9.11.11

Today has been a day of remembrance for many Americans. Many people have posted or spoken about what 9.11 means to them. I have generally avoided doing this, because even 10 years later, I remain confused by my memories and my reactions.

10 years ago today, I was in college. I didn't have class that morning, for whatever reason. I woke up, brushed my teeth, started getting ready, and turned on the TV. I remember thinking that I hadn't been watching CNN the night before, but maybe I'd turned for some reason -- since what I was seeing was very obviously news. I saw two buildings I didn't recognize with big billows of smoke on the screen. I don't remember reading the tag at the bottom. Frankly, I doubt I paid it much attention as I was getting dressed to go to my work-study job at the library. When I got to the library, my supervisor expressed all kinds of surprise that I showed up to work. It was THEN that I found out that the big buildings with the billows of smoke had been hit by a plane, and were two high rises in New York. My first thought? I wondered what went wrong with the plane.

As days passed, I remember the outpouring of support and the reaction of the nation. I remember feeling like it was an overreaction. Not because the victims and their families didn't deserve every bit of financial and emotional support...But because I was in the middle of Iowa, and I thought it odd that the shops and malls were closing. While I believe that crime happens anywhere and everywhere, I was still finding it difficult to believe that "attacks" or "terrorism"* could ever happen in Iowa.

Ultimately, I never did find a way to truly wrap my head around what happened. I didn't have a specific patriotic pull, because I felt so far removed from the situation. Despite being a short plane ride away, NYC was SO far...like another planet. I was so blessed not to have any family, friends, cousins, distant relatives, random acquaintances...no one I knew was in either of the places where there was an errant plane. I felt for the victims and their families in the way you feel for anyone who suffered from a tragedy -- man-made or otherwise. But it was (is) so hard to believe that it happened here.

Like any other American, I won't forget what happened that day. I pray for peace for those whose private memories are made public because of the tragically large community of people who share your pain.

But I will also let 9.11 serve as a reminder of just how blessed I have been. By the grace of God, my friends and family were spared from this particular tragedy. I praise Him for building a hedge, and I thank Him for all of them (y'all).

And by the way? I pray for those whose culture, race, and faith have forced you to become intimately familiar with the ignorance of some Americans. Those who fall into a minority category (of any kind) feel your pain. I can only hope that someday the great American spirit to whom much credit is given for being welcoming and open and diverse, will truly become welcoming, open, and diverse. Until then, stand strong, and continue to take opportunities to educate those who just don't get it.


*words which, at the time, felt odd in my mouth in connection with the US. They were things that happened elsewhere.