No matter what, there is always home. Times may be tough, tragedy may strike, things may not go your way, but there is always home. For some, it’s a placid refuge, and for others, not so much, but there always is home. In our culture there are some things that define us. Home is certainly one of the few that it is impossible to imagine this life without.
While the thought of home may seem eternal, it can be destroyed, and in the past week it has proven to not only be destroyed for many, but violently torn from our short list of untouchables. Not only can our homes be taken, but our neighbor’s homes, and the homes of our neighbor’s neighbor, as well as our places of business, recreation, and essentially everything we know. Entire communities have disappeared. The catastrophe of biblical proportions in New Orleans and the Gulf Region serves as a chilling reminder that nothing is truly guaranteed. An entire city sits underwater, once with flourishing streets filled with commerce and life, and now lies incapacitated. While aid is rushed in and people mourn, we remain jaded to tragedy by the images and scenes of devastation and destruction.
In light and scope of the recent events, I have reflected not only on the concept of a home, but the focus of my everyday life. Lately I feel as though I may have over-emphasized professional and personal development as the means by which to focus. We must, however, remember truly why we should be here—to make the world a better place by living for others and relieving the distress of humanity wherever and whenever possible.
On numerous occasions I have spoken on the importance of innovation and discovery as the means by which to live, but I may have been a bit backwards. When I look at those who have changed the world and their intentions, I see men and women whose passion and purpose was to help those around them, holding strong to the belief that what they did in some manner could contribute to something greater than themselves.
So, as an Institute, we must reach out wherever possible. We have extended our hands and taken in 100 students from Tulane and Xavier to try to provide them with a haven from the harsh reality of their non-existent homes through the Gulf Coast Visiting Scholars Program. While this may seem nominal compared to the magnitude of need, it is a gesture of the right kind. It will act as a precursor to those among the Rensselaer community that will step up in the coming months to heal a wounded region.
Recent events have not only shaped history, but our lives. They cause us to reflect on what we value, what we have, and how truly fortunate we are. Adversity and uncertainty seem to be a pervasive force that we will encounter throughout our lives, but it is the overwhelming compassion and outpouring of love that follows from which I continue to draw hope and optimism.
