helpless to protect the people most important to me from the extreme violence that has overtaken us.
My brother-in-law, the little nephew’s father, is a sheriff’s deputy in a dangerous county in California. He goes to work every day to protect people and make his community a safer place. I vote for politicians I believe will work to help us stem violence in our country. I listen to my stepdaughter and try to help her work through her inevitable emotions of angst, isolation and disappointment. We keep no weapons in the home, so if talking doesn’t work, no options of mass violence are readily available to express those emotions.
I feel my family does all that it can to prevent these tragedies from happening, but nothing changes the fact that this morning that little bonnet made me happy, and tonight it makes me sad.
Tags: baby, Boston, violence
Sockilism 