One of the many pullouts on our way down Mt. LemmonThis week the theme of remembrance came back to me over and over again. Returning to Tucson was great; we came back to running water, electricity, and technology. But the moment I stepped out of the van last Saturday, I began to forget.
I began to forget the faces, the stories, the emotions. And I hate that it is happening.
I wrote nightly the first week and photographed everyday the second week. Yet, when I look back on everything, I feel different. To use Sarah's word, I don't feel the immediacy. I am afraid that these next five weeks will only soften my recollection and emotions.
I do not want this to happen. I do not want their faces, stories, and emotions to become trivial memories that I simply recall and retell. I had hoped, and still do hope, that the experiences and relationships I gained would propel me in my internships, Derechos Humanos and Samaritans, and beyond. But as of right now, I feel a sense of guilt for taking pieces of these individuals and trivializing them in my own mind.
During our reflection atop Mt. Lemmon, I did find a sort of comfort in that everyone felt incapable of relaying their experiences to friends and family. How do we share our experiences? How do we phrase our thoughts and emotions? How do we pass on the urgency? Figuring out these questions will be crucial for when we return to Duke. I do not want to come back as a bumbling fool standing on a soap box, but I want to come back as an impassioned messenger who really understands the lives and issues in the Borderlands.