I was en route to Munich during the Bastille Day attack in Nice. On July 18, I was riding the S-Bahn, returning from an outlying town, when I read about the ax attacks on a Wuerzburg commuter train. I left Munich for Austria not eight hours before the mass shooting at the Olympic Park Shopping Center on July 22. I stood glued to the BBC News in my hotel room that night, watching images of streets I had recently walked and of a gunman firing into a group of people making their way into the mall. I felt electrified with fear. I left the next day, cutting my trip a week short.
Once home, I read about the machete killing in Reutlingen and the explosion at a music festival in Ansbach. I cried for the terrorized country I just left. And soon after, for the club shooting in Fort Myers, the mass knife attack outside of Tokyo, the hostages and priest's killing near Rouen. And then for the insurmountable sense of helplessness I felt.
Germany is now under intense scrutiny for its policies on refugees. No doubt, in weeks to come, messages of hate and exclusion will present themselves in response to these events, as will blanket blame. I understand these sentiments as largely rooted in fear.
Fear is meant to protect us from harm, and we all want to protect our families, and our own lives. As I watched coverage of Munich on lockdown, fear is what persuaded me to leave early, without heading back to Germany as planned. I did not want to feel fearful, but I did. No blame can be placed on someone who is afraid. But we must be thoughtful in the way we let fear influence our decisions.
During my visit, I spent at a day at the Dachau concentration camp outside Munich. The memorial leaves visitors with the message: never again. Never again can we let fear, hate and unchecked power so egregiously impinge on human life. The message feels relevant today.
We cannot let these horrific acts of terrorism continue. Those responsible for hateful, violent acts should be fought against. But we also cannot let panic control our decisions or cause us to blindly blame a group of people and limit their ability to live freely.
How do we reconcile the reality that horrible things are happening in the world with the necessity of carrying on in a way that allows human rights for every person? I don't have the answer for how we find this balance, but I know it will not come easier through more fear or hatred.
History has shown us that balance and peace will not come more quickly through policies that place blame on, and take civil liberties away from, people based on a religious belief or nationality. It will not be found through decisionmaking rooted only in the terror we feel. That is how violence and hate become a circle.
I do not regret my decision to leave this time, but I would regret allowing fear to stop me from traveling in the future. I will continue to travel, to meet people, to have new experiences, to attempt to understand situations and things that I do not understand, because I believe there is no other way to move forward. Exposure to newness, to other, keeps me open-minded, thoughtful and empathetic. It keeps me believing that there is more good than bad in the world and hopeful that there will be a tipping point.
We must honor the fear that we feel but are implored by history to refrain from letting it dictate our lives.
Chelsea Pratte, of Minneapolis, is a graduate student.
