I remember being 12 years old in 7th grade Family Science class (it was like a mandatory Home Ec class we all had to take). We all had just come into the classroom and began to sit down when Mrs. Rhodes called for our attention. She stood in the front of our class and said "We've been attacked. The Twin Towers have been hit and one has fallen down." I stood dumbfounded like many others did that day. Mrs. Rhodes was close to tears.
Before that day the World Trade Center was a bunch of anonymous objects to me. I never thought about them. I had seen them in a movie or two and a couple TV shows. Big whoop, just a couple of real tall buildings. But then that morning happened. They didn't send us home like so many other schools did. We lived near Chicago and you would think that they might have. Seeing as how Chicago is a pretty big industrial area with all the steel mills. But they didn't
I remember going into my last class of the day. I sat next to a Muslim guy, Sabri. It didn't even occur to me to look at him suspiciously. This was my first taste of paranoia, racism and stereotyping. Another student came into the class. I sat shaking in my chair from feeling helpless and angry at what happened. That other student strode into the class and took one look at Sabri and said "Do you fucking know who did this?" Sabri looked at the asshole and said "Fuck you. Just cause I'm Muslim doesn't mean I did this or know who it was. Fuck you."
I went home after school. My mom picked me up and had the radio on. She was talking about how horrible it all was. She couldn't believe that she had seen this in her lifetime. We got home and sat in the living room until my brother and my dad got home. Me and Ethan both discussed what we should do. We settled on joining the Army and going to war. My dad is a Vietnam Vet. My mom told my dad this and all Root could say was "I don't want them to but I know where they're coming from." I sat up all night watching the footage. I must have watched the second plane strike the tower multiple times. I watched the 3rd tower fall live on TV. The next day at school was the same as the day before. Patriotism ran rampant and everyone was dumbfounded.
My brother turned 18 and wanted to enlist but my parents wouldn't let him. I don't think Ethan would've liked being a soldier. He enjoys his freedom. I love being a troop. A couple months shy of the 6 year anniversary I left for Basic Training. By that time the patriotism and unification the whole country felt was gone. People were jaded against the country. People appeared to be ashamed to be an American. Why? They didn't just attack New York, they attacked the U.S.
On the 8th anniversary I found myself getting ready to deploy. I got home just before the 9th anniversary. I deployed. I was doing what I wanted. I enlisted and deployed because of a day that shook the world. On the 10th anniversary I find myself in Germany. I find myself sitting in a barracks room typing on this. And on maybe a few peoples Facebook statuses have something written about this day. It's like 9/11/2001 is a day that everyone wants to sweep under the rug. Everyone wants to forget it. You can't though.
You can't forget it because the New York skyline will never look the same. The Pentagon has their memorial erected inside for the fallen. The Shanksville, PA memorial is being built. We've been at war for 10 years. 3000 families suffered that day. A collective heartbreak for all of them. And so many families of troops have suffered since then. God be with all of them. God be with all of us.
Being an American is nothing to be ashamed of. You should be proud of the country where you come from. But somewhere in the past 10 years, people have come to hate themselves because of where they born.
No comments:
Post a Comment