On Dec. 1, I found out from my neighbour that actor Paul Walker had died. When I learned that his death was the result of a car accident, I couldn’t help but realize the irony of him doing so many Fast & the Furious movies only to die in a real life car accident.
It was so nice to see so many of his fans on my Facebook list pay tribute to not only him, but also graciously to the passenger in the car who was not an actor, and certainly no one famous.
Later on in the week I logged onto Facebook to see what had gone on since I had been away. My eyes fixed on a friend’s post, which said “RIP Nelson Mandela.” I was instantly sad like I was when I heard a couple months previously about how sick he was. The thought of losing someone who had been so important to international events in recent history almost produced an ache in my chest.
I felt lucky at that moment for the way I had been raised, with so much emphasis placed on education, integrity and caring for the least of society and for equal rights for everyone—all things that Mandela wanted his life to portray, all things he was willing to die for.
I was the lucky recipient of a liberal arts education at the University of Windsor where I learned about politics, power structures, history, sociology and women’s studies. With these areas of interest, I was able to go out into the adult world seeking additional but personal research into the inter-relation of these topics to historical events such as the Holocaust, the Civil Rights Movement, the Vietnam War, Kennedy’s assassination, police brutality in Los Angeles, and of course the events surrounding September 11th and the War on Terror.
While scanning my news feed on Dec. 6, I came across a post from a friend from high school who holds as many of the same core values as I do. She was appalled that so many people publicly mourned Paul Walker but barely anyone on her list knew who Nelson Mandela was.
I hadn’t thought about it like that, but agreed with her totally. A former friend of mine commented: “My news feed is full of posts about him [Nelson Mandela] and X Factor mentioned him, and to be honest I never heard of him till today.”
Under her comment, but not directed at her, I echoed my friend’s sentiment, “One of the most important men in recent history, but Paul Walker will be missed because he was ‘hot.’”
The former friend tried to rationalize her ignorance with, “I’ve been reading up a lot on this guy and watched the news that was all about Mandela, very sad, and like Connie said he’s been out of the media for so long so not a lot of people know of him…yes Stacy you’re right, hot Paul Walker who we all grew up watching in movies.”
This infuriated me but I tried hard to respond in a way that would honour Mr. Mandela’s memory, not serve to ease my fury: “No he hasn’t been out of the media for two centuries, or folks of our generation would never know who he is. It’s all about what kind of media you choose to pay attention to. I have seen only one Paul Walker movie and you and I are the same age. I value learning from issues of racial oppression, poverty, honour, integrity and overcoming the odds … learning from heroes who can teach me how to be a better person to perhaps make society a little better.”
The public dichotomy between how my generation has handled these two deaths hurts my heart. Paul Walker’s value was that he made entertaining movies that serve to distract his audiences from how hard daily life is. There is something very important about that because even those of us who find value in learning about hard-hitting issues, could not do so with all our life’s precious moments or we would never know how to let go and simply enjoy life—something we all have the right to do.
Sure Paul Walker was nice to look at, but Nelson Mandela was South Africa’s first democratically elected President, most famous political prisoner, greatest freedom fighter, famous orator, lawyer, and hope for everyone that you can rise above your circumstance and lead people with love. I mourn for a time when it would have been easy to discern which man would find priority in our consciousnesses.
- Stacy Mayer