I was just 10 years old when our nation was attacked. I had just entered the 5th grade and finally excited to be in the "upper" wing of my small parochial school. I, along with my friends and fellow classmates, sat in the classroom ready to open up our text books and work. Then, my school principal got on the loud speaker and asked that all faculty report to her office immediately. Shortly after this, my 5th grade teacher walked into the room, closed the door and had said there was an accident in New York City, an airplane plane had struck the North Tower at the WTC. At the time of her announcement, only the first plane had hit.
At first, being the naive 10 year old I was back then, I thought to myself that it was just a terrible plane accident. Surely the pilot passed out or feel asleep, a fatal mistake. Then, we were told that the second tower was struck by another plane and then I knew something was not right. I believe all of the children in that classroom had this same inkling. I also recall a feeling of disappointment. Prior to the attacks, my family had booked a vacation to Disney World, my first trip there. My father told me that when we were on the plane, he would show me the whole city skyline. More specifically, the World Trade Center. He was going to point out the buildings from above, and explain how valuable and important they were to not only our country, but our world. Well, instead of seeing those magnificent towers while ascending from La Guardia, I only saw a large square with debris and chaos. The 8th graders were allowed to put the television on and watch the towers burn before their eyes, but because of our tender age, my teacher opted to spare our impressionable minds for the time being. School resumed until the end of the day. Some parents called in and picked their children up. I recall my close friend becoming very worried because both of her parents worked in the Bronx, as well as another classmate whose father worked as a firefighter and was called on the scene.
Like any other day, I rode the bus home with my younger sister. My father was working in Newburgh at the time, my mother at Wal-Mart. For the first time in Wal-Mart's corporate history, it shut down for the day due to the terrorist attacks. This super store does not even close its doors on Christmas, so I knew this was bad, really bad. My parents and older brother, who had come back from Marist college to stay with us, were explaining to me what had happened as I sat, glued in front of the TV watching the planes hit the towers over and over again. I watched in horror as little specks were shown flying out of the 100th floor windows, these 'specks' someone's father, mother, child, son, daughter, and so on. Victims had no choice in the matter of life or death, deciding whether to burn or fall to their deaths. I stared at the running people and thick clouds of smoke swallowing the panicked souls. I was nervous for my aunts, uncles, and grandparents who lived closest to the city. The phone was constantly ringing off the hook, and cell phone lines were so busy that it was nearly impossible to reach anyone. I kept watching the news until I forced myself to go to sleep and when I laid in my bed, the images kept running through my mind, haunting me. I half expected a plane to crash through my bedroom window and when I imagined it, I started shaking.
Like many children during this horrific time, I suffered psychologically and emotionally from these gruesome attacks. It is no surprise that a mass murder and such a dramatic scene which occurred so close to home would leave a lasting impression on a young person. Any time a plane flew overhead, I would tense up. If I was walking down a flight of stairs in a tall building, I feared an attack would occur in which I would be killed or seriously maimed. I cried looking at pictures of the debris, body parts of the deceased, and those left alive but completely broken on the inside. To this day, I am still haunted by the events of 9/11 and I will never forget the trauma and pain it caused our country.
For awhile, I felt some anger; anger at those who participated in this heinous act, anger toward the Muslim group of people, and even anger toward our president and government. I blamed our government the most because they were warned about the attacks and did nothing about them. I hated Bush and his administration even more so than I did before 9/11. Needless to say, we as a nation and community were hurt, and the grieving process always includes anger. We need someone or a group of peoples to blame for something which is beyond all of our control. It will not come as a surprise to you all then that each time I saw a man walking in the streets or in a public facility with a turban on, I became anxious. I was just a kid and for the next 5-7 years of my youth, this is the impression left in my undeveloped mind: Bad guys attacked us, these bad guys just so happened to be Islamic extremists. Was I prejudiced or hateful of the Muslim people? No. Did I question their motives? Yes I did. I, like many Americans who lived that day to see all of our people,( black, white, Hispanic, Jewish, Christian, Asian, and yes even some Muslims) perish, can admit that our trust in the peoples from this religious group was not at its highest.
As years went on and I got older and became more educated, I came to a realization. My attitudes toward 9/11 had changed. These terrorists were religious extremists, just like the Christian Spanish Conquistadors, or like those who blow up abortion clinics in the name of Christ. They have nothing to do with the religious faith they contort and what it really has to offer. I began to think that if a Christian had attacked the WTC and Pentagon, how awful and ashamed I would feel. I came to witness that many Muslim peoples felt just that way. And during the days after 9/11, they were treated with just as much hate as the extremists have for us. One other startling fact came to mind, these people of the Muslim faith are Americans too and not only did they suffer a loss of friends, family and fellow citizens, they suffered a drastic loss of the public's knowledge of what it really means to be a Muslim. Even today, people of the Islamic faith are still judged, ostracized and are victims of hate crimes. You must also realize, and this is something nobody wants to hear or speak of, that those terrorists of 9/11 and those of present times, are victims as well. They were just young men who, because of lack of education, finances, and work, fell into a group at very young ages, and were brain washed and taught to hate. (This process may begin as early as 5 years old!) They drove those planes into our nation's buildings with the belief that they were doing what was right and a reward awaited them at the end. Oh, and they were killed that day too. This does not by any means excuse them for this disgusting show they put on to kill and frighten us. But this is merely an insight from the other side.
Ten years after this horrific day that changed my life and my generation forever, and the wound is still raw. There has been ten years of on going war in the mid-east, loss of our young men and women in the service, thousands of citizen deaths in these oppressed and suffering countries, trillions of dollars accumulated in our national debt, increased violence and hate around the world, loss of the fallen heroes, firefighters, EMT's and police officers, fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, daughters, and sons in the WTC, Pentagon, and the field out in Pennsylvania. And as we reflect on this dark day, let us not only reflect and remember our troops, the fallen heroes of 9/11, and those we lost in the planes and buildings, but also on peace. Let us not forget that yes, a number of people hate us in this world but we must not return that hate. If we throw back hate toward the terrorist groups and even aiming this same hatred at the Muslim faith itself, are we no better than those who attacked us those ten years ago?
Hate is corrosive. Hate builds up until it explodes, destroys, and kills. Let us unite not as Christians, nor Muslims, nor African Americans, nor whites, but as one group: as Americans, as human beings. We were all attacked on 9/11 and are still targeted each day. This world has become scarier and less stable since the tragedies which took place 10 years ago from this date, a tragedy which our children and our children's children will read and learn about in history books. But if I could teach the next generation anything about this event and leave you all with something it is this: When you see a person or group being bullied or targeted, stand up because we are not terrorists. Terrorism comes in many shapes and forms, but we are not them. Bin Laden and his followers may have taken lives from us, broke apart families, caused a war, and shook the world as we see it, but we will not and have not let them take away our genuine, American spirit. The spirit of equality, compassion, strength and intellect. After all, each and every one of us are residing in this land today because or relatives escaped unjust and oppressed nations to live in peace and have freedoms. We will not let the enemy take that away from us. I believe the fallen victims and heroes of 9/11/2001 would want the same for us living today. We are the survivors and witnesses, now it is up to us to stand together and see this through. God bless you everyone and God bless America!
