9/11

I had a very interesting minute or two today.  On 9/11/2001, I was student teaching in a classroom of first graders in the mountains of North Carolina.  I was swallowed by my sorrow, compounded by their confusion about what was going on in the world around them.  I had to endure praying over the intercom at school, with mentions of God and Jesus- in a public school.  I had to try to gently correct and redirect students who spouted the rhetoric of hate from their close-minded families.  I sheltered G from the Sandy Hook school shootings, but there was no way to shelter kids from 9/11.  Until today, it wasn't a situation we talked of much at our house.

Today G's teacher emailed us parents that she had taught a lesson about Patriot Day and 9/11.  So I decided to talk to G about it.  He first told me he couldn't remember (the start of EVERY SINGLE CONVERSATION with him about school), but then said, "There were the twin towers and some bad people flew planes into them."  He then went on to talk about bit about how the bad people died, to which I spoke of all the good people that died, too.  Then I told him about how I was with a group of first graders when it happened.  How it was a long time ago- those kids are nearly grown now- but I still get sad.

I've been so busy all day that except for the moment of silence at school, dedicated to those that lost their lives, I haven't had a chance to think about that day.  Everyone has a moment that they think of in their lives- where were you when you heard...  Pearl Harbor had been attacked...  JFK was shot...  MLK jr was shot... the Challenger had exploded...  a tsunami had killed hundreds of thousands...  planes had hit the Word Trade Center.

What if my sons didn't have to have that moment?  What if there was no catastrophic event to track what generation they belong to?