I keep reading the names to myself: Bernice Simon. Sylvan Simon. Melvin Wax. Daniel Stein. Irving Younger. Rose Mallinger. Jerry Rabinowitz. Joyce Feinberg. Richard Gottfried. Cecil Rosenthal. David Rosenthal. While I don’t know any of these victims personally, too many of my friends and family from northeast Ohio share these same names.
We’ve become way too used to hearing the news about these mass shootings. We’re constantly ready to retweet the painfully true and recurring Onion article stating “‘No Way To Prevent This,’ Says Only Nation Where This Regularly Happens.” But this time, being someone who grew up in a Jewish community that parallels much of that of the Squirrel Hill community, this news hits a little extra close to home.
This is just the latest of an unfortunate pattern. In 2015, it was the African American community who felt this pain following the church shooting in Charleston, SC. In 2016, it was the LGBT community who felt this pain following the Pulse nightclub shooting. The pattern is not just limited to these examples. Sadly, at the rate our government has been responding to these tragedies, the pattern likely won’t be ending soon.
German Lutheran Pastor Martin Niemoller’s Holocaust era “First They Came” poem rings loud today: “…Then they came for the Jews and I did not speak out because I was not a Jew… Then they came for me and there was no one left to speak out for me.”
It is not just my sincere hope that our leaders and elected officials are taking the message of this poem to heart — as citizens, we must demand this from our leaders. We don’t want to find out which community will be attacked next. Demand action. Demand better. Speak out and vote for leaders who will stand up for all of us.
Alex Jackson is a sophomore studying strategic communications at Ohio University. Please note that the views and opinions of the columnists do not reflect those of The Post. How has the new university policy affected you? Let Alex know by tweeting him @alexjackson716.
