Growing up in the 80’s and 90’s, I frequently remember getting a homework assignment every year asking my parents and grandparents where they were when JFK was shot. That, of course, was an event in United States history that would be engraved into our elders’ memories for the rest of their days, as such a horrific event had not occurred since the 1860’s when Lincoln was shot. I never understood why in fact my teachers would give me that assignment - “just why would they want to remember that? And who really remembers a brief moment in time more than 30 years ago?”
I understand now.
Because for the rest of my life, I have a feeling I will hear the following question from students, my future children, my future grandchildren:
Where were you on September 11, 2001?
Going even deeper than that — just who was I on September 11, 2001? How has my life changed? How has my country changed? And globally, how has our world changed?
As cliché as it sounds, I can remember it just like it was yesterday.
I was a freshman in high school, getting accustomed to a lot of new changes. I had just gone from attending a school of 400 to a school of 4,000. I had picked up a new sport — swimming — and was trying to survive my two-a-day practices five days a week. I was goofy. I had known my best friend for 11 years, a best friend I still have today. I had unknowingly met the Husband a year before at church, a memory that I just can’t seem to remember despite the fact I know it happened.
The events of 9/11 started out just like any other day. Well, in fact, that is a lie. The day was out of the ordinary from the start. I was enjoying my first morning sleeping in late for the first time in over a month. Since it was the second Tuesday of the month, my high school had a delayed start so teachers could do staff development for the 90 minutes we were not there. My swim coach cancelled practice for that morning, as she did not want to be responsible for the behavior of 40+ high school girls when she was in meetings all morning. I gladly took the chance to sleep a little bit later.
On days like these, my mom would drive my sister and I to school. One memory I have of my childhood home on days when we were getting ready for school is that Good Morning America would be playing in the family room so my mom could catch up on the morning’s news. I was early getting ready to leave (pretty typical in those days), and my mom and I were waiting for my sister to finish getting ready (still pretty typical). I was sitting on the couch, backpack in hand, watching the news with my mom. It was about 8:50 at that point, and we did not have to leave until about 9:00. On the TV, I started hearing reports about the speculation that one of the World Trader Center towers had been hit by what looked like a plane, and almost immediately the news footage switched over to the live events in the Financial district.
Horrified, I had no idea what had happened — our first thoughts was that the pilot had done something wrong or the plane had malfunctioned in flight. Even more terrified, my mom and I watched as the second plane hit the second twin tower.
At that moment, we had to leave for school. And to be perfectly honest with you, the moments that follow that event is all a blur. Going through the motions at school that day, coming home and having there be no television shows on any of the big networks (including MTV) — only footage of what was happening in New York City at the time. For days this continued. There was a constant reminder everywhere we went that something terrible and horrific had happened to our country.
One thing I have realized in the past few days, is that while I will never forget what happened that day — will I always remember? On that day over 3,000 heroes were killed in a tragic event that began to shape the future of the USA and of the world. Even more than that were the thousands of heroes who helped save others’ lives. Each of them has a story. Each of them has a voice. And I am sure their memories are far more engrained into their memories than mine was.
As a teacher, there are conflicting views on what to tell students. Some parents do not want their children to know about the events, while others really want their children to be educated on just what happened that day. Children are curious beings — and try as we may, they can’t always be shielded from history. Yes, they can be taught in an age appropriate way, but I would never want this country to forget what happened that day. And the future of this country is in the little lives that were toddlers, babies, and even children who were not born yet. It is amazing to me that my group of children I am teaching right now will be the last group of kids that were even alive when the events of 9/11 occurred.
So today, tomorrow, and all the days after it — don’t forget. Always remember. Take time out of your day to remember the lives that were lost that day. Take time to think about just how the world has changed since 9/11/01. Take time to thank the first responders in your community.
And when your future children and grandchildren ask you just where you were that day — tell them. All of it. And explain to them just why that particular question is so important for them to ask each and every year of their life.
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