Note: I refrained from posting this in light of the recent Anti-Charlie events and the violence surrounding them. I had written this post before they occurred. In the end, I decided to still post it. I’ll let you, the reader, decide if you agree with my decision or not.

You know how you will always remember where you were on September 11th? Well, now I will also remember, very vividly, my 29th birthday.

It was near lunch time on January 7th, when I received a BBC notice on my phone saying that two people were shot at the Charlie Hebdo magazine office in Paris. I looked up and asked my French co-workers, “What is Charlie Hebdo?” They looked at me and answered quietly, “a French satirical magazine that is often targeted by terrorists.”

I quickly searched for the Charlie Hebdo website to see where the office was located, but the site would not load, making me wonder how quickly the shooting news was traveling. It finally refreshed for a second and I saw a glimpse of the area code “75011,” which is near where my boyfriend and friends’ office is. I frantically kept refreshing the page until finally I was reassured that the office was far enough away from anyone that I knew and started packing up my things to head to lunch.

At lunch my co-workers and I were all laughing and keeping the mood light discussing birthday and new year plans. I grabbed my phone to show them a photo, when I saw the latest BBC news update: 12 dead at the Charlie Hebdo attack.

By the time we got back from lunch, most of the office was following the scene quietly on their screens and sharing the latest updates via murmurs and whispers. I soon learned that 2 or 3 of the most famous cartoonists were dead, including the editor. A co-worker and I worked at his desk the rest of the afternoon while watching the live Twitter feed, as people started heading to La République. My mom called me at one point, and I picked up right away, because I knew she wasn’t calling to wish me a happy birthday.

That night my boyfriend came over to my apartment to make a birthday dinner and catch up from the holiday break. As we started to discuss the events from that day I all of a sudden looked at him and said, “I don’t have my passport.” I had mailed it 2 days earlier to the US Embassy to be renewed. I decided not to tell my parents.

The following morning the shooting in Montrouge occurred, and there was already anti-Muslim backlash happening around the country. At noon the Ogilvy office gathered together for a moment of silence in the atrium. During the moment of silence I looked up at the glass ceiling and saw nothing but grey and wet raindrops pounding softly on the roof before they rolled away.

Photo credit: Ogilvy PR Paris 

On Friday things took a new turn as the police closed in on the brothers, with hostages, and then the shooter from Montrouge was found, in Paris, with hostages. It felt like Boston all over again, except this time it was me, and not my brother, who was in the city where all of this was happening.

At around 7am US time my youngest brother texted me, “How close are you to all this?” I replied, “Probably about a twenty-five minute metro ride.” We proceeded to text each other throughout the day with the latest updates, whoever could find them first.

Finally it all came to a close around 6pm Paris time, and by 7pm I had packed up my things to go home for the weekend. On my way home I decided to walk up the Champs Elysées instead of taking the metro. The Champs Elysées was eerily calm and “normal” after everything that had occurred in Paris that day. As I kept getting closer to the Arc, more and more people started crossing to the middle of the street and pointing to a lit up sign, as if they had spotted a shooting star. Then I finally saw what they were all pointing to; the top of the Arc de Triomphe was lit up with the sign that said, “Paris est Charlie.”

When I finally reached the Arc there was a man playing “La Vie en Rose” with his accordion, displaying a small French flag, and many smiling tourists were walking around taking pictures. I stood in the middle of the scene for quite some time soaking it all in. It all seemed, oddly, magical.

That night I went to a Cards Against Humanity party (might as well keep a sense of humor), and the group discussed going to the manifestation that Sunday. I had not planned to go, because one, I still did not have my passport, and two, I, admittedly, was afraid. After talking to the group, however, I decided to go, and we scheduled our rendez-vous for Sunday.

On Sunday it was a beautiful day, arguably one of the sunniest days of winter. There were already crowds gathered on the metro at 1pm, even though the protest started at 3pm. I joined friends for brunch in the Marais, and then we walked towards République. We never actually made it there though, because all of the surrounding streets were blocked with a snaking crowd. My one friend and I lost our group early on, but we were able to finish the march to Bastille. It was the largest, most immobile, yet serene crowd I have ever experienced in my life.

So here we are one week later, and of course there is plenty of backlash and negative press, and we are back to the fucked up world we have always lived in (pardon my liberté d’expression). I am equally as horrified and repulsed as the rest of the world by the Boko Haram massacre and the fact that it was hidden from all the news. I also agree that there are plenty of things in the world that the West is blind to, or hides from, which creates hypocrisy and bigotry, and all those other wonderful words that describe our lovely society.

But for once in our godforsaken, yet precious lives, I would really love for us to not forget the positive, no matter how small of a light it was. Because despite everything that has happened in this start of 2015, I, for one, have found at least some, even if very slight, restored faith in humanity. Why, you may ask?

1. The French were actually able to AGREE on something and MAKE A DECISION in less than 48 hours unanimously. Holy shit (excuse my freedom of speech again). Yes, folks, just days (not years) after the attacks on Charlie Hebdo the French were able to unanimously agree to nominate Charlie Hebdo as a citoyen d’honneur (citizen of honor). A country that has 5 main, very divided, political parties (I mean let’s be real, we are talking about communist all the way to fascist here), and prides itself on a well-thought through argument and taking their time, was able to come to a UNANIMOUS DECISION IN 48 HOURS. Amen.
2. I stood in a crowd of nearly 2 million people in the VERY small streets of Paris only days after several terrorist attacks, and no one got hurt. I’m not going to lie, there were definitely moments when I thought to myself, if any one of these people decides to freak out, we are all dead. But instead, we all left standing. Despite all of the different cultures, religious views, political views, countries, opinions, no one got hurt. Everyone marched in peace. For once.
3. The march was France’s largest march in history. Yes, it is very disheartening that the whole world is not able to rally together around other, even more, atrocious events as strongly, but hey, guess what, for once in our lives we did it. Isn’t that still saying something? I can actually say now that before I died I saw over 2 million people of all races, religions, political views and cultures march calmly in agreement for one thing: PEACE. I honestly never thought that I would see the day.

So despite the very rocky start, shall we stay, to 2015, including my week-long bout of a gastrointestinal virus and a slow recovery from a lumbago issue, let’s hang onto the light. Let’s hang onto the tiny moments of light that give us some, if any, hope. Because if those moments can’t, then I honestly don’t know what can.