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So, I know I'm a day late on this one, but I do want to answer the question.
I was in class, 8th Grade English, when we got the call over the intercom system that the entire school was to come down to the gymnasium (we didn't have an auditorium) for an assembly. And so my school of roughly five hundred students filed into the gym, chatting animatedly, completely unaware of what was going on.
The principal of our school took his place at the very front of the gymnasium, and when most of the school had quieted down, he began to speak, in a voice that barely carried over the crowd and hushed whispers that were still going on. Someone at the back of the gym yelled, "Can you speak up?"
The principal said, in a somber voice, "No, I can't."
THAT got people's attention. We all became silent as he told us that two planes had crashed into the World Trade Center, and one into the Pentagon, and that if any of us needed to talk to a counsellor, we should feel free to do so.
I have to admit I had no idea what any of this meant. I was a Canadian student at a school in Quebec, coupled with limited knowledge of politics and the financial sector. 'World Trade Center' did not compute in my brain; perhaps if someone has said 'The Twin Towers', I would have understood some of the magnitude of the situation. If someone had explained right away that this was a terrorist attack, I think I'd have understood how serious the situation really was. When we returned to class, my English teacher explained nothing -- I was so frustrated. I went to meet some of my friends at their lockers, and suggested we needed to know what the hell was going on. So we went to speak to the counsellor in order to have our questions answered. My friends and I spent the next hour or two talking to the counsellor and asking our questions.
I walked home after school, sat down in front of the television all by myself, and started to watch the news. I could not tear my eyes away from the footage that was playing on a near-loop for the entire night, and fairly regularly in the days and weeks to come. When my parents came home and joined me, I asked them even more questions, and they answered them as best they could, and when they finally decided after several hours that they should change the channel, I went to my room, turned on my tv and watched the news coverage late into the night. I just wanted to understand how this could happen.
In the nine years that have passed since that day -- and I can't believe it's been nine years -- I've heard so many stories, so many theories, so much controversy over the response to the attack, and sometimes the latter detracts from what this day really means to people all over the world, but most especially to the people of America. For a Canadian teenager in Quebec it meant confusion and lack of knowledge, and my attempts to alleviate them. For many others, it meant so much more and so much worse; husbands, wives, mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, aunts and uncles, nephews, neices, colleagues, and good friends -- taken. Gone forever because evil exists in this world in terrifying, unacceptable quantities.
The first time this day became real to me as more than a day in history; the first day I realized what this day really meant for the people of America, the people of New York, was during the viewing the video at this link:
http://www.tvkon.com/clip-50.html
This is what Jon Stewart had to say when The Daily Show came back from the mutual hiatus the late night shows took in the weeks immediately following September 11th. I must have been about sixteen when I saw this video on YouTube, and it made me cry. Up until that point, I understood 9/11 in abstract terms, and this was the exact moment I realized just how deep the pain goes.
Dear friends, I do not know what September 11th means to you, but I would like to. I know this is a day late, but if you still want to share, I do want to be there. Where were you, what did you feel, what does it mean for you? I care.
And most importantly, I care so much about all of you.
xoxo
Nikki
So, I know I'm a day late on this one, but I do want to answer the question.
I was in class, 8th Grade English, when we got the call over the intercom system that the entire school was to come down to the gymnasium (we didn't have an auditorium) for an assembly. And so my school of roughly five hundred students filed into the gym, chatting animatedly, completely unaware of what was going on.
The principal of our school took his place at the very front of the gymnasium, and when most of the school had quieted down, he began to speak, in a voice that barely carried over the crowd and hushed whispers that were still going on. Someone at the back of the gym yelled, "Can you speak up?"
The principal said, in a somber voice, "No, I can't."
THAT got people's attention. We all became silent as he told us that two planes had crashed into the World Trade Center, and one into the Pentagon, and that if any of us needed to talk to a counsellor, we should feel free to do so.
I have to admit I had no idea what any of this meant. I was a Canadian student at a school in Quebec, coupled with limited knowledge of politics and the financial sector. 'World Trade Center' did not compute in my brain; perhaps if someone has said 'The Twin Towers', I would have understood some of the magnitude of the situation. If someone had explained right away that this was a terrorist attack, I think I'd have understood how serious the situation really was. When we returned to class, my English teacher explained nothing -- I was so frustrated. I went to meet some of my friends at their lockers, and suggested we needed to know what the hell was going on. So we went to speak to the counsellor in order to have our questions answered. My friends and I spent the next hour or two talking to the counsellor and asking our questions.
I walked home after school, sat down in front of the television all by myself, and started to watch the news. I could not tear my eyes away from the footage that was playing on a near-loop for the entire night, and fairly regularly in the days and weeks to come. When my parents came home and joined me, I asked them even more questions, and they answered them as best they could, and when they finally decided after several hours that they should change the channel, I went to my room, turned on my tv and watched the news coverage late into the night. I just wanted to understand how this could happen.
In the nine years that have passed since that day -- and I can't believe it's been nine years -- I've heard so many stories, so many theories, so much controversy over the response to the attack, and sometimes the latter detracts from what this day really means to people all over the world, but most especially to the people of America. For a Canadian teenager in Quebec it meant confusion and lack of knowledge, and my attempts to alleviate them. For many others, it meant so much more and so much worse; husbands, wives, mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, aunts and uncles, nephews, neices, colleagues, and good friends -- taken. Gone forever because evil exists in this world in terrifying, unacceptable quantities.
The first time this day became real to me as more than a day in history; the first day I realized what this day really meant for the people of America, the people of New York, was during the viewing the video at this link:
http://www.tvkon.com/clip-50.html
This is what Jon Stewart had to say when The Daily Show came back from the mutual hiatus the late night shows took in the weeks immediately following September 11th. I must have been about sixteen when I saw this video on YouTube, and it made me cry. Up until that point, I understood 9/11 in abstract terms, and this was the exact moment I realized just how deep the pain goes.
Dear friends, I do not know what September 11th means to you, but I would like to. I know this is a day late, but if you still want to share, I do want to be there. Where were you, what did you feel, what does it mean for you? I care.
And most importantly, I care so much about all of you.
xoxo
Nikki
