nmah3001.xml

nmah3001.xml

born-digital

story

yes

no

2002-09-10

I was sitting in my second period French class, trying to get some much needed sleep, when I found out what had happened. The intercom crackled as the principal cleared his throat and informed us, in his usually serious manner, that a plane had struck one of the buildings of the World Trade Center. My classmates, who were usually quite indifferent to these random announcements, appeared alert, as if someone had dropped a heavy book on the floor causing a loud pop. Let us now say a prayer together for those men and women who were on the plane and those still inside the tower, the principal continued, conscious that he had just seized the attention of every boy in school. In my gut, I felt a sort of emptiness unlike any I had felt before, mixed with a an acute sense of excitement, as if it none of it were real, merely an incredible movie. Class returned to the study of French, but I sat there wondering, thinking about what the scene in New York must be like at that moment.
At lunch, the topic off conversation remained on the events that were unfolding at the WTC, with kids passing around printouts of the latest information acquired form CNN.com. The ambiance thickened with intensity as each person at my lunch table gave their theories as to what had occurred. We were like detectives attempting to solve a great mystery, unaware of the wide scope this attack encompassed, but nonetheless thinking ahead to the ramifications this would lead to. And then I saw the fallen towers on T.V.
The World Trade Center, a symbol of economic prosperity and capitalism, twin buildings of glass and steel that stood above all others in the city, had been reduced to a smoking rubble. At that moment nothing else mattered. My fellow students and I sat in the government class, silent, waiting for a resolution, an answer to how this came to be. It did not come that day.

It is now a year since that day. There has been time to reflect and time to react. I look back to that day as a morose one, because our untouchable world, the one within the confines of the United States borders, had been breached in a most egregious way. There was no longer a sense of invincibility from the rest of the world as there had been before the attacks. All it took was a group of common men to bring this nation to its knees.
My life has not changed because of September 11th. My daily routines remain as they always were, and I find myself forgetting about that unforgettable day twelve months ago. Although my physical life has remained intact, that is not to say my worldview is unaltered. For now I try to examine American society through the eyes of foreigners, searching for what they see in us that is so odious, so awful, that they would kill us. This is no longer about the good guys versus the bad guys; it is about Americans coming to the realization that it is not all about them. As Americans, we forget that millions around the globe go to sleep hungry, shivering from the cold, or dying in deplorable conditions. No tears are shed for the faceless masses of the third world, but for the dead Americans of
9-11, whom 99% of us didnt even know, the Hudson River is over flooded with tears. This is wrong. Before being Americans, we are bound as brothers of the human race.

September 11th will forever be etched in the minds of Americans who witnessed it. One must remember that is was a day where people died, ordinary men and women. and that it could have been anyone of us.