Infamy

The tenth anniversary of the 9/11 attacks has come and gone, and the press surrounding this milestone has died down.  In this week that followed, New York was able to really reflect on the last decade of our country's history, and re-absorb the magnitude of horror that happened here ten years ago.  As a teacher, this is always an interesting time of year.  We have a moment of silence and say the pledge with renewed fervor, and teachers talk to the kids about why we pause every September eleventh to remember a fateful morning and its devastating aftermath.  Our middle schoolers were very young kids in 2001, and though most of them lived here in the city, they have absolutely no emotional connection to the day or its significance.  When they discuss the attacks in class or in writing, it is with a cooly distant tone.  I imagine that they read about 9/11 the way that our parents read about Pearl Harbor, understanding that it was a horrific event without feeling very horrified.

"New York City is filled with children who have no reason to distinguish the eleventh from any other day in September.  At some point they'll learn, but for now, for them, what actually happened could never have happened." -Jonathan Safran Foer

As their teacher, there's something terribly isolating about the way the kids see 9/11.  I was surprised by it with my first class - the fact that it was just another day to them - but now I expect it, especially as the kids get younger.  It feels so lonely around the day in the classroom, surrounded by children because there's really no way to make it meaningful to them the way it's meaningful to the adults.  In fact, I almost envy the kids' naivety, and while part of me wants them to really feel the somberness of the occasion, the other parts of me realize that they are lucky to have been a safe distance (literally and figuratively) from the ton of bricks that came down on so much of the rest of the city (literally and figuratively).  The slogan that came to be associated with the attacks is "never forget" and it's certainly salient, especially here in the greatest city in the world, where the skyline will always be eerily incomplete.  But every September inside my middle school classroom, amidst the joy and anticipation of kicking off the school year, I find myself disconnected from a group of little people who will probably never remember.