Many people can say, "I remember exactly what I was doing when I heard the terrible news." I can't. I also can't remember the horrible things that ensued in the wake of it, but I've learned.
On September 11, 2001, I was four years old. I do not remember where I was or what I was doing when the attacks occurred. My mom was pregnant with my sister at the time, and I imagine we were all at home while my dad was at work that day. I may have been playing with my Barbie dolls, scribbling all the crayons I could fit onto one page, or eating mac and cheese. I was completely oblivious to the situation and too young to even begin to understand what it meant.
I didn't know what the twin towers were, I didn't know what terrorism was, I probably didn't even know what New York was, and I didn't know that there were so many kids around my age that died as a result. I would not have been able to comprehend any of it at the time.
Now that I have grown up in this post-9/11 America, I realize how important it is to remember each of those who lost their lives that day. However, it is also extremely important that we remember what occurred 18 years ago on this day, 9/12, and every day after that. I'll get to that point later in this post.
Almost 3,000 wives, mothers, husbands, fathers, brothers, sisters, cousins, and children were killed in the attacks 18 years ago. In just that one day. Some got the chance to call their loved ones to say goodbye and to express their love. Others did not get that luxury. I cannot imagine receiving or having to make that type of call. I cannot imagine the pain that so many family members and friends went through as they listened on the other end of the line, or as they replayed voicemails over and over just to hear the other person's voice again.
I have grown to be a very compassionate, empathetic, and sympathetic person and because of this, I cry very easily. Although I do not know anyone who passed away in these tragic incidents, I cry just thinking about how much they all meant to their families.
I grieve for those I don't know because they left this world too soon.
I cry for all the mothers and fathers who would never be able to kiss their children or each other goodnight again.
I cry for all the children who would never be kissed goodnight again and who would never be able to attend middle school, high school, or college.
I cry for the two year olds as well as the 85 year olds.
I cry for all the first responders who risked their own lives to help search for survivors in all the debris.
I cry for all the first responders who lost their lives in the subsequent collapses of the towers.
I cry for survivors that are dealing with PTSD (or PTSS), and various forms of cancer due to the large amount of carcinogenic toxins that were released into the air.
I cry for all the lost artwork and the destroyed 1993 World Trade Center bombing memorial.
I cry for those who will never have closure.
I didn't know what the twin towers were, I didn't know what terrorism was, I probably didn't even know what New York was, and I didn't know that there were so many kids around my age that died as a result. I would not have been able to comprehend any of it at the time.
Now that I have grown up in this post-9/11 America, I realize how important it is to remember each of those who lost their lives that day. However, it is also extremely important that we remember what occurred 18 years ago on this day, 9/12, and every day after that. I'll get to that point later in this post.
Almost 3,000 wives, mothers, husbands, fathers, brothers, sisters, cousins, and children were killed in the attacks 18 years ago. In just that one day. Some got the chance to call their loved ones to say goodbye and to express their love. Others did not get that luxury. I cannot imagine receiving or having to make that type of call. I cannot imagine the pain that so many family members and friends went through as they listened on the other end of the line, or as they replayed voicemails over and over just to hear the other person's voice again.
I have grown to be a very compassionate, empathetic, and sympathetic person and because of this, I cry very easily. Although I do not know anyone who passed away in these tragic incidents, I cry just thinking about how much they all meant to their families.
I grieve for those I don't know because they left this world too soon.
I cry for all the mothers and fathers who would never be able to kiss their children or each other goodnight again.
I cry for all the children who would never be kissed goodnight again and who would never be able to attend middle school, high school, or college.
I cry for the two year olds as well as the 85 year olds.
I cry for all the first responders who risked their own lives to help search for survivors in all the debris.
I cry for all the first responders who lost their lives in the subsequent collapses of the towers.
I cry for survivors that are dealing with PTSD (or PTSS), and various forms of cancer due to the large amount of carcinogenic toxins that were released into the air.
I cry for all the lost artwork and the destroyed 1993 World Trade Center bombing memorial.
I cry for those who will never have closure.
Photograph from Newsday.
I cry for all of these innocent people. I respect them and their bravery. I remember and honor their courageous sacrifices. However, I also cry about what transpired the day after and every day since - also to innocent people.
As a white, middle class American, I constantly have to check my privilege. While I was sitting at home playing with my toys on 9/11, innocent people were dying. While I was happily playing with my toys again on 9/12, innocent people were afraid to leave their homes for the fear that they would be accused of perpetrating more violence. After 9/11, the word "Muslim" became wrongly associated with terrorism. Hate crimes and assaults against South Asians, Middle Easterners, and anyone who was "Middle-Eastern-looking" rose exponentially.
If we can put ourselves in the shoes of those who selflessly gave their lives, why can't we put ourselves in the shoes of those who had to deal with the backlash of looking to be "of Muslim descent?" Why is it so easy for white Americans to equate having brown skin or having a head covering with being a terrorist? If we as white Americans can separate ourselves from the violence of the KKK or other white supremacists and realize that they are not at all like us, why can't we separate the small number of Islamic extremists from the majority of Muslims? Since 9/11, more Americans have died or have been injured as a result of domestic terrorism than those that have been affected by international terrorist acts.
Below are some stories I found on Twitter under the hashtag,
#afterseptember11:
- "I grew up without a mom because someone with a gun decided that she needed to answer for [the attack] with her life"
- "on sep 13, my dad stopped wearing a turban, cut his hair, & shaved his beard bc he was assaulted at work by a white man"
- "my parents genuinely asked my brother if he wanted to change his name bc it's Osama. He was 9"
- "a classmate asked if I was a terrorist. I had been raised a proud American all my life and for the first time I was forced to acknowledge that I was different because of the color of my skin. I was in second grade."
- "my husband took his real first name and the fact that he speaks Arabic off his resume"
- "My mother was harassed in a grocery store parking lot while wearing a hijab. With her, she had her 2 toddlers and infant...She ran to her car as fast as she could. She always tells me she never felt so helpless and scared in her whole life"
- "I learned that the American flag could be weaponized, even into something as seemingly innocuous as a bumper sticker placed on my Iranian mother's car by a racist neighbor"
- "I was 12 that day and started to make sure it was very clear that I was Puerto Rican and Black. Because too many classmates would tell me I 'looked Muslim' or 'looked like a a-rab" or even the parent of the boy I like said 'you ain't one of those a-rabs right?'"
- "I had a teacher tell my class that if he were president he would 'bomb that whole part of the world off the map.'"
- "my parents are Indian but were also confronted because of their skin color"
- "my mother was harassed by a group of young guys, who pushed her around, hit her and ripped off her niqab all while cursing her out. 'Terrorist' 'Sand-n*gger' - all in broad daylight, nobody helped"
- "my friend in 4th grade decided to unfriend me because I 'belonged to people who did 911'"
I have to ask: where is the backlash at white men after all of these recent mass shootings? Just as we do not align ourselves with the several white men who carry out domestic terrorism, we cannot judge all Muslims based on the actions of a few.
On September 11, thousands of Americans lost their loved ones. The day after, thousands more Americans lost their identities, their privacy, their sense of safety, their freedom to be who they were. Or rather, these things were not "lost," but taken from them. They didn't deserve this any more than the children, women, and men who died in the towers, the high-jacked planes, or in the Pentagon deserved to lose their lives.
I didn't want to post this yesterday for obvious reasons. I would never want to diminish what happened, or to set aside the fact that so many brave men and women risked their own lives to help others. The survivors and first responders of the 9/11 attacks deserve all of the government compensation and healthcare that they can receive.
You may say "we were ALL Americans that day," but what do you really mean by it? There were certainly a large number of people who did not feel this same sentiment while they had their turbans (which are a common Sikh head covering, by the way, not Muslim) or other head coverings ripped off of their heads, while they were spit on, while they were told they should be shot, while their children were bullied at school for having brown skin or "Muslim-sounding" names.
As you "never forget" the horrific events that transpired on September 11, 2001, I hope you also never forget that they did not completely unify all of us, as many Americans seem to believe. A percentage of Americans still endure racism and prejudice based on the color of their skin or the covering on their heads (or bodies) due to the widespread misinformation regarding Islam and terrorism.
Remember those who lost their family members on 9/11. Remember, too, those who were attacked on 9/12 for something they had no connection to. Remember that it is still an issue.
I urge you to recognize the hate, religious intolerance, Islamophobia, and xenophobia that still runs rampant in this country. And I urge you to denounce it and fight against it.
We can't unlearn the hurt, but we can unlearn the hate.