![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Can it really have been eleven years already? It is hard to fathom how much life has changed since that beautiful late summer day turned into a living nightmare. Clearly, the terrorist attacks of that day changed the course of history, not just for the United States, but for the entire world. But it becomes easier for me to grasp how much time has passed when I look at my own life.
On that day, my younger daughter was just over 6 months old, and as I watched the news coverage, I worried about what the future might hold for her and her sister. Little did we know that she would not live to see the ninth anniversary of the attacks.
On that day, I was less than three years removed from my active involvement with the emergency services community, so the loss of so many brave responders when the World Trade Center towers collapsed hit me with an almost physical force. These were men and women that I considered to be brothers and sisters, linked by our commitment to helping others in their time of need.
On that day, my experiences and horizons were largely limited to one perspective, somewhat provincial in scope, formed by a life lived almost exclusively inside the borders of my home country. In the years since the attack, I have come to value a broader perspective. I’ve found and embraced friends from around the world. I have crossed oceans to visit places that I had only read about. It has broadened my understanding of my place in the world.
On that day, I struggled to understand why someone would lash out in such anger and hatred, willingly giving their lives to attack anonymous strangers on a massive scale. I continue to struggle with these questions, but I’ve come to understand that the answers are not simple, and that, far from helping, many of our responses have made things worse. I find myself disappointed by the some of the ways we have chosen to respond to the attacks. Those things that I was most proud of in the immediate aftermath, such as the outpouring of compassion in the following weeks, have proven fleeting.
There will be memorial services today, and the media will reflect on the events of eleven years ago, and there is nothing wrong with any of that. But I wonder if it is enough. Shouldn’t this anniversary spur us to reflection on how we’ve responded? Wouldn’t a meaningful attempt to build bridges to peace be a more fitting tribute to the memories of those who died that day? I feel like there has been a deep unwillingness to engage in much critical self-reflection as we struggled to respond. We should never forget those who were killed that day, but they deserve more than that. Our actions should reflect honor upon their memories, leaving the world a better place for everyone.
On that day, my younger daughter was just over 6 months old, and as I watched the news coverage, I worried about what the future might hold for her and her sister. Little did we know that she would not live to see the ninth anniversary of the attacks.
On that day, I was less than three years removed from my active involvement with the emergency services community, so the loss of so many brave responders when the World Trade Center towers collapsed hit me with an almost physical force. These were men and women that I considered to be brothers and sisters, linked by our commitment to helping others in their time of need.
On that day, my experiences and horizons were largely limited to one perspective, somewhat provincial in scope, formed by a life lived almost exclusively inside the borders of my home country. In the years since the attack, I have come to value a broader perspective. I’ve found and embraced friends from around the world. I have crossed oceans to visit places that I had only read about. It has broadened my understanding of my place in the world.
On that day, I struggled to understand why someone would lash out in such anger and hatred, willingly giving their lives to attack anonymous strangers on a massive scale. I continue to struggle with these questions, but I’ve come to understand that the answers are not simple, and that, far from helping, many of our responses have made things worse. I find myself disappointed by the some of the ways we have chosen to respond to the attacks. Those things that I was most proud of in the immediate aftermath, such as the outpouring of compassion in the following weeks, have proven fleeting.
There will be memorial services today, and the media will reflect on the events of eleven years ago, and there is nothing wrong with any of that. But I wonder if it is enough. Shouldn’t this anniversary spur us to reflection on how we’ve responded? Wouldn’t a meaningful attempt to build bridges to peace be a more fitting tribute to the memories of those who died that day? I feel like there has been a deep unwillingness to engage in much critical self-reflection as we struggled to respond. We should never forget those who were killed that day, but they deserve more than that. Our actions should reflect honor upon their memories, leaving the world a better place for everyone.
Tags:
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2012-09-11 05:34 pm (UTC)We can't see the future. The terrorists more than anybody. And now we live in a world where religious wars continue on, grimly supported by the fundamentalists from both sides seizing on the worst excesses of the other to justify yet more atrocities.
Just like the past. We can't see that either, not clearly enough to avoid repeating it.
I wonder - futilely, I know - where another decade will take us. I'm getting to the age where I'm starting to lose contemporaries as a matter of course, rather than accident. I might not be around in ten years, and I know for sure that many of my friends and family won't make it.
But that doesn't bother me as much as it used to. It's just the way life is, and I can get all bent out of shape over it, or I can accept it and know that I must enjoy life as it happens, because one day all those endless years ahead of me won't be there. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe today.
So I enjoy every moment I can.
And the best parts are other people. My favorite people aren't the warriors or the popular leaders stirring up the people into a frenzy. It's the firefighters and the medics and the nurses who hold out their plate for the world to dump stuff on it. And ask for more.
It's the people who hold out their arms to give comfort to strangers, not thrust them away.
People like MaryZee.
I'm not a religious person, but if I'm headed for the same place she's gone, it can't be too bad.
Until, I'll try to enjoy the sunny days - and the grey ones - and to smile as much as I can, and to work on being more like the people I admire most.
Thanks for the thoughtful words, Andy. Now, go and give someone a hug, will ya?
(no subject)
Date: 2012-09-12 02:28 am (UTC)Well said, Andy. Very well said.