(January 27, 2007) — “I said my Friday prayer and shot him.” Such were the words of 16-year-old Ogun Samast, as quoted by several international news outlets as part of his confession to the murder of Turkish-Armenian journalist Hrant Dink. Exactly one week ago—January 19—Samast took a bus from his town of Trabzon, Turkey to Istanbul, where Dink’s weekly newspaper, Agos , has its headquarters. At around noon that day, Samast approached Dink outside the Agos building and fired four consecutive bullets, two of which hit Dink in the head, killing him instantly. Samast ran, unaware that he was being filmed by security cameras, leaving Dink’s destroyed body face-down on the pavement. Word spread quickly of Dink’s murder, and Samast was arrested less than two days later after his own father turned him in—he recognized his son’s face from the security photos released to the public. A confession was soon after made, and now Samast is awaiting trial. Rumors continue to circulate about the young man’s motives and the possibility of a third planning party. Thousands of Turkish citizens have gathered in the past week to commemorate Dink’s death and to protest his untimely end. On Wednesday, about 200 people gathered outside the Turkish consulate here in Los Angeles to do the same. Many may be surprised upon reading this, but the point being made here has absolutely nothing to do with the Armenian Genocide. Although Dink was a prominent figure in the Turkish Government’s recent condemnations of writers who commit the illegal act of “insulting Turkishness,”—which includes the mention of the words “recognition” and “Armenian Genocide” in the same sentence—his murder should not be interpreted solely as a testament to that specific situation. One must also see how strongly it alludes to the fact that despite the vast waves of progression that have hit the world at the turn of the century, large portions of its population remain behind, living with ideals and expectations that no longer apply to the present. The consequences of such can be seen daily in the pressure cooker that was once the Middle East and, more relevantly, Dink’s assassination. Born in 1990, Samast is 16 years old. To understand the weight of this point, consider the following: replace Samast’s image with that of any junior at Clark and replay the story of how he ended up. Imagine a Clark junior purchasing a gun, travelling to Washington, D.C. and shooting a reporter in the head. Feels heavier, doesn’t it? At Wednesday’s vigil, I heard an elderly woman abruptly begin chanting “Shame on Turkey,” as a means of placing the blame for Dink’s death on the Turkish government. Constantly criticized by the international community for its lack of democratic ideals, the government of Turkey is now bearing the weight of this event, fighting against taunts of failure and shame. However, that woman’s words are only half of what needs to be said. Yes, shame on Turkey. But even more so, shame on the rest of the world. Shame on the rest of the world for spending millions on the paychecks of tycoons and politicians, managing to facilitate the celebrity of talentless entrepreneurs, for fighting fruitless wars and yet failing to instill the simple concepts of freedom and respect in its youth. Shame on the world for letting Ogun Samast ruin his life by choosing murder over thought and verbal expression. Shame on our global culture for failing to educate our generation in the art of logic. Ogun Samast is a victim of the world’s failure; Hrant Dink was a sacrifice for the effort to stop any in the future who may consider following in Samast’s footsteps. The world ought to take notice of how it has let down its own potential and the new generation, and fight to re-direct its attention to what matters. Otherwise, downfalls such as those of Dink and Samast will reach epidemic proportions, eventually destroying all hope of renewal and progression. Action must be taken, before it is too late.