Where were you?
They used to ask: "Where were you when JFK was shot?" Now that question will undoubtedly be replaced with: "Where were you on September 11, 2001?"
I remember being at home with Stuart, both of us getting ready to bike to school, and hearing Bob Edwards' voice on NPR announcing that a plane had just run into the World Trade Center.
"Terrorists?" I said.
"Surely not. A bomb would be easier than a plane," said Stu.
Wrong.
An hour later I was on campus, heading up to the department office to make some copies for the class I was teaching, and I saw the office staff huddled around a small television that had been wheeled in. One woman was crying. There were images then of the Pentagon smoking, and then they cut to New York and we watched as the second tower fell.
I went down to my office and said to my office-mate, "Have you been watching the news?"
"Yeah," he said. "But surely not that many people could have been hurt, right?"
Wrong again.
Like most everyone else in the U.S., I spent the rest of the day in a daze, watching the news and calling my family...and yet I also went about doing business as usual. I taught my class and taught a piano lesson and practiced a little. I think I was sort of numb from it all, because I also remember driving out to Bed, Bath and Beyond to try and return a blender (it had been a wedding gift), and they had closed early. That was probably the most trivial thing I could have chosen to do that afternoon. Later I taught several hours of piano lessons, and had a heartbreaking but meaningful moment with a kid named Jeremy. He was a terrible piano student, but a sweet kid, and when he looked at me with his dark, sad eyes and said, "How could someone do something that terrible?" I almost cried because I didn't know how to answer him.
So that's where I was.
It was pointed out to me this evening that while tomorrow is the fifth anniversary of the September 11 attacks, it is the hundredth anniversary of Ghandi's declaration of satyagraha, non-violent protest, in South Africa. Interesting, isn't it, that on a single day we can remember a terrible act of violence on our country, and a man who was one of the most important leaders of the twentieth century, whose principles were based in non-violence? Though Ghandi was Hindu himself, I believe he found the inspiration for these principles in reading the Bible. (Is this the same Bible that Pat Robertson reads?)
When I think about how my country responded to the 9/11 attacks, I feel anger and sadness, but mostly, I feel shame. 3,000 people died unjustly that day on U.S. soil, and in the months that followed, our military was sent out to seek revenge. Did this set things right? How many civilians died in Afghanistan? Tenfold the number we lost here? Twenty? And in Iraq? How many have died there? How many of our own in the armed forces have died overseas by now? How can this be just? How can this be right? How can these actions possibly promote a better world?
Those questions are rhetorical, mind you. If you want to try and tell me that our military presence in thoses countries is making us safer and that my anti-war stance is hurting morale, please save your breath. The way I see it, dropping bombs on people constitutes as terrorism, no matter who is doing it to whom. Think about it. Five years ago we lost 3,000 people, two skyscrapers, and a piece of the Pentagon, and just that brought this country to its knees. By "just," I don't mean to trivialize the loss, but since then, our military has done far more damage than that, destroying whole cities and their infrastructures. I wouldn't blame the folks in Afghanistan and Iraq for being terrified and angry and disgusted. So many people have died. (If Bush admitted to 30,000 civilian casualties in Iraq, what do you suppose the actual number is? If that's not unjust, I don't know what is. In fact, that seems to be the very definition of injustice.)
Ghandi said Satyagraha is a relentless search for truth, and a determination to reach truth, an insistence on truth. I believe that truth and justice go hand in hand, and that you can not find either if you are using violence to find them.
I remember being at home with Stuart, both of us getting ready to bike to school, and hearing Bob Edwards' voice on NPR announcing that a plane had just run into the World Trade Center.
"Terrorists?" I said.
"Surely not. A bomb would be easier than a plane," said Stu.
Wrong.
An hour later I was on campus, heading up to the department office to make some copies for the class I was teaching, and I saw the office staff huddled around a small television that had been wheeled in. One woman was crying. There were images then of the Pentagon smoking, and then they cut to New York and we watched as the second tower fell.
I went down to my office and said to my office-mate, "Have you been watching the news?"
"Yeah," he said. "But surely not that many people could have been hurt, right?"
Wrong again.
Like most everyone else in the U.S., I spent the rest of the day in a daze, watching the news and calling my family...and yet I also went about doing business as usual. I taught my class and taught a piano lesson and practiced a little. I think I was sort of numb from it all, because I also remember driving out to Bed, Bath and Beyond to try and return a blender (it had been a wedding gift), and they had closed early. That was probably the most trivial thing I could have chosen to do that afternoon. Later I taught several hours of piano lessons, and had a heartbreaking but meaningful moment with a kid named Jeremy. He was a terrible piano student, but a sweet kid, and when he looked at me with his dark, sad eyes and said, "How could someone do something that terrible?" I almost cried because I didn't know how to answer him.
So that's where I was.
It was pointed out to me this evening that while tomorrow is the fifth anniversary of the September 11 attacks, it is the hundredth anniversary of Ghandi's declaration of satyagraha, non-violent protest, in South Africa. Interesting, isn't it, that on a single day we can remember a terrible act of violence on our country, and a man who was one of the most important leaders of the twentieth century, whose principles were based in non-violence? Though Ghandi was Hindu himself, I believe he found the inspiration for these principles in reading the Bible. (Is this the same Bible that Pat Robertson reads?)
When I think about how my country responded to the 9/11 attacks, I feel anger and sadness, but mostly, I feel shame. 3,000 people died unjustly that day on U.S. soil, and in the months that followed, our military was sent out to seek revenge. Did this set things right? How many civilians died in Afghanistan? Tenfold the number we lost here? Twenty? And in Iraq? How many have died there? How many of our own in the armed forces have died overseas by now? How can this be just? How can this be right? How can these actions possibly promote a better world?
Those questions are rhetorical, mind you. If you want to try and tell me that our military presence in thoses countries is making us safer and that my anti-war stance is hurting morale, please save your breath. The way I see it, dropping bombs on people constitutes as terrorism, no matter who is doing it to whom. Think about it. Five years ago we lost 3,000 people, two skyscrapers, and a piece of the Pentagon, and just that brought this country to its knees. By "just," I don't mean to trivialize the loss, but since then, our military has done far more damage than that, destroying whole cities and their infrastructures. I wouldn't blame the folks in Afghanistan and Iraq for being terrified and angry and disgusted. So many people have died. (If Bush admitted to 30,000 civilian casualties in Iraq, what do you suppose the actual number is? If that's not unjust, I don't know what is. In fact, that seems to be the very definition of injustice.)
Ghandi said Satyagraha is a relentless search for truth, and a determination to reach truth, an insistence on truth. I believe that truth and justice go hand in hand, and that you can not find either if you are using violence to find them.
Comments
I spent the rest of the day at home in front of the TV watching CNN's coverage. I remember that I was also taking a political science class that semester: "international relations." The next semester I took a geography course: "lands and people of the non-western world." Needless to say that was an interesting year for the humanities.
I also remember where I was when I learned that the US was going to war with Iraq. I was also in class, but here at Tech. In fact, 9/11/01 convinced me to apply to graduate school. At that time the market for engineers was in decline, and such a significant terrorist attack like the WTC tragedy certainly didn't help the economy, nor the job market.
After trying to nap a bit, I called my boss again to say I really didn't want to come in (it was another 4 months till the headache source was diagnosed, and this was a call I made at least once a week). Again, he said that was fine, I should just stay home since no calls were coming in anyway.
I panicked, thinking my project (which has done an install the night before) had broken the customer service system. He realized I had no clue and told me to turn on my TV.
I did. It was already on CNN. Before I knew what was happening, I saw the second tower fall, heard the repeat of the anchor about the first tower falling, and then heard the report of a plane over PA, headed for the Capitol.
I went in our bedroom and woke up Tom (who worked second shift and hadn't been asleep long), telling him I didn't know what was happening, but I didn't think he'd want to sleep through it.
A few hours later, we got an email from Tom's nephew's mother--our nephew, who lives in Spanish Harlem, had been called for jury duty and she couldn't reach him. It took 8 hours longer to finally get through and find out he was alright.
I also remember attending an impromptu prayer meeting in the Meditation Chapel. I had never seen that many students there in the middle of the day.
Sometimes, Daniel will ask me how I feel about war. I always tell him that I don't begin to understand it.
I still think our president is a joke, but after all he's done, it's a bitter, cynical joke.
Your comments on our government's reaction to 9-11, made me think that you might appreciate this timeline on US interventions around the world since 1801. Unfortunately, seeking revenge, looks to be the norm.
http://adbusters.org/media/flash/hope_and_memory
/timeline.swf
PNAC layed out their need for a catastrophe as a rallying cry for overthrowing Saddam in 1999. The members of PNAC became Bush's Cabinet, and quickly looked for opportunities. This "War on Terror" is a thinly veiled method of gaining power and money through puppet democracies and oil control. Should Osama be punished? One could say sure given the enormity of the attack, but Bush could care less (and has said so).
I won't even go into the insanity of a war on an abstract noun, since Terry Jones covers it much better in his book of essays for London newspapers.
How sad that the Daily Show and the Colbert Report have become much more accurate in their reporting and digging through sound bites for contradictions and lies than our own mainstream media.