2003-02-02 - 10:02 p.m.
COLUMBIA
Seventh grade science fair and the Columbia disaster seem to have coincided. On the same day that I learned of the destruction of the Columbia upon re-entry, I learned that Day-Hay�s first science fair proposal had been rejected. She�s now chosen a slightly more risky experiment that will involve flames and burning. Ironically, the experiments aboard the Columbia ultimately resulted in flames and burning. While you can control risk in science, apparently you can�t eliminate it. Exploration always seems to require some risk. The question seems to be whether the potential benefits outweigh the potential risks. The astronauts thought they did and that�s good enough for me.
The astronauts knew the risks, chose to go, and lost the bet. They died doing what they loved and what they chose to do. Much of the nation has responded with moments of silence, makeshift memorials of teddy bears, flowers, and candles (such as the one in Racine, the city Laurel Clark is from), and great displays of mourning. I think it sad and I feel for the families, co-workers, and friends they left behind but I seem to stand apart from the great breast-beating and sobbing. The loss here is not senseless, just very unfortunate. There does not appear to be a bad guy, just an accident.
I�ve often noticed that prominent loss of some seems much more important than the quieter loss of others. Grief counselors will be pouring all over Horelick High School in Racine tomorrow but I�ll bet there was some kid there who lost a parent earlier this year and could not find a single one around. A few years back when an entire family died in a local house fire, the school guidance counselors spent days and days trying to make sure that the children worked through their feelings. The year before, when Mr. Philately�s stepbrother killed himself, the elementary counselor was sad to report that no resource for Day-Hay was available through the school.
I almost feel like a voyeur this time. I know what is expected of me. Our junior rabbi told us all this morning, while I was subbing for a teacher at religious school, that �we all feel sad.� But I don�t. Not exactly. My feelings are no stronger than they are when I hear about an earthquake in South America. I�m sorry, at least for as long as I�m hearing about it but it has no greater impact on me. I cannot think of a single way in which this event will change my day-to-day life. It will not change my view of space exploration because I accept that exploration has risks. Unless we are prepared to discuss on the occasion of the first casualty whether war is worth it, it seems hypocritical for the deaths here to cause such a discussion.
What would the astronauts think of all of this wailing? I doubt that most of them would be pleased by it. I suspect that most of them would want us to stop wringing our hands, figure out what went wrong, and press on. And I think that if we owe them anything at all, we owe them that.
LAST YEAR: Fashion Advice From an Unlikely Source
LAST FIVE ENTRIES:
Leveled
For Their Time
36 Years
Losing My Mind
A Time for Every Purpose
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Copyright 2006 by Ellen |
