As a New England native, I’ve had my entire childhood to find grievances with winter: first, of course, being the cold. Fingertips pink and numb, nails blue, feet chilled despite a double-layer of socks—and the worst is that it lasts for months each year!
Before last weekend, the whole Northeast began gearing up for New England’s ‘biggest snowstorm in years’. Restaurants announced early closure plans, facilities closed, and Brown cancelled Monday’s on-site classes. With the announcement came a buzz on campus; students gathered supplies, checked forecasts, and made plans to celebrate.
When I chose Brown, I did so based on its culture. I had heard of its supportive, curious, and kind community. Watching how fellow students embraced the snow reaffirmed this choice. Despite the inclement weather, they filled the unshoveled streets, made snowmen and snow angels, sledded down hills, struck each other with snowballs, and danced. People soaked building floors with tracked-in snow, laughing even with frozen hair and white eyelashes.
This cheer was particularly salient following the tragedy last semester. There was an unspoken understanding, even as we laughed: two more of our beloved community members should have shared the joy.
December 13th brought the first snow of the season. That night, my friend and I walked single-file behind a police officer as we evacuated our shelter-in-place. Nobody spoke. The soft red glow of ambulance lights lit up the shadowing buildings of a familiar campus. Caution tape cut through Thayer Street. As we climbed onto the RIPTA, dozens of police with ballistic shields and patrol rifles looked on.
My friend noticed one of the fellow students with whom we had sheltered was shivering. Wearing only a t-shirt and being unable to grab his coat when officers arrived, he was freezing. Without a word, my friend took off her own and gave it to him.
The man who opened fire on our campus—in our home—believed he would shatter our community. Though we grieve and will forever, Brown refuses to allow this. The first week back, friends hugged each other tighter. “I love you’s” felt more potent. Brown proved the world is not ‘irredeemable’ through people’s simple acts of excitement, warmth, and care.
It is impossible to describe how deep of a loss this world faced that day. Being on campus today, I have faith that our community will do all we can to honor them with love and connection. That is, in my opinion, the only way through senseless tragedy.