I was in first grade on September 11, 2001.
Mom picked us up from school and we sat in granny’s living room, flipping back and forth between the different news stations. Of all the details, apart from the scene of the falling towers and rubble below, I most remember how sunny and beautiful it was outside that day, and how safe I felt with my mom right there. I need to thank her for that.
Over the coming months, I remember hearing the songs that were written and the addresses shared by President Bush. I remember the images of the war, and learning some of the names and terms involved. I remember hearing about Islam for the first time. Even as an elementary school student, I picked up on this stuff. It’s wild to say that now.
And over the coming years, I’d watch – alongside you – the impact of that tragic day shape our politics, our nation, and even the world as we sought justice and rebuilding. Together we’d learn how to move forward after unspeakable destruction and loss.
It’s been twenty years, and I’m only now realizing how significant it is to have grown up in the post-9/11 era.
This era marked by tragedy and heroism, unity and division, fear and courage, is so intricately woven into our nation now. So many decisions we’ve supported or pitted against since then have been directly influenced by that grim Tuesday.
I’m sorry for the lives lost that day, both in the air and on the ground.
I’m sorry for hard decisions that had to be made, and the 20-year war that followed.
I’m sorry that had to be the first time I ever heard about Islam.
I’m sorry for the trauma that continues to affect those who were there.
I’m sorry that the memorial of it feels simultaneously like a burden that continues to weigh heavily, and like a day almost forgotten.
I’m sorry for the rise and fall of our unity in the wake of the disaster.
It’s nuanced. You don’t understand the prejudices against our Muslim neighbor, the travel bans put in place, the desire to first bombard and then leave Afghanistan without seeing it through the lens of a nation who was hurt by attack. The strain of that day has infiltrated every part of our government, affecting the way we view safety, protection, and Middle-Eastern affairs. Our lives and politics changed that day.
If I can take anything with me as a child of the post-9/11 era, it’s this: we can grow together.
I could devote my life to studying what led up to and the effects of that September day. And I’d still not fully grasp the weightiness of it or catch every nuance. I imagine you agree.
But this truth I understand: we can grow together.
We can mourn what has been lost and what will never be on this side of heaven. We can disagree about some things. But we can also walk together under a banner of unity and hope.
We can head into the dust together, looking to the light to guide us. We can choose to look past our differences, link arms and forge the way forward. We can be afraid of what could come and still walk toward it with courage. We can do that, believing it’s worth it if it means helping another human being find the light too.
Honestly. We don’t have to seek division. We can stop criticizing and beating up one another. We can stop playing this game of blaming and shaming. We can learn to put the minor things in their place, and re-learn how to work together and take care of one another. We can realize that hatred is not the way to go, and choose to instead to walk bravely in light and love.
We’re capable of that – of choosing a better legacy. The spirit that was in us to get through and past tragedy two decades ago is still woven in us today. I know because I saw it in you then, believing it would be somehow okay. I still believe that. But now I’m older, and I realize it’s my turn to live in the light and hope of growing together – just like you, the adults who got us through tragedy, did all those years ago.
We can live determined to bring hope and healing. And maybe that’s the greatest thing we can do honor the courage and vulnerability displayed on September 11, 2001.