The Time Between Tragedy and Blame
What a tragic start to the week.
To wake on a Monday sombre and speechless to the Bondi Shootings really was not a nice way to start the week.
I’m writing this blog after some reflection and observations of the ordeal as it spread on the news and like lighting flashes we begin to seed video after video and angle after angle of the scene that unfolded. Marked with terror with a hint of heroism.
This blog isn’t to highlight the violence or replay the details as that’s well an truely known world wide. But it’s the quiet happenings of after an event like this that I wanted to share on.
In the first moments, something really human shows up. People come together. Strangers check in on each other. Flowers appear. Messages of love and support flood in. Politics, opinions, and arguments all seem to pause for a second.
There’s this brief window where everyone is just human, hurting together.
Then soon enough, there’s something that begins to shift.
Like a bush fire, questions turn into spot fires of blame. Unity turns into sides. The noise gets as the winds of social media and anonymous comments speak seemingly louder. Everyone feels pressure to have an opinion, to point fingers, to argue about causes, responsibility, or what should happen next.
I’ve observed over the past few years that small window of compassion closes faster than it used to.
After the events unfolded, I was curious to see what broadcasts were like when the Port Arthur massacre had occured. I was only a kid so I didn’t really know about it. But after observing about 30 minutes of news broad casts from the 90s from during the scene to the week after the event was really eye opening.
It stayed more focused on the grief, the loss, the people, the victims and the tragedy that unfolded.
But now with 24/7 social media that space for what could be described as a collective mourning is now shorter than ever.
This isn’t really about Bondi alone. It feels like a wider pattern. We see it everywhere and not just with big events, but even in everyday life. Stress, pressure, end-of-year exhaustion, rising costs, family strain. People are tired. And tired people are quicker to divide.
don’t have answers. I’m not trying to fix anything with this post.
I just wish we could hold onto that first moment a little longer. The moment where we sit with each other in the pain, without rushing to split apart. The moment where we remember we’re all human before anything else.
Maybe that’s something worth protecting.
I do share my condolences to those who lost their lives and the Jewish community who have been heavily impacted by this.
Take the time today and this week to be kind, show some love and let go of social if you find yourself holding clenched fists more than open hands.
If you need extra support please reach out:
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