Devin Denny

My life.

Wed, 08 May 2013 17:55:51 -0400

My life.

Home.

Mon, 22 Apr 2013 08:16:15 -0400

Home.

A Bostonian's Reflection on the Boston Marathon Bombings

Tue, 16 Apr 2013 14:24:00 -0400

On my walk to Harvard Yard today, I contemplated yesterday’s terrorist bombings at the Boston Marathon. Less than twenty-four hours have passed, but it’s effect continues throughout Boston. Sirens were the soundtrack of the night. Individuals are thanking cops for their service. Televisions are permanently stuck on reporters’ faces and news tickers.

Yesterday, like football fans and their favorite quarterback fumbling an important play, I screamed at the television for sensationalist journalism. The rhetoric used to describe the disaster was, at times, irresponsible. “Twin bombings” was used to evoke the fear and despair we felt when the Twin Towers collapsed. Al-Qaeda was mentioned multiple times. Muslims were blamed on Twitter. Post-9/11 paranoia was engaged and utilized to keep viewers locked on news channels. In times of fear and uncertainty, it is essential that we look at facts and not let emotions control our actions.

Terrorism, according to the FBI Code of Federal Regulations is, “the unlawful use of force or violence against persons or property to intimidate or coerce a government, the civilian population, or any segment thereof in furtherance of political or social objectives.” This definition does not include specific religious institutions, single-out groups, or describe the personality of a terrorist. Until we have all the facts, blaming an attack on a group and/or individuals with no evidence goes against the spirt of Patriot’s Day; a day which celebrates the freedoms that sparked the Revolutionary War and created our country.

Although this definition is useful, it can fall flat for the general public. Terrorism, at it’s very core, is an act of desperation. Instead of utilizing the power of words or cold logic, an act of cowardice is used to make a political, economic, and/or religious statement. The act of terror that was inflicted on the Boston Marathon intended to rob the joy from Boston’s cherished rite of spring.

This act of terror aimed to shake Boston’s identity: a city full of compassionate individuals who have a penchant for professional sports. A city that is passionate about academics, scientific research, or music. A city that is impossible to win at pub trivia because the breath of knowledge of Harvard and MIT students is downright frightening. A city where cops climbed over the fences immediately after the bombs went off to help the injured. A city where people opened their homes to strangers for food, a shower, and a place to rest their head after running an impossible human feat.

While watching tourists mill around Harvard Square, I am warmed by the amount of Boston Marathon gear worn in support and remembrance. Frankly, the t-shirts are symbolic for the upcoming weeks ahead. We will remember the lives lost and assist those who are affected, but we will not be paralyzed by the Boston Marathon bombings.

The best way to counter acts of terrorism is not to succumb to the fear the terrorist(s) hope to instill. To defy this act of terrorism, live your life, fully and unequivocally.Take comfort in a community that has supported countless strangers, rushed to donate blood, and is bound together with endless stories of kindness. Remember the lives that were lost, but don’t let the grief consume you.

To the terrorist(s) that cowardly planned this act, Boston is a resilient city with plenty of spunk. If you doubt this, this is a city that waited eighty-five years for their beloved team to win a World Series. You don’t mess with that type of spirit.

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cavetocanvas: Maurice de Vlaminck, The Orchard, 1905

Mon, 25 Feb 2013 12:24:58 -0500

cavetocanvas:

Maurice de Vlaminck, The Orchard, 1905

maddieonthings: Coffee with Maddie. Atlanta, GA

Sat, 09 Feb 2013 21:19:27 -0500

maddieonthings:

Coffee with Maddie. Atlanta, GA

Central Square under snow.

Sat, 09 Feb 2013 18:56:00 -0500

Central Square under snow.

newyorker: Cartoon by William Haefeli. For...

Fri, 08 Feb 2013 22:41:15 -0500

newyorker:

Cartoon by William Haefeli. For more: http://nyr.kr/11kRPBI

My life.

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Sun, 20 Jan 2013 12:21:16 -0500

Twenty-Thirteen: A Year of Change

Fri, 28 Dec 2012 19:44:00 -0500

I always ruminate at the end of December (here’s my proof), and this year is no different. I always wonder how I should create demarcations throughout my previous year. Through attendance to professional athletic matches? Through phases of coffee and espresso? Through the shoes I’ve worn out or my academic research projects? Looking back on twenty-twelve, it is apparent that I should divide my year into two categories: travel and stagnant.

This past year, I loved the paved roads, train stations, and the tarmacs. Through chatting up an ex-pat in an airport bar, or staring out the train’s window as it whizzes by the shepherds in the Atlas Mountains, I’ve affirmed something I’ve always known: I’m a wanderer.

I happily sung along to Jonny Cash in the passagener seat to my Alma Mater, Connecticut, New York City, Maine, Toronto, and various sprinklings of Massachusetts. I breathed the pine-fresh air of Denver while being refreshed by West Coast attitude. I fell in love with London: her ales, her history, and her overall demeanor. I lived and traveled throughout Morocco; a country that has trapped me like fireflies in a Mason jar.

My trip to Morocco happily haunts my existence. I dream of the white ceramic mugs, sticky from the sugar in my cafe au lait. When I whiff strong tobacco, I recall watching the Euro Cup on a television threaded to a cafe by extension cords, or being taught the rules of soccer in Arabic with empty Coca-Cola bottles. The heat of my oven’s broiler makes me long for hot, dry days filled with goats’ bleats, children singing songs in a madrasa, and intermittent calls to prayer. I’ve been researching how to make a proper lemon and olive chicken tagine, I scour specialty shops for preserved lemons, and continue to search for an espresso that rivals one from North Africa.

It is easy to identify the highlights of the travel category of twenty-twelve, but the true beauty lies in the highlights of my stagnant periods in Boston: perfect spring days spent walking on the Smoot Bridge, taking a class from one of my academic heroes, or sharing a Sunday New York Times in bed while fighting over the last scone.

This past year, I’ve affirmed what I love about myself: passionate, committed, competitive, inquisitive, and adventurous. I also finally learned that I should never diminish myself for someone else; anyone who will be a positive influence will rise up to the challenges I have to offer. I’ve learned that quiet, personal serenity is what I’ve been searching for all these years. I discovered that a long walk in a city will never fail to clear my head and let the quiet things nestle back into place.

Twenty-thirteen is a year that holds incredible change. The completion of my Master’s degree. Fulfilling a promise to my twelve-year old self and backpacking through Europe. The beginning of my professional career. The move to a new city. The first of many weddings and bridesmaid’s dresses.

Twenty-thirteen, I promise to finally read Kafka, to not let my job-search anxiety negatively affect my temperament, to enjoy the closing moments at Harvard, and to let upcoming changes naturally come into fruition.

pixelislam: المغرب‎ | Morocco | Fas

Tue, 11 Dec 2012 07:55:14 -0500

pixelislam:

المغرب‎ | Morocco | Fas

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Sun, 09 Dec 2012 19:25:13 -0500