A week before September 11, 2001, I had just started my first week of high school. I was a freshman and my life was going through many difficult changes, or so I thought. This all changed after I lined up in my squad for P.E. class, in my Lake Braddock gym shorts and shirt. As my teacher came out to take roll and get class started, another teacher came running up to him and pulled him aside, he whispered something, which at the time I never could have imagined what it would be. We all sat patiently, like usual some people talked, but that day it was strangely quiet. No one told us anything right away. Class plans had changed, however, and instead of doing our activities outside, we were in the gym, which was odd, because the weather was decent. It was almost as if we all caught on to the sense of tragedy the rest of the class was run by. Somehow a girl in my class found out the information that something had happened to the Twin Towers. She never said anything to the magnitude of what was really going on, because like most people it didn’t register right away. I admit I felt very guilty after discovering what really happened, that I didn’t know what the twin towers were. I had no knowledge of what the World Trade Center was before its demise. After the events, I didn’t know whether to blame myself for being unaware of aspects of the nation I represent or blame my education system. I later realized that blame had no place in my mind, because that’s part of what contributed to this horrific event in the first place. Historical events were also part of it too, but simple feelings of hatred and blame played a great role as well.
Eventually, the news of what was really happening spread by the time I got to my lunch period. Teachers had turned the televisions on with the footage and all I can remember is chaos and disbelief. Being from this area, many students, including myself, have parents who work close to the Pentagon or in the DC area, everyone was just trying to find a way to be reassured that their loved ones were okay. We were allowed to take our cell phones out and call loved ones. I called my mom, but could never get a hold of her on her cell phone or at work. We sat in awe for a long time just watching the same pictures of a burning building, trying to convince ourselves this can really happen to our nation, our home. Finally, school let out and as I walked out of my sub-school doors on my way to the bus, my mom came running up to me. Although, I knew I was fine, she just needed to be sure that I was okay.
All of a sudden, people started rethinking what really mattered the most in their lives. I found myself trying to work through emotions that I never thought I would have to face. Did I change my whole routine in the prescence of fear and danger, or go about my day just the same? Does what I do give these people the upper hand or if act like it didn’t happen, am I dishonoring those who fought for our country in any way they could that day? I remember having a discussion with a friend, the day we were back in school, about how I felt bad laughing at a joke when all of these innocent people like myself are living a nightmare. There was a huge sense of American comorodory, but an increasingly powerful sense of vulnerability and suffering, in the atmosphere afterwards. I was proud to be patriotic, as much of the country was. For a while, mainly everyone was more caring, sympathetic and gentler to each other, because we all were in the same situation. Family time became more important and appreciating the little things that mean the most was in top priority in my life as well as many others I knew. I wanted to be closer to the people I loved the most and I wanted them to know how I felt. I felt, I had found the answer to my question. The best thing to do was appreciate how wonderful life is and all the aspects of it, in honor of those who cannot do so anymore and for those who lost people that never got to say how much they loved that person.
I had never been to New York City prior to 9/11, but Spring Break of 2002 I tok a trip with my mom and a friend. I was deeply moved by the Ground Zero memorial and felt honored to take the time to recognize the individuals who risked and lost their lives at the World Trade Center. It was hard seeing the physical objects really there next to a person’s name. These were human beings, it made that event that much more important to me and how I lived my life. Seeing everything laid out right before my eyes was really difficult. The visible picture of the magnitude of loss and pain to so many individuals and families was indescribable. I signed the American flag that was hung up around all the belongings and felt like it was the least I could do to take the time to show them and their families how important the heroes are to America, even if I am just one person.
Unfortunately, I think what has ensued as a result of this is dangerously divisive to our nation. I don’t believe the answer to violence is war and to use this sad event as a basis for an Iraq war, is only going to fuel what created such great loss. The events of 9/11 have made become a defining moment in our nation and it is the responsibility of the citizens of this nation to make something meaningful out of it, including educating ourselves and others and most importantly to never forget it.
