I am not from Boston. But, as the Presidentsaid yesterday, I still claim it. I claim its people, its values, and, yes, even its sports teams. The winters may be long, but the springs are all the more beautiful. I love thick Boston accents heard on the T, the view of sailboats and skyline from the Longfellow Bridge, and the fact that Sweet Caroline rings out from Fenway during every Red Sox home game.
Just as I have learned—and am learning—from Boston’s great universities, so have I learned from its people. Bostonians are strong and proud—never more so than when provoked by senseless acts against our values. We are an independent people. We believe in community and service to others. And we have an intractable faith in our ability to persevere—and to prosper, especially when others want to keep us down.
I am writing these words of strength as much for me as for anyone else. The truth is this week’s events in Boston have been crushing. But they will not be so for long. Once the sirens stop and we can once again go outside, we will return to our daily life as stronger people—more resilient from having witnessed such horrors.
I have never been more proud to be a member of the MIT community. The Institute’s motto is mens et manus—mind and hand. We come up with ideas that will strengthen society, and then we make them happen. We may be nerds, but we are serious about what we do. And this week has been no different.
We honor the MIT police officer who gave his life last night in the line of duty. We salute our classmates who ran in Monday’s marathon, who are raising money for victims, and who are right now analyzing real time data to shed light on the manhunt. We pray for all those who are struggling to find a sense of place and of peace in this crazy world. And we strengthen our resolve to foster a more compassionate, just society.
I was a freshman at Tufts when two planes left Logan airport and altered America’s sense of security forever. On Monday, I was walking home from the marathon when two bombs, placed to kill innocent civilians, once again violated our sense of security. And last night, I was on campus when the fire fight started just blocks away. These tragic events, twelve years apart, have deepened—not weakened—my attachment to this city. And though the fear weighs heavy on us now, I know that our spirit—the spirit of MIT, of Boston—will reign on.
Just as I have learned—and am learning—from Boston’s great universities, so have I learned from its people. Bostonians are strong and proud—never more so than when provoked by senseless acts against our values. We are an independent people. We believe in community and service to others. And we have an intractable faith in our ability to persevere—and to prosper, especially when others want to keep us down.
I am writing these words of strength as much for me as for anyone else. The truth is this week’s events in Boston have been crushing. But they will not be so for long. Once the sirens stop and we can once again go outside, we will return to our daily life as stronger people—more resilient from having witnessed such horrors.
I have never been more proud to be a member of the MIT community. The Institute’s motto is mens et manus—mind and hand. We come up with ideas that will strengthen society, and then we make them happen. We may be nerds, but we are serious about what we do. And this week has been no different.
We honor the MIT police officer who gave his life last night in the line of duty. We salute our classmates who ran in Monday’s marathon, who are raising money for victims, and who are right now analyzing real time data to shed light on the manhunt. We pray for all those who are struggling to find a sense of place and of peace in this crazy world. And we strengthen our resolve to foster a more compassionate, just society.
I was a freshman at Tufts when two planes left Logan airport and altered America’s sense of security forever. On Monday, I was walking home from the marathon when two bombs, placed to kill innocent civilians, once again violated our sense of security. And last night, I was on campus when the fire fight started just blocks away. These tragic events, twelve years apart, have deepened—not weakened—my attachment to this city. And though the fear weighs heavy on us now, I know that our spirit—the spirit of MIT, of Boston—will reign on.
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