September 11, 2011

On September 11, 2001, I was a senior in high school. My mom came into my room and woke me, and said that a plane had crashed into the Pentagon, and she was pointing toward the living room, crying. Nothing made sense to me because I was half asleep at the time. I got up and started watching the news. Before this I had never heard of the Twin Towers. I watched in disbelief, it was surreal. My parents and I sat there, glued to the television and silent. I remember watching the chaos unfold on the news, and when the buildings collapsed I looked at my dad and he just shook his head with a look of defeat, not saying anything. We didn't know what to do . . . go on with our normal day? I went to school, not knowing if other people were going to go or stay home. I only remember my first class that day; we didn't do anything but watch the news.

In the days following the attacks there seemed to be a real solidarity that I had never felt before, and haven't felt since. People felt and understood that our country was in crisis, that the future was unknown, and that we were in this together. It's like I could look at a stranger and we would offer looks of comfort to each other, and we had some common ground. There were candlelight vigils, moments of silence, and endless fundraising efforts. And sadness, a lot of sadness.

We need to remember that we are privileged to live in a country where attacks like this do not happen on a regular basis. There are many people, including children, around the world who live among continuous violence and death.

I hope that all the victims' families and survivors are able to find a sense of peace.

And I hope that the next generation doesn't experience an event like this.