Unexpected moments of renewal
Sometimes, in spite of all the planning, things just work.
I was the tech designated to “care for” a videoconference today. I do that, from time to time; the tingling feeling of close contact with technology disappeared ages ago. It’s just another of those tasks that are listed beside my name around the office. What set this one apart from all the others was scale: there were twenty sites involved, including one half-way around the world.
This is the eve of Remembrance Day in Canada. Without getting into details (I don’t have many), I know that a great number of people have died to ensure that my way of life (democratic, egalitarian) can go on. Rail against the government if I wish, at least I have that right. As part of a larger vision, the videoconference was set up to bring a large number of students into contact with soldiers currently stationed in Afghanistan. It succeeded.
I was in a room with thirty students, all military dependents. On screen, nine small squares, faintly reminiscent of a game show. Eight other schools, and a meeting room on the military base. The image quality wasn’t great, but at one point it clicked for one of the students. Among the four soldiers on the screen, a parent. Far away. The tears began…
You can’t schedule such moments; you have to “roll with the punches”. As the planned content of the conference came to an end, our site reconnected with Kandahar, for a second, more intimate moment. Parent and child. The rest of us withdrew, but we were there in spirit (whatever that means). And this will be a moment of remembrance, for years to come.
