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Emily Parnell
on May 25 2013 - 06:00 AM
Do you want something great to happen? You better start doing something.
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Christi Diggs
on May 23 2013 - 06:00 AM
A drop of spin, a cup of deception and tsp. politics=Apathy
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Lindsay Metcalf
on May 22 2013 - 06:00 AM
When that tornado siren sounds, I'm in the basement
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mara williams
on May 21 2013 - 06:00 AM
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Every year for the past ten years I've listened to stories about where people were during the September 11 attacks. Almost all of them have been sad tales that have touched my heart, even when they weren't delievered by the best storytellers. Every year on this day I hear a new story about how someone was at work and heard it on the radio, or at home and their husband called them, or they were taking their children to school.
But, until today, I've never heard someone say they didn't remember.
When I'm not hanging out with my family and blogging about it for this site, I work as an instructor, preparing folks for the GED exam. The group I have right now is mostly teenagers, in their late teens and very early twenties. A lot of them were eight or nine years old when 9/11 happened.
Do you remember being eight or nine? Do you remember what life was like when you were six or seven? I do, sort of. I mean, I remember the time my aunt tried to make me take a nap, but even I knew I was too old for that. I remember getting stuck in a tree and screaming for help until one of the neighbors finally came out and helped me down. I remember my cousin, Eric, taking us to the playground and we were there so long that I couldn't hold it until we got back to the house and I peed my pants.
Boy, was that embarassing!
But I don't remember the political climate. I don't remember the current events of the time. No, I don't remember anything that didn't have to do with He-Man or Care Bears. Not really.
I had to leave the classroom today for a second to make copies. I told them, trying to be funny, to chat for a minute about how 9/11 impacted their lives.
"Aw, man, Ms. Engholm!" they groaned. "Really?"
"What?" I asked, sarcastically. "What's wrong with that?"
"Honestly," one of them said, "It didn't really change my life that much. I was eight years old."
Hm. I thought about that for a second. Everyone I knew had their lives effected in some way by 9/11. I know I did. All of America seemed to change overnight. Everyone was afraid. Everyone's idea of safety was challenged. Some people lost loved ones, or knew someone who lost a loved one.
Not these kids. It was kind of like meeting a new kind of American.
Now, of course these kids' lives changed after 9/11. They just didn't notice it becaues they were so little. But I started thinking about Marc and Charlotte. My kids weren't even born until after it happened. I was pregnant with Marc when the planes hit. He truly has no idea what life was like before that day, and never will. His life wasn't changed, because it hadn't really started yet. And, well, Charlotte wasn't even an idea.
It's odd to think about this. There are people born in this country in what I consider to be a new cultural climate change because of the attacks. They'll hear about 9/11 the way many of us heard about the Vietnam war. Their eyes will glaze over when their parents talk about where they were the same way mine glaze over when my grandparents used to talk about Kennedy being shot. It's a new world, and these are new Americans.
Where was I? Working at a pet store. I was driving the store's deposit through the bank and the bank teller told me what was happening. I drove back to the store and turned on the radio. It was surreal. I was seven months pregnant. The gas stations were nuts. People were still shopping for pet supplies, though, and I think that was the strangest part.
Where were you? Do you remember? More importanly, do your teenage children remember, those that have them? I realize my kids will never really understand how much things changed after that day. I'm still not sure what the history books will say when my grandkids learn about it. History is really quite subjective, and I don't think I really realized that until today.
My 18 yr old vaguely remembers, but not very much. When it happened we did not watch the television coverage and I didn't discuss it with them, I kind of had my head in the sand. I was very scared and this was how I dealt with it, and they talked about it at work constantly. I equated home and the kids with peace. It is up to us to teach them, that is for sure and we have had many relevant talks since then.I was in an American Airlines plane. My spouse was frantic, but, of course, I didn't know that. We hadn't adopted our kids yet, so they weren't with us to see his panic & my work to get myself back to Kansas City. MLK Jr. was killed when I was a child. We lived in Memphis, but I have no memory of it. I've tried to get my mother to write about her experience, but have not had much luck. Events like these are important to remember & we should do what we can to tell our stories.I was teaching when a student came in late and said a plane hit a building. Later our principal came around and told us what was going on. We didn't discuss it much that day, but they had questions for weeks.Those students graduated last spring. I was in second grade when JFK was killed and I remember my mom crying and watching the news coverage of his funeral.
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