This young woman was killed last night, barely after dark in a neighborhood that my own daughter has spent much time in. In fact, it is much nicer than most of where my daughter lived over the last 2 years sub-letting in Harlem, Washington Heights and Brooklyn re-tooling her craft from a singer to primarily a composer before re-entering school this fall.
This poor 18 year old kid, Tessa Majors, a Freshman at Barnard, was also a musician. A bass player in a band. My kid has started gigging electronic music around the city. Not to superimpose our situation on this poor family’s situation but the parallels are undeniable. At first my daughter was shocked. But life goes on.
People are killed all the time in America. All. The. Time. It’s not a happy place beneath the surface as we roast chestnuts, drink festive concoctions and you and I obsess here about the stock market, with that most divisive of characters out front cheer leading on Twitter. But when you see a kid with everything to live for end up like this, you take note and you take stock of what’s really important.
