A Decade

It was a typical Tuesday. I was sitting in Mrs.Gaston's sixth grade science class learning about the life cycle. I remember that so vividly because looking back it seemed so... ironic. Mrs. Gaston was pregnant and her growing belly would barely let her move around the classroom of 30 kids. I remember what I was wearing was ironic: a denim skirt and a red t-shirt. It was supposed to be a typical Tuesday.

I remember the announcement over the intercom for everyone to "remain calm". Remain calm for what? I was still at the age where adults talked about politics and I had nothing to say, except that I knew I was supposed to dislike the president because his intelligence level was low. I was still at the age where America was such a huge country and it seemed quite indestructible. I said the pledge every morning, but I had no idea what it really meant. Remain calm?

Mrs. Gaston turned on the radio and then on the T.V., stopping the lesson on life cycles. I remember being scared. Wanting my mom. What was going on? People were still talking above us. Never to us. I saw the planes go into the buildings on the T.V. and I heard words like "war" and "attack" and I saw the reactions of the president over and over again. But it had no meaning. What was a terrorist? I remember wanting someone to explain.  Then they turned off the T.V. sets and radios and continued teaching and the only thing you heard all day were whispers. Teachers whispering above you. I remember several of my friends got picked up from school that day by their parents.

Then I carpooled home. Unlocked the front door and scurried over to our comfy couch and I planted myself in front of that T.V., listening to every word they said and only understanding bits and pieces. My mom came home from her school, but I didn't budge. I couldn't understand why someone would want to hurt America. (And I didn't understand why people killed people either-- and to an extent, I still don't).

I had piano that night and I remember we didn't learn any new songs because all I could do was talk to her about it.

It wasn't really until this summer that I saw the vastness of the destruction and that I heard stories of people who were actually in some capacity there. A lady at my internship told me that she worked in the financial district right next door to the twin towers. She watched as the tower fell. I heard stories of how the city went into lockdown. I saw the space where two towers stood and where new ones were going to take its place. I saw the memorials of the police officers who lost their lives. And I saw families by the memorial explaining to their kids, who were born after September 11th, what had happened. I remember thinking to myself, "They'll never fully understand."

Today, I know what happened that awful Tuesday. I'm knowledgeable about politics. I understand that there's bad in the world. I know what the pledge means. I hear songs like "I'm Proud to be an American" and I feel that pride. And yesterday, when I found out for the first time that six UNC alumni died in those towers ten years ago, I got chills.

Ten years ago today, we lost a lot of lives in those terrorists attacks and we're still counting lost lives through the war we're currently fighting. The terrorists changed how we look at everything--safety, religion, war, our country. But I feel pride today because we are a strong country, despite our political battles and drawn party lines. We are a country that no matter our differences, we can still say that we have pride to be Americans.  And if anything, that day and the reminder each year on that date has taught me that your life cycle can be cut short at any moment and to make the best of everyday in this country.

We will always remember.