 Who are you? It's a simple question, really. But the answer to many does not come with ease. How does one even answer that question? On this anniversary of the 9/11 attacks, perhaps the answer eight years ago would have been simpler if you were in New York. I am an American. I am a New Yorker. I am free. I was in New York in July this year. One of the things I wanted to do was visit ground zero, not least because I haven't seen it in person before. People who visited the site usually told me that it's not worth visiting. It's just a big empty space. Lots of cranes, they said. And if you view the site yourself, you'll probably agree. But I felt that I needed to see it, so I did that. In composing today's blog post, I came across one blogger named Anil Dash who has documented his feelings about the event every year on the anniversary of the attacks. On the day of the attacks, he was thankful for friends and family who inquired about him (he was in New York City). On the second anniversary of the attacks, Anil thought about what it means to be an American: And in those first weeks, I thought a lot about what it is to be American. That a lot of people outside of New York City might not even recognize their own country if they came to visit. The America that was attacked a year ago was an America where people are as likely to have been born outside the borders of the U.S. as not. Where most of the residents speak another language in addition to English. Where the soundtrack is, yes, jazz and blues and rock and roll, but also hip hop and salsa and merengue. New York has always been where the first fine threads of new cultures work their way into the fabric of America, and the city the bore the brunt of those attacks last September reflected that ideal to its fullest.New York is a hodgepodge of different people and cultures. Perhaps this is why the attacks in New York make it an American tragedy, as Anil writes: It was no accident that the primary target, the location deemed most threatening and offensive to those who would resent American culture, is the place where we embrace the widest variety of people. Where what it is to be American is at its most inclusive, and it becomes clear that American is not something that one does, but rather something that one is. Among those lost in the collapse of the Twin Towers were citizens of at least 42 countries. To have lost people from so many countries around the world is part of what makes those events a particularly American tragedy.What do you envision when you see the site of ground zero? Is it the Twin Towers falling down? The nearly three thousand of lives lost? I am sure the answer is different for all of us. Anil offers his thoughts on the second anniversary of the attacks: At least not today. Maybe it's because I finally went by the site for the first time a few weeks ago, the first time I was able to. And I didn't think at all of 19 men. I thought of almost 3000 men, women, and children. And so, just sadness.Most of the people around ground zero who stopped to check out their surroundings were tourists, like me. Most had cameras with them and took some pictures, like me. Where we came from, what we did for a living, and where we were going didn't really matter so much as the moment we were in, observing and reflecting. Did I fully grasp at what I was looking? I want to say yes, but the more honest answer is probably not. I wasn't in New York when the attacks occurred: I observed the horrors of the day through the media. Anil offers his thoughts about tourists at ground zero: There were the tourists there, but maybe some of them needed to see that giant, almost sterile, construction site and to understand. Yes, they don't understand what they're looking at, and most of them probably never even saw the towers when they existed, but I can't judge any more if they're justified in being there. I wanted to be bitter that they didn't understand what it meant for me to smell that smell. But I'm trying to remember that it's not my place to judge how others grieve, that I can't dictate how they feel or that they should feel the way I do.This is a thought which always stirs me: if I am not there to experience something, how can I truly understand? Is it even possible? I didn't smell the smoke, did not see the fires, did not witness the events with my own eyes...After Hurricane Katrina hit in 2005, I told others that they cannot possibly fathom on the events occurring in New Orleans as they aren't there (I could only imagine what people were going through). On the fourth anniversary of the attacks, Anil writes this profound paragraph: The biggest difference in remembering September 11th for me in 2005 is that I finally understand, at least a little bit, what it was like for people who weren't in New York. For a long time, for years, I carried around a lot of resentment towards people who weren't in New York City during the attacks but felt as if they understood. I'd rant, to myself or others, that they'd just seen it on television, or read about it in the papers, but that they couldn't possibly understand what it was like to be there.As it turned out, I was right about that. They didn't know, and couldn't know. But what's clear to me now, especially with the perspective of seeing the response to Hurricane Katrina, is that they still cared. And there isn't, and never was, any right way to care. It's enough that it matters to people that they not see their fellow humans suffering.And how right he is. I think the people that visit ground zero care. It doesn't have to be a monumental, sweeping feeling. But those who come, pause, and reflect: they care. One of the things which resonates with me the most is that Anil thinks that 9/11 should not be a day to 'Never Forget' but a day to 'Always Remember.' There is a fine distinction between the two, and I have to be cautious of using the former message. As though we can actually forget? I wish I could write something more profound today. I asked several of my classmates to offer me their thoughts on how their day unfolded eight years ago today. No one responded. I will try again next year. Inspiration for this post: Anil's thoughts and reflections on 9/11. I highly recommend reading his posts, which are linked to below: 9/11/2001: Thank YouOne year ago, I wrote that we shouldn't forget. Heck, even earlier today, I wrote to never forget. After thinking about it, reading Anil's thoughts, I leave with the following: 9/11: Always Remember. |
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