The 10th anniversary of 9/11 isn’t more important than the earlier ones or those yet to come, and we may only mark it as “special” because it’s a nice, neat number in our base-10 numeral system, but we feel an emotional need to mark it in some way nonetheless, don’t we? This is my attempt to do so.
Forget-me-notsTen years. A decade. It’s not very long if you look at it in terms of evolution or even recorded history, but it’s a pretty good chunk of change when you consider that it’s approximately one seventh of the average human’s life expectancy. Time didn’t stop for us the way it did for those who were lost on September 11, 2001—we’ve woken up on 3,652 consecutive days since then and carried on with our lives as normal, even though it seemed that the world had completely changed on that day.
I don’t think the world changed so much as our understanding of it—and of ourselves—did. It took us years to overcome the initial shock, fear, pain, and rage that followed. Some people seem to be stuck there, but I think the vast majority of us have worked our way through that awful tangle of emotions and ended up better and stronger for the effort.
There were a lot of questions we had to ask ourselves: What does it mean to be an American? What does it mean to be a Muslim, and what are our responsibilities as American Muslims? What is patriotism, and at what point does it stop being patriotism and descend into jingoism and bigotry? How many of our freedoms are we willing to give up to feel safe? How many of our principle cultural values are we willing to bend or break to ensure our security, or perhaps more accurately, to mitigate the ever-present threats? I think we’ve already answered some of those questions, even if only through silent, look-the-other-way consent. We’re still working on the others. Sadly, though not surprisingly, we’ve also witnessed our collective trauma being used for political and monetary gain by the cynics and opportunists among us. That, to me, is unforgivable.
So, back to the point of writing this. I need a new tradition for this day, a way to extract something positive from it without forgetting the value of the innocent lives that were lost, or the bravery of those who gave their lives in an effort to save others. How to do that?
I’ll start by making 9/11 a television-free day. No more watching networks that are in a ratings race to see who can pull off the most tear-jerking tribute. No more video loops of planes crashing into the towers from every conceivable angle; of people running, screaming and crying, covered in ash and blood; of scorched earth and airplane parts in a field; of the awful cloud enveloping lower Manhattan when the towers fell; of smoking debris and and a gaping hole in the ground as well as the skyline; of demonstrations and demagoguery. Enough.
There will be no more reading of hate-filled blogs or the latest manufactured political outrage on this day. No more arguing with anyone or engaging in snark of any kind. The attacks were the product of extreme hate & intolerance, and I want nothing to do with either of them in any degree today.
I’ll finish writing this, then I’ll grab some paper and sketch or paint something that makes me happy. I’ll spend time online looking for charities that foster the building of cultural bridges, or that seek to make life better for people in countries like Afghanistan, or maybe donate money to a local volunteer fire department.
Instead of being sad about the people who died, I’ll think of the last messages of love many of them sent to their families, and say a prayer for those survivors. I’ll be thankful for the brave souls on United Flight 93 who willingly gave their lives to save God only knows how many others. Maybe I’ll even call up my local police & fire departments and simply say “Thanks for being there.”
That’s it, that’s my new tradition for 9/11: Avoid the bad, the negative, the useless. Do only positive things, think good thoughts, and hope that my small efforts will help to neutralize some measure of the evil that exists in the world. It’s not much, but it’s all I’ve got. It certainly can’t hurt, and it’s better for my mental health.
P.S. I just called my local FD & PD and they were both quite surprised and happy to receive a simple “thanks” of acknowledgement. It was nice to hear the typically gruff Jersey voices go all soft and squishy for a few seconds. You really should try it—they deserve it, and I guarantee it’ll make you feel better today to hear the smiles in their voices.