Just moments after my last post about my friend Jeff’s adventures in blogosphere transparency, I opened the NY Times and read a story.
And now I need to be transparent.
I have tears in my eyes and feel sick with sadness. Usually I can distance myself from news just enough to study it and be immersed in it. But I can’t. Not just now.
Each of us brings a history and a self to our encounters with media and culture, and there are some things I need to share, things that — no more than ten minutes ago — I had with me as I started to read the story.
1) Ten years before I was born, almost an entire generation of my family (8 people) were killed in one horrible traffic accident in Los Angeles. It was many years ago, but the loss has shadowed us for generations.
2) Every summer as an adolescent and young adult, I worked as a camp counselor. It was joy.
3) I have a daughter with mild special needs who has been the beneficiary of some of the most wonderful and dedicated camp counselors and staff members you can imagine.
I am so sorry.
For the three young people, for their families, and for the 600 special needs children and adults who will now — as we all do sooner or later — have to face a moment of grief, a moment when –without warning — time stops and pain becomes a flood.
In our sleep, pain which cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart until, in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom through the awful grace of God.” Aeschylus (525-426 BC)