Disgust

I've mused about the possible terrorism in New Zealand before. In the thick of attacks in England, France, the United States, Belgium and even Australia, many sought refuge in New Zealand. "It just takes one attack," I thought aloud. And in the moments after the attack, I look back on those words with sadness. We were never immune and today our moment of darkness arrived.

Of course I've read and followed news items of such acts abroad. When it happens at home, in a place where I was less than three months ago, a place within one hour drive of where my father will move to, it puts the outrage of it in perspective. I cannot fathom what kind of perversion can make minds wilfully take the lives of innocents, taking them out one at a time, despite the raw human sound of terror, pain and suffering. Thirty people were slaughtered in one place. Ten at another. Forty lives extinguished with deliberate intent. David Gray took thirteen in our previous worst shooting and that was horrid enough in scale for our small country.

I'm not one to quote the typical shock words of officials after these things. Even in grief it's often boilerplate hopes and prayers. But Jacinda Ardern's words I find rather apt:

"They may even be refugees here. They have chosen to make New Zealand their home, and it is their home. They are us. The person who has perpetuated this violence against us is not. They have no place in New Zealand." 

There is so much global angst against immigrants. I hope this stance in the minor and in the major scale of things is what I hope can last.