I don’t know how to feel about today. 10 years later and it is popular right now – this very instant – to say “never forget” but it still doesn’t inform how I feel.
The attacks in 2001 were shocking and horrible – nothing changes that – but after all the sadness and after all the flowery speeches I am still wondering what’s different?
This makes me angry.
There’s still a hole in the ground at Ground Zero. I don’t understand why. Buildings can go up very fast and, in my opinion, the longer that there is still a hole there the longer it’s going to take to heal. I assume that there must be a reason because if there weren’t I’d hope that public outcry would be deafening, but I don’t know what the delay is.
Instead of making us safer the government took away civil liberties, used the fear to push policy and spent a shit load of money on combat unrelated to the attacks. Some of this anger is fueled by 20/20 hindsight, but some of this didn’t need to happen at all.
The biggest crime is that 9/11 first responders are STILL having a problem getting the medical care they need due to bureaucratic bullshit and an ineffective congress.
No matter your political leaning I think we can all agree that 9/11 was awful. It effected us in ways that we won’t truly understand for decades to come and points out the truly great and truly horrible that exists in our society here in the United States. It’s been our biggest tragedy which lead to some of our biggest heroics and our biggest failings.
We do need to remember, but not just the attacks, also the aftermath, both good and bad. And we shouldn’t make those that we call heroes suffer for a profit margin.
I open the comments to your opinions.
It was disorienting. Confusion, static for TV for days. I was in the library in 4th grade, and the librarian got a call, we all looked out the window and I believe there was billowing dust, and the librarian said she couldn’t see the towers anymore. Within the hour, I was picked up, and dust and debris had already blanketed Brooklyn, and I think I was breathing through a shirt. Even following news and whatnot my mom would tell me, my mind never really wrapped around it. I wasn’t even 10 yet. I couldn’t conceive ascribing a shock value to it. Nothing changed in the way I thought of other people, I didn’t know anyone involved; my childhood is mostly remembered as a dream. Now I’m in college, and my Indian friend said she was spurned for a while, and I can’t believe it. My school was full of South Asians, often mistaken for middle-easterners, and nothing seemed to change. It seems like a bigger deal to out-of-towners, and people here my age weren’t deeply affected unless of course they lost family or friends. I’m grateful that I didn’t lose anyone, but it’s hard to put perspective on a quasi-experience.
I agree with the healing you mentioned. But anger isn’t drive enough, and hurt runs very thoroughly. I still hold on to a child’s view, but maybe as you said, I may not understand the consequence until years from now. Just thought I’d leave a little anecdote =]
Thank you very much for sharing. I truly appreciate it.