I was planning on actively ignoring everything that has been going on today, and throwing myself into working. Not because I don’t care, but because it is still too chilling and saddening for me too think about. But after receiving a very kind letter from a long ago friend, I decided I must address the gravity of the day in some small measure. Otherwise, it would only demonstrate unseemly negligence on my part – someone who has made it a habit of neglecting his blog.
Ten years ago, today, I was sitting in either American Heritage Literature or American Heritage History class during my junior year in high school. Suddenly, our teacher – I think it must have been Mrs. Schumacher – turned on the t.v. to images of one of the WTC towers smoking. Class activity ceased.
We were transfixed. What, was going on? How strange, a plane lost it’s way and crashed into one of the towers? Then, we witnessed the second plane fly into the other tower, and everything changed.
I don’t think any of us, in class in Iowa, or those in NYC, Washington D.C., or those in Pennsylvania were immediately comprehending what was underway. When the first tower fell, I theorized that the damage from the crash had caused the tower to get top heavy and so it fell. I remember Mrs. Schumacher saying, “Yeah”, or something along those lines – as if this were simply a demonstration in engineering physics. I think we must have been dumbfounded.
No learning happened that day. Only astonishment, shock, collapse of the illusion of American invulnerability. To this day, I still think it hugely ironic that we tuned into events while in American Heritage class.
As each period ended, we shuffled to our next classes in the hallway. I don’t remember if anyone was discussing what was happening, though they must have been. We got to our next class, where the t.v. was already on and tuned to some news channel. And once again we watched as things unfolded. I think some teachers did turn off the t.v. and try to teach, but no learning happened that day.
I remember praying, begging, hoping to whatever that it wasn’t Muslims. But really, with the geopolitical situation of early 2000’s, who else could it have been? My worst fears were confirmed. Muslim terrorists had perpetrated the most brazen, senseless, inhuman act on American soil – ever. 2,977 people dead in a matter of hours. How absurd, was this a joke? Of course it wasn’t, the tragedy was was real. There were thousands of victims dead, and several more thousands of victims alive: the deceased’s friends and families. What an unwanted distinction, to now be part of a world community that had become associated with such monsters.
Everything changed. We learned nothing that day. We only grew afraid. Non-Muslims were now afraid of and angry at anything that had the faintest resemblance to anything Islamic. Muslims were now afraid of everyone else and angry at the demented coreligionists that could do this. It was senseless then, and hindsight hasn’t yielded anymore. The only thing I have taken away from that time was: despite all calls for calm, the terrorists won – they sent a nation to the brink of hysteria.
The FBI visited my father, though nothing happened to him. A man that we thought was a kind and somewhat bumbling member of our small religious community was apparently arrested, interrogated, and was later reported to have been found distraught and confused on the beaches of Malaysia. Another man who could only be described as one of the most upright people I had ever known was also arrested and deported to Tunisia.
Thank goodness, nothing happened to my family specifically, but there were plenty of stories from friends in other places. Suddenly I found myself in the unwanted position of explaining myself, and justifying my faith. Suddenly this was appropriate for public and invasive discourse. Suddenly I found myself to be put on the flight risk list, and had to undergo extra background checks at the flight check-in counter. Suddenly, I was a walking turban hiding a bomb, instead of an American born and raised patriot. But I shouldn’t overstate things: we were fortunate to live in Northern Iowa, where people were largely kind and welcoming.
Then the wars began, one I personally believe justified, the other not at all. It is fair to argue that some important military goals were achieved, several high profile targets were eliminated. But this cannot eclipse everything else that has happened in the past 10 years.
The American psyche has been indelibly marked. I am acutely aware of my Muslim heritage and that it potentially marks me as a seditionist to a contingent of Americans. That we are persona non grata in some circles and that it is now acceptable to deride, decry, defame, and disparage anything with the vaguest association with my heritage.
But I have also realized (or continue to believe, at least) that a much larger part of America shed the cloak of unreasoned fear, not too long after the towers fell, and started rebuilding solidarity amongst fractured communities.
It has been tough, and not without acrimony, but a dialogue slowly coalesced between Muslim and Non-Muslim neighbors. I think it continues to grow, and it must become robust with the inclusion of members of all faiths or non-faith. It must grow and become vocal to counter the increasingly shrill shrieking of that anti-Islam contingent. And now it seems to have broadened their ideology to anti-anyone-not-in-line-with-Judeo-Christian-Western-European-blah-blah.
Yes, I think America has drawn back from a brink. I believe America has begun to slowly heal. And I think a greater understanding has emerged from the wreckage of the WTC. It’s still quite fragile, and demands our dedicated efforts to nurture, so that some day it has expansive roots to help bind all Americans of all walks together.
America and the world has changed. Anyone who denies that is delusional. Over the past ten years, with various good steps and missteps, America and the world has meandered its way to a challenging position but with better perspective. To meet those challenges, we need to remember that we are all citizens of one nation as well as residents of one world. We’re in this together, folks. Never forget this, Never forget 9/11.
Journagraphist
5 comments:
Thanks, Taaj. I shared my memories on my blog, too. Yes, so fitting to bear witness in Schumacher's class, then to spend another period of silence with Lauters. No words from him. Not a single one. I remember by 4th period teaching was done, but learning? Maybe not.
September 11th happened during my first week of college. My roommate remarked that the attack was probably a good thing because it gave us an excuse to invade Afghanistan and free Muslim women from having to cover their heads.
Thank you for sharing. My response in reading your experiences that day was, "Oh my gosh. I had no idea he and the local Muslim community went through that." It's sickening to think of. I can't imagine what it's like to be looked at with suspicion wherever you go. It's maddening. Do you have any thoughts on how to get past the racial profiling that occurs?
Thank you for sharing and helping people to understand what it's like. I pray God's blessings on you.
I really don't know. Fear and suspicion are now very deeply ingrained in many people's mentality. We should be wary of any sort of radicalization, but it just so happens that the most shocking and recent examples of it have been committed by radical Muslims. Thus they are just too convenient an example (read: target) when it comes to political and security policy discourse.
My cynical side takes with a grain of salt what politicians like Michelle Bachmann says about Muslims and foreigners. I'm not sure if she really believes what she is saying, or has found a vivid bogeyman to keep her supporters focused and motivated. They are, in their minds, working against a clear and present danger. Unfortunately, for simplicity and good sloganeering, distinctions between radicalized and typical Muslims are ignored.
No, I don't think racial profiling can be easily fixed. A fundamental change is necessary in the American views of what a diverse and pluralist society truly means. Does it mean that everyone speaks English, dresses alike, thinks alike, but with a few trappings of other cultures sprinkled here and there? Or does it mean various peoples of very different attitudes and customs can live together with understanding and accommodation?
Right now, it is somewhere in the middle, but a very vocal group of people seem to want to make the first version the dominant version.
I will say this, though: The feeling that my every move was being watched has slowly evaporated. I guess I've reached a new normal, but the thought that I'm suspect by default is always in the back of my mind. It's kind of become so much a part of me that I find myself cracking jokes about it. Perhaps that's a coping mechanism, you know? Defuse the power of an adverse situation by reducing it to humor.
Thanks for the reply and the helpful perspective. Re. Michelle Bachmann and others, I think it's a both/and...I think she and others HAVE found a bogeyman that appeals to people's fear of the unknown and I also think she and others have gotten so used to thinking about it that they have begun to believe it themselves. I was hopeful that President Obama would be able to help us to move past some of that, but he has faced such national crises that it has been hard for him to focus his efforts. I don't blame him; it's just reality. And of course those who fear the unknown are quick to attack him, and I think all too many (but not all) of the attacks are secretly racial fear. I hate when people call him unAmerican instead of debating policies and ideas.
I sincerely wish our nation would become so much more of a melting pot that we would just HAVE TO accept diversity. Everybody being the same is kinda boring anyway. I wish people such as yourself didn't have to constantly have that thought ("everybody's suspicious of me") in the back of your mind.
In a lesser sense, I experienced this feeling in relation to being a female pastor in North Dakota. I always worried that I represented all female pastors forever (I was the first one at my church). I worried that if I messed up at something, that would make everybody say bad things about women in leadership. I know this is nothing in comparison to being worried people think you are a terrorist but I can kinda sympathize in that way. Even for me, it was a heavy burden and I can't imagine what it's like for you.
Thanks again for sharing.
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