Can you hear and do you care and
Cant you see we must be free to
Teach your children what you believe in.
Make a world that we can live in.
-"Teach Your Children," Crosby Stills Nash and Young
So we looked at our lives a little harder, called our friends a little more often, hugged our kids a little tighter. And then we complained about the long lines at the airport and obsessed about the stock market in lieu of soul-searching. Time passed. The blade dulled. The edges softened. Except, of course, for those who lived through birthdays, anniversaries, holidays, without someone lost in the cloud of silvery dust, those families the living embodiment of what the whole nation had first felt and then learned not to feel....
-"One Day, Now Broken in Two," Anna Quindlen
Cant you see we must be free to
Teach your children what you believe in.
Make a world that we can live in.
-"Teach Your Children," Crosby Stills Nash and Young
So we looked at our lives a little harder, called our friends a little more often, hugged our kids a little tighter. And then we complained about the long lines at the airport and obsessed about the stock market in lieu of soul-searching. Time passed. The blade dulled. The edges softened. Except, of course, for those who lived through birthdays, anniversaries, holidays, without someone lost in the cloud of silvery dust, those families the living embodiment of what the whole nation had first felt and then learned not to feel....
-"One Day, Now Broken in Two," Anna Quindlen
This past Friday our multimedia class at UCHS aired a five-minute 9-11 tribute video during homeroom. I have no working TV in my room, so I urged them to go next door to watch. One student hung back though, distracted by other things; looking at his phone, he absently said to no one, "Yes, it's 9-11. We get it. We see it every year. What else is there to say?"
Five years ago--even last year, for that matter--his comments would've prompted from me a response akin to anger and disbelief, probably followed by a huge lecture that would involve more emotion than substance. But this time...I just went silent. I thought awhile, then responded to the young man, some minutes later, by simply asking, "How old were you when September 11 happened?" Turns out, this young man was in kindergarten on September 11, 2001, so of course he doesn't remember anything. His frame of reference is skewed by time, relevance, and, of course, the pace and focus of life as we know it today. After a brief--and civil--conversation about the importance of just how much life has changed since that day, we both seemed to leave a bit more satisfied with the outcome. Little did I know the response prompted from me was far from over, and would soon turn into what I am composing right now, September 11, 2011....
It was no coincidence that I woke up at 8:45 this morning, with a Crosby Stills Nash and Young song in my head, and turned the T.V. on at 8:46 to catch the first moment of silence--a silence marking the first of five other moments which will forever be remembered as part of that day 10 years ago when "the machinations from within a country of rubble and caves and desperate want [created] the willingness to slam headlong into one great technological achievement while piloting another as a way of despising modernity."
So I watched this morning with remembrance in my own heart, and as I shed some tears, I began to explore--really explore--why it matters that we not just remember, but truly KNOW, the importance of 9-11. I'll never forget where I was this day 10 years ago. My first year teaching, at age 23, with a group of seventh graders on their way in to my ridiculous little computer lab trailer.
"Mrs. Duvall, " (I was not married then) one of the girls said on her way in, around 9:55 a.m., "One of the World Trade Towers has been hit by a plane."
Those words will forever ring in my head as the penchant of my own "Where-were-you-when-you-heard?" story. Hardly a story compared to some who remember where they were, for example, when they heard JFK was shot, or when they watched the first moon landing, or, my favorite: the story my grandmother told me when she heard for the first time that the U.S. had entered World War I. She was in the corn fields here in Blairsville, a girl of nine, and a man rode up on a horse to tell her father, my great-grandfather, the news of America entering "The Great War." A neighboring family who had seven sons, she went on to tell me, had two of the boys the very NEXT DAY set off to Atlanta on horseback to sign up to serve in the war. Within the following year, the other five boys all decided to serve as well. What a calling--especially when it mattered.
It matters to have knowledge of the event. This weekend I gave my AP students the Anna Quindlen article I quote from above to read and respond to--the same reading I've given every AP class for the past five or six years, never once giving much thought to how far removed they may feel from the event. After all, they were just in second or third grade, and none of them lost a parent or loved one. But it does matter because 3,051 children did lose parents on 9-11-01.
And it matters that we acknowledge these numbers. I saw another statistic today that hit home: less than five percent of the American population knows someone serving in our Armed Forces abroad, or in the Middle East. This number makes sense, though; even as I look back over the past 10 years of teaching and the roughly 25 young men and women I've taught who have entered a branch of service and deployed to the Middle East, I wonder how many of our students know someone personally who has served tours of duty in this dual-pronged conflict that has its very root borne of 9-11? A handful, perhaps? Are we as a nation--as one political analyst put it this morning--afraid of exploring REAL healing post-the attacks? Why have we tried so hard as a nation to mask our real wounds, spending ourselves instead into a frightening deficit, just to make things SEEM the same as they did before Sept. 11, 2001?
I pray daily for the children who will inherit the mess of an economy that is a result of many things rooted in 9-11. It matters that they know where the endless stream of political analysis, the debates, the picking sides, comes from. Whether they care or not, it is OUR responsibility to make them aware, lest this "Millennial Generation"--as they've come to be called--looks back and asks the question: "Where did all these problems come from?"
Still not convinced? Here's some more numbers to think about:
It matters because the U.S. has suffered 4,421 casualties total in Iraq since 2003.
It matters because there have been 1,648 total American casualties in Afghanistan/Operation Enduring Freedom since its outset.
Since 9/11/01, 2.8 million people have signed up for service in the U.S. Armed Forces. This so-named the '9-11 Generation' and their TRUE call of duty (NOT the PS3 game, people) represents the largest volunteer-based military the U.S. has ever had.
It matters that our children know that of our $14 trillion-dollar debt/deficit (yes, that's 14 followed by 12 ZEROS), about FOUR trillion of that is a result of involvement in the current conflicts we have in Iraq and Afghanistan.
You see, life has changed, as I told that young man, since before 9-11. That watershed day changed us culturally, socially, ethically, and, of course, economically. We see these changes everywhere. I see it every time I fill my car up with a tank of gas--at no less than $3.75 a pop. I see it every time I fly, when I'm herded through security and treated like a suspect or terrorist if I have one ounce of liquid over the allowed quantity. But, I remind myself quickly, there IS someone out there who does think that way. And I move on through the security line, silent, compliant. I know freedom is not free.
Look at visiting our nation's capital now, and 10 years ago, for example. I see the changes there as well: concrete barriers everywhere, sharp shooters posted atop The White House, heightened security at all national buildings with general public access. I see the changes abroad as well; traveling as a U.S. citizen is not highly encouraged in many places, and civilian/tourist safety is a definite issue in the Middle East.
I see the change in even this small town we live in, far removed from the hustle and bustle of New York City or Washington D.C. Just this past weekend in the sleepy little neighboring town of Hayesville, NC, a gas station was fire-bombed and the statement '9-11 GO HOME' spray painted on the side of the building. Little do the assailants know, I guess, that the people who own the store are not Arab or Muslim. They are Indian--from India, to be precise, far removed from the Arab conflict in the Middle East. That type of spiraling hatred and ignorance matters, and our children must be educated otherwise, lest we find ourselves faced with another 9-11--except this time, one in our own back yards of small town America.
For whatever reason--good or bad, economical or moral, pacifist or xenophobic, religious or worldly, civilian or soldier, disingenuous or passionate, Democratic or Republican, young or old--September 11, 2001, has CHANGED US. We must recognize this. And we must understand that IT. DOES. MATTER.
Five years ago--even last year, for that matter--his comments would've prompted from me a response akin to anger and disbelief, probably followed by a huge lecture that would involve more emotion than substance. But this time...I just went silent. I thought awhile, then responded to the young man, some minutes later, by simply asking, "How old were you when September 11 happened?" Turns out, this young man was in kindergarten on September 11, 2001, so of course he doesn't remember anything. His frame of reference is skewed by time, relevance, and, of course, the pace and focus of life as we know it today. After a brief--and civil--conversation about the importance of just how much life has changed since that day, we both seemed to leave a bit more satisfied with the outcome. Little did I know the response prompted from me was far from over, and would soon turn into what I am composing right now, September 11, 2011....
It was no coincidence that I woke up at 8:45 this morning, with a Crosby Stills Nash and Young song in my head, and turned the T.V. on at 8:46 to catch the first moment of silence--a silence marking the first of five other moments which will forever be remembered as part of that day 10 years ago when "the machinations from within a country of rubble and caves and desperate want [created] the willingness to slam headlong into one great technological achievement while piloting another as a way of despising modernity."
So I watched this morning with remembrance in my own heart, and as I shed some tears, I began to explore--really explore--why it matters that we not just remember, but truly KNOW, the importance of 9-11. I'll never forget where I was this day 10 years ago. My first year teaching, at age 23, with a group of seventh graders on their way in to my ridiculous little computer lab trailer.
"Mrs. Duvall, " (I was not married then) one of the girls said on her way in, around 9:55 a.m., "One of the World Trade Towers has been hit by a plane."
Those words will forever ring in my head as the penchant of my own "Where-were-you-when-you-heard?" story. Hardly a story compared to some who remember where they were, for example, when they heard JFK was shot, or when they watched the first moon landing, or, my favorite: the story my grandmother told me when she heard for the first time that the U.S. had entered World War I. She was in the corn fields here in Blairsville, a girl of nine, and a man rode up on a horse to tell her father, my great-grandfather, the news of America entering "The Great War." A neighboring family who had seven sons, she went on to tell me, had two of the boys the very NEXT DAY set off to Atlanta on horseback to sign up to serve in the war. Within the following year, the other five boys all decided to serve as well. What a calling--especially when it mattered.
It matters to have knowledge of the event. This weekend I gave my AP students the Anna Quindlen article I quote from above to read and respond to--the same reading I've given every AP class for the past five or six years, never once giving much thought to how far removed they may feel from the event. After all, they were just in second or third grade, and none of them lost a parent or loved one. But it does matter because 3,051 children did lose parents on 9-11-01.
And it matters that we acknowledge these numbers. I saw another statistic today that hit home: less than five percent of the American population knows someone serving in our Armed Forces abroad, or in the Middle East. This number makes sense, though; even as I look back over the past 10 years of teaching and the roughly 25 young men and women I've taught who have entered a branch of service and deployed to the Middle East, I wonder how many of our students know someone personally who has served tours of duty in this dual-pronged conflict that has its very root borne of 9-11? A handful, perhaps? Are we as a nation--as one political analyst put it this morning--afraid of exploring REAL healing post-the attacks? Why have we tried so hard as a nation to mask our real wounds, spending ourselves instead into a frightening deficit, just to make things SEEM the same as they did before Sept. 11, 2001?
I pray daily for the children who will inherit the mess of an economy that is a result of many things rooted in 9-11. It matters that they know where the endless stream of political analysis, the debates, the picking sides, comes from. Whether they care or not, it is OUR responsibility to make them aware, lest this "Millennial Generation"--as they've come to be called--looks back and asks the question: "Where did all these problems come from?"
Still not convinced? Here's some more numbers to think about:
It matters because the U.S. has suffered 4,421 casualties total in Iraq since 2003.
It matters because there have been 1,648 total American casualties in Afghanistan/Operation Enduring Freedom since its outset.
Since 9/11/01, 2.8 million people have signed up for service in the U.S. Armed Forces. This so-named the '9-11 Generation' and their TRUE call of duty (NOT the PS3 game, people) represents the largest volunteer-based military the U.S. has ever had.
It matters that our children know that of our $14 trillion-dollar debt/deficit (yes, that's 14 followed by 12 ZEROS), about FOUR trillion of that is a result of involvement in the current conflicts we have in Iraq and Afghanistan.
You see, life has changed, as I told that young man, since before 9-11. That watershed day changed us culturally, socially, ethically, and, of course, economically. We see these changes everywhere. I see it every time I fill my car up with a tank of gas--at no less than $3.75 a pop. I see it every time I fly, when I'm herded through security and treated like a suspect or terrorist if I have one ounce of liquid over the allowed quantity. But, I remind myself quickly, there IS someone out there who does think that way. And I move on through the security line, silent, compliant. I know freedom is not free.
Look at visiting our nation's capital now, and 10 years ago, for example. I see the changes there as well: concrete barriers everywhere, sharp shooters posted atop The White House, heightened security at all national buildings with general public access. I see the changes abroad as well; traveling as a U.S. citizen is not highly encouraged in many places, and civilian/tourist safety is a definite issue in the Middle East.
I see the change in even this small town we live in, far removed from the hustle and bustle of New York City or Washington D.C. Just this past weekend in the sleepy little neighboring town of Hayesville, NC, a gas station was fire-bombed and the statement '9-11 GO HOME' spray painted on the side of the building. Little do the assailants know, I guess, that the people who own the store are not Arab or Muslim. They are Indian--from India, to be precise, far removed from the Arab conflict in the Middle East. That type of spiraling hatred and ignorance matters, and our children must be educated otherwise, lest we find ourselves faced with another 9-11--except this time, one in our own back yards of small town America.
For whatever reason--good or bad, economical or moral, pacifist or xenophobic, religious or worldly, civilian or soldier, disingenuous or passionate, Democratic or Republican, young or old--September 11, 2001, has CHANGED US. We must recognize this. And we must understand that IT. DOES. MATTER.
...........
The UCHS chorus is traveling to New York City in April of 2012, and I will be with them. I will be there, and so too will that young man who absently sparked this entire intriguing dialogue this past Friday in homeroom. I will again visit Ground Zero, the ninth time in 10 years I have been to that place. I have seen it as it has progressed through its various stages of rubble and on now to its glorious rebirth. I want to touch that new memorial unveiled this morning--physically touch it as I touched the cool granite of the Vietnam Memorial Wall, sifted my hands through the sands of Normandy beach, felt the warm ocean waters of Pearl Harbor, picked up clumps dirt from one of Gettysburg's many battlefields. Touch it like something as simple as my deceased mother's wedding ring--for, at that moment, when I slip it on my finger, I know--just know--that I can remember something about her. I do this not so it should become some talisman of gloom and despair, but instead so it can become a somber physical embodiment of WHY it matters to remember an event, a person, a time--a day like 9-11-01.
So, as we stand there at the Ground Zero Memorial, I will be able to look that young man in the eye--as I touch that memorial, and say, "THIS--this is why it matters."
So, as we stand there at the Ground Zero Memorial, I will be able to look that young man in the eye--as I touch that memorial, and say, "THIS--this is why it matters."
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