Secondhand Sourkrout

A place of Fermenting genius.
Thoughts on the Boston Bombing by Deejae Harper


The bombings in Boston were horrible. I sat in shock as the news reported the 150 injured, and showed the little boy who lost his life. It made me look at the world a little harder, made me wonder about the humans who would do this to people they had never met, who had never personally slighted them. All because they were born and raised in a country far different from their own. 
I was even more shocked to see how the people on the internet were talking about the bombings. They didn’t have the facts, they blamed a whole race of people, and they were calling for bombs to be dropped on the whole population. Not to mention they were calling for the eradication of the wrong country, claiming it was the Czech Republic or Iraq, or a thousand other places that have nothing to do with two extreme boys with badly made bombs. 
I began to listen to the people around me. A woman in my typing class said we needed to “bomb the whole country” of people who did this to us. She then proceeded to say that it had to have been those “damn Muslims from Iraq.” This was before we found out it was a totally different country. She was ready to send bombs to destroy innocent people who didn’t even set the bomb.
I am all for making sure others don’t bomb us… but bombing innocent children and civilians because of one hate group? Are so many Americans really willing to commit mass genocide because of two lost people? Wouldn’t that make us just as bad as the people who hurt us in the first place? 
People want to believe they are right. They want to believe their mission in life is superior. Sometimes logic fails people and they think only with their patriotism, which can lead to foolish, blind mistakes. 
I minored in Asian studies when I attended university in Reno. One day I was assigned a program to watch. This program featured the firsthand accounts of Japanese citizens who were between the ages of 6 and 16 when the bombs were dropped, including the firebombing. 
Each story was one of horror. 
One old man recounted how his house collapsed and he had to listen to his 2 year old sister and mother cry for help as the house burned around them. 
Another was under a tree when acid rain fell. Everyone else died because they drank the rain.
Each of these people were no older than 11 when the bombs fell. They were not soldiers; they were not the ones who started the war. But they were sure the ones who suffered for it.
My step-grandmother walked into the room as one man wept for his sister. She pointed at the TV and said, “They deserved it, those dumb Japs.” 
We got into an argument. I argued that they were children at the time, innocent of the crimes of the Japanese army did. 
I said, “Haven’t they suffered enough? Wasn’t the death of everyone they knew and everything they loved enough hatred for a lifetime?” 
She kept on saying how they deserved it, they were dirty. They hurt us so we had to hurt them.
That just stuck with me. This idea that you can never let go of the hatred that war has to stay with us, generation after generation, until we are knotted and twisted. My step-grandmother could not remember a time before her hatred and she will die with that hatred still burning inside her. She has no room for forgiveness, no room to see that not everyone of Japanese descent wanted to hurt her. 
That those old men and women crying on the television wish, more than anything, that the damn war never happened. 
Bombing Iraq or Chechnya won’t take back the hurt. It won’t make time rewind, make those young men choose a better path. Limbs will not regrow. The bombs will still have gone off, the people will still be hurt, and people will still be dead. 
But if we bomb a whole group of people for the sins of two backwards, extreme terrorists, then we will just be adding more hurt to the world. We will be taking our pain and multiplying it a thousand times. And for what end? So we can feel like we gave the bird to the world, like we are in charge of our tragedies? 
Death happens. We cannot undo death with more death. Everyone dies. But we do not have to stoop to the level of terrorists. Sure, two boys ruined so many lives that day. But people also rushed to the aid of the injured. The whole country came out in support. Millions of people showed their generosity, pride, and kindness in the days since the tragedy happened. 
Why are we so focused on the hatred when the good, kind people more than make up for all the bad in the world? Sure, bring them to justice, help those in need, make war… but take a moment and think about all the heroes of this tragedy, all the people who said, “I am going to help even if there is another bomb, even if I die.” 
I don’t want this generation to feel the same way my step-grandmother does about the Japanese. I don’t want to stand behind my children and say, “Well, I am glad they are weeping. They deserved all the pain we gave them for what some people did to us.” 
Will we all stand up and say, “Well they were dirty Arabs and they deserved it.” 
I don’t want to be that person. I don’t want to have that hatred represent a generation. 



//

Thoughts on the Boston Bombing by Deejae Harper

The bombings in Boston were horrible. I sat in shock as the news reported the 150 injured, and showed the little boy who lost his life. It made me look at the world a little harder, made me wonder about the humans who would do this to people they had never met, who had never personally slighted them. All because they were born and raised in a country far different from their own.

I was even more shocked to see how the people on the internet were talking about the bombings. They didn’t have the facts, they blamed a whole race of people, and they were calling for bombs to be dropped on the whole population. Not to mention they were calling for the eradication of the wrong country, claiming it was the Czech Republic or Iraq, or a thousand other places that have nothing to do with two extreme boys with badly made bombs.

I began to listen to the people around me. A woman in my typing class said we needed to “bomb the whole country” of people who did this to us. She then proceeded to say that it had to have been those “damn Muslims from Iraq.” This was before we found out it was a totally different country. She was ready to send bombs to destroy innocent people who didn’t even set the bomb.

I am all for making sure others don’t bomb us… but bombing innocent children and civilians because of one hate group? Are so many Americans really willing to commit mass genocide because of two lost people? Wouldn’t that make us just as bad as the people who hurt us in the first place?

People want to believe they are right. They want to believe their mission in life is superior. Sometimes logic fails people and they think only with their patriotism, which can lead to foolish, blind mistakes.

I minored in Asian studies when I attended university in Reno. One day I was assigned a program to watch. This program featured the firsthand accounts of Japanese citizens who were between the ages of 6 and 16 when the bombs were dropped, including the firebombing.

Each story was one of horror.

One old man recounted how his house collapsed and he had to listen to his 2 year old sister and mother cry for help as the house burned around them.

Another was under a tree when acid rain fell. Everyone else died because they drank the rain.

Each of these people were no older than 11 when the bombs fell. They were not soldiers; they were not the ones who started the war. But they were sure the ones who suffered for it.

My step-grandmother walked into the room as one man wept for his sister. She pointed at the TV and said, “They deserved it, those dumb Japs.”

We got into an argument. I argued that they were children at the time, innocent of the crimes of the Japanese army did.

I said, “Haven’t they suffered enough? Wasn’t the death of everyone they knew and everything they loved enough hatred for a lifetime?”

She kept on saying how they deserved it, they were dirty. They hurt us so we had to hurt them.

That just stuck with me. This idea that you can never let go of the hatred that war has to stay with us, generation after generation, until we are knotted and twisted. My step-grandmother could not remember a time before her hatred and she will die with that hatred still burning inside her. She has no room for forgiveness, no room to see that not everyone of Japanese descent wanted to hurt her.

That those old men and women crying on the television wish, more than anything, that the damn war never happened.

Bombing Iraq or Chechnya won’t take back the hurt. It won’t make time rewind, make those young men choose a better path. Limbs will not regrow. The bombs will still have gone off, the people will still be hurt, and people will still be dead.

But if we bomb a whole group of people for the sins of two backwards, extreme terrorists, then we will just be adding more hurt to the world. We will be taking our pain and multiplying it a thousand times. And for what end? So we can feel like we gave the bird to the world, like we are in charge of our tragedies?

Death happens. We cannot undo death with more death. Everyone dies. But we do not have to stoop to the level of terrorists. Sure, two boys ruined so many lives that day. But people also rushed to the aid of the injured. The whole country came out in support. Millions of people showed their generosity, pride, and kindness in the days since the tragedy happened.

Why are we so focused on the hatred when the good, kind people more than make up for all the bad in the world? Sure, bring them to justice, help those in need, make war… but take a moment and think about all the heroes of this tragedy, all the people who said, “I am going to help even if there is another bomb, even if I die.”

I don’t want this generation to feel the same way my step-grandmother does about the Japanese. I don’t want to stand behind my children and say, “Well, I am glad they are weeping. They deserved all the pain we gave them for what some people did to us.”

Will we all stand up and say, “Well they were dirty Arabs and they deserved it.”

I don’t want to be that person. I don’t want to have that hatred represent a generation.

This is my brand new kitten, Kabuki. She is two months old.

This is my brand new kitten, Kabuki. She is two months old.

Yeah, I would get rid of the husband.

Yeah, I would get rid of the husband.

This completely explains twilight right here.

This completely explains twilight right here.