Don’t know if this is going to be a nuisance post, or if I’m going to be in violation of some FR rule, but I wanted to share the thoughts I penned this morning that I will be sharing with my students this day of remembrance. Sorry for its length.
You are too young. You weren’t born yet. So, how could you know? It didn’t happen here. It happened some place far enough away, far different from here, so why should you care? Why would you care? It involved strangers; people you never met, nor will ever meet. So, what difference does it make? What difference could it make? You weren’t there. You didn’t see it (except maybe a few brief pictures or videos). It didn’t affect you. What’s the big deal?
Well, I’ll tell you. That day... When it happened...When those planes struck the towers on that absolutely beautiful crystal-blue-sky day...we were all there. Every one of us. All of America. Black, White, Yellow, Red, Brown. Northerner, Southerner, Easterner, Westerner, Mid-Westerner. Men, Women, Children. Gay, Straight, Trans. It happened to us all. We all felt it. We all saw it. We all lived it. We were all one. Nothing else mattered. Nothing. For days and weeks and maybe even months, it was all we talked about. Night after night we all saw the piles of rubble that used to be buildings, smoldering, rescue workers sifting through for survivors...then remains. Day after day we saw funerals as one firefighter after another after a cop after another cop was laid in a casket, the casket was laid atop a firetruck, then a flag was laid on the lap of a widow with young children dressed in part of their fallen daddy’s uniform on and then a hero was laid to rest. Story after story on our evening news of someone who “didn’t make it out” or “who somehow survived.” We all saw it. Night after night. For months. We all cried. It affected us all.
But why does it matter? What’s it to you, a teenager born after September 11, 2001? Get over it, you say. I will never get over it. I was there. I worked right across the river from the World Trade Center. My co-workers and I watched from our window as the North Tower burned, saw little “pieces” falling down from off the building (we later learned those “pieces” included men and women jumping to their deaths. Crashing into pavement 100 stories below was preferable to burning to death in a 1500 degree fire). We watched from our window as the second plane flew right past our building (just south about 8-10 blocks or so away - but so close, so huge, so...unreal). We watched it creep across the river and then...IMPACT!...the South Tower erupting into a fireball. Immediately, we were horrified, terrified...then...we were Americans. Black, White, Yellow, Red, Brown. I worked with them all. Gay, Straight, Trans. They were with me in our building. Men, Women. These were my co-workers. We exited our building together (walking down 16 flights - the walk was exhausting. What must it have been to be a firefighter going up 70 flights of stairs in the World Trade Center that day—carrying 70 lbs. of equipment?). When we reached the street, we were joined by many more just like us. Hundreds, maybe thousands, from all the other office buildings around the area. We all stared across the river. Watched the Two Towers burn and smolder, like two huge cigarettes standing up pointing into the sky. We all stood together. Those buildings weren’t attacked because of the individuals that were in them. They were attacked because Americans were in them. Those of us watching were looking on as our neighbors were attacked, were killed. Died. They were us. We were them. We weren’t in those buildings, but we were there. Every American was there. We all felt the same that day. Nothing...NOTHING separated us.
In a strange way, looking back, it was so powerful a feeling, to be so much a part of something with everyone else. We all went through the same range of emotion. At first, no one tried to skew what happened (sadly, that would happen too shortly after). It wasn’t a Black or a White or a Yellow or a Red or a Brown or a Man or a Woman or a Straight or a Gay or a Northern or a Southern or an Eastern or a Western or a Democrat or a Republican thing. It was an American thing. And maybe that’s why we should remember it. Too often, when we are looking at the things that separate us, what gets lost are the ties that bind us together. They become impossible to see. Some like to speculate that diversity is our greatest strength. The more variety that we have among ourselves, the more divergent thought, the more differing points of view we hold, the better, stronger, greater we are. Diversity is good. Diversity has its place. But it is not what makes us our strongest. Diversity actually serves to divide us. It separates us into categories of this group and that. Diversity is fine, in terms of enriching our experience, but it is not what truly binds us together. How can it. It magnifies our differences from one another. No, what makes us our strongest, what makes us our best is what we have in common; what unites us. The minute we start talking about “We” and “They”, we are dividing. The minute we start talking about Black or White or Yellow or Red or Brown, we are dividing, separating ourselves. There was none of that on 9/11. None. Not one word. Not one mention. We were united by a terrible event. It took tragedy to bring us together. Sadly, it didn’t last long. We started going back to those old labels, those old categories (maybe we’re just used to that; we feel more comfortable, more safe that way). We went back to what doesn’t work best to unite us. Categories. Labels. Differences. Now, after 19 years, we can hardly recognize what unites us anymore, or we choose to deny that those things ever had that effect. We’ve become sad, and angry, and outraged, and oblivious. We need to remember 9/11, if, for no other reason than on that day, while we were under attack, while we were standing/staring fearfully, in disbelief at two buildings burning, then mourning and grieving for the lost, then trying to pick up the pieces of our lives, on that one day, in that one single moment...we were together, Americans, One. And we mustn’t ever forget that being united, being one. being like-minded, and focusing on what makes us so, will always be the true ties that bind us together. We must try to remember that, maybe now more than ever.
That was very nice.
I wish more could read that other than just your students and us Freepers..
I was at a refinery just south of the Twin Cities when this happened. The engineering contingent I was part of went into a lockdown mode in a positive pressurized area of the building, then sent home. I was staying at an Extended Stay America since I had just started the job up there. We went back to work the following day, to find National Guard HMMVV’s with machine guns at the gate. The refinery was considered the #4 potential target in Minnesota, the first two being the nuclear power plants, the third the Marathon refinery across the river, and Mall of America being #5.
Then something made me sick. Lefties in Minneapolis were cheering the collapse of the World Trade Center.