What does 9/11 Mean to you?
I am not going to say a lot about the events of twenty-one years ago today except to mention with profound sadness that I suspect the day will stay with those of us who lived through it the same way Pearl Harbor stayed with my parent’s generation.
As a child, I recall the calendars marking December 7 as Pearl Harbor Day. I can remember the solemnity around our house, and as a child who did not live through those times, I didn’t understand why people were sad. 9/11 opened my eyes to the concept of national grief, which was something I read about but did not comprehend. Now I get it.
I grew up with a lot of hatred for Germans and Japanese by members of my community. I see residual hate for Muslims in America. On 9/11, we were attacked by one Egyptian, one UAE, one Lebanese, and sixteen Saudis with funding for Al Qaeda coming from inside Saudi Arabia, but not the Saudi government. There were no Afghans, no Turks, no, Somalis, no Tunisians, no Palestinians, no Pakistanis, or any of the other Muslim nations. Yet “Muslims” were blamed. It is the same as blaming “Lutherans” or “Catholics” for the Holocaust. It is not fair.
I’m seeing less Muslim hate in the news feed, and I think that is because, over the past four weeks, I removed two-hundred people from the days of yore. I have no time for hate, rancor, or professional victims. We are all in life together and need to remember there is a place for everyone.
I remember 9/11 and I will never forget that day because I can’t forget it. I will not use the day to stoke hatred. Instead, I will use the day as a reminder that life can end quickly, and to be at peace with those you love.
