H
HerrZJA
Guest
Me, I would have been eleven. Sixth grade. I remember coming downstairs and seeing the news on the TV, which was strange. My parents never really watched the news. A building was burning, but I thought it was just on fire. Because of the time difference, a few minutes later I watched the plane hit the second tower. My brother saw it, gave my parents a look. We were supposed to fly to Arizona after school that day to start a big road trip that was going to include one of the Disney parks. I forget which one, though. It’s funny what you remember and what you don’t.
We still went to school, though. Our class was split fifth-and-sixth grade. A lot of students didn’t show up, or went home. Mr. Cater played the news on the radio all day, tried to explain it to us in the gaps. I don’t think I really grasped it until a few days later, though. When you’re eleven, no matter how smart you might of been or what your interests were, that sort of information takes a long time to digest.
The curriculum changed a lot, that year. I mean, we still did the usual science projects and mathematics and all the rest of it, but there was what you could almost call “Elementary School Political Science”. We learned a lot more about what the news was, why it was important, and why it was important to be objective. We learned what was possible for ten and eleven year-olds to learn about tensions between the West and the Middle East. It was the first time most of us had ever heard about Islam, or Afghanistan, for that matter. There was a lot of stress placed on the fact that the men who actually committed the attacks weren’t representative of the Middle East, or Islam, or Afghans. The schools started to focus a lot more on tolerance and politeness.
By the next school year, I knew a lot more about news and politics. I watched it in the morning, read the paper when dad was done with it. I still remember where I was the day it was announced that Canada would be joining the US in the war on terror… on the other side of the continent, in a seventh-grade classroom. The principal interrupted French to give the announcement. His son was one of the first soldiers to deploy.
I can’t say the 9/11 attacks forced me to grow up early, because I really can’t remember much else about that period of my life. Sitting where I sit now, ten years less two days down the road, I can see how it certainly changed my interests. I’d always wanted to be a businessman, and that’s what I still want to do. But instead of thinking mostly about pet shops or whatever the scheme of the day had been, it started to be politics. International Trade. History. For a while, I really wanted to be a soldier. Not to “get these people”, but to help the ones who were already fighting. I think it was a common sentiment with most of the “macho” guys. Now, well… it’s either the business studies or the morality talking, but I don’t think I could ever be a soldier.
Ten years. Ten years ago I couldn’t legally own property, determine my own medical treatment, join the military, or vote. Now, I can do all of those things. And even though they sent away the older cousins and the uncles and fathers to fight in Afghanistan, it wasn’t until this year that the soldiers started coming home. The ones who did weren’t our cousins and fathers and uncles. They were our friends, our contemporaries. Boys I used to trade hot wheels cars and pokemon cards with are coming back as men with injuries, decorations, and hearts heavy with trauma and guilt.
I guess what I’m saying is that I remember where I was ten years ago… but I also know where I am today.
We still went to school, though. Our class was split fifth-and-sixth grade. A lot of students didn’t show up, or went home. Mr. Cater played the news on the radio all day, tried to explain it to us in the gaps. I don’t think I really grasped it until a few days later, though. When you’re eleven, no matter how smart you might of been or what your interests were, that sort of information takes a long time to digest.
The curriculum changed a lot, that year. I mean, we still did the usual science projects and mathematics and all the rest of it, but there was what you could almost call “Elementary School Political Science”. We learned a lot more about what the news was, why it was important, and why it was important to be objective. We learned what was possible for ten and eleven year-olds to learn about tensions between the West and the Middle East. It was the first time most of us had ever heard about Islam, or Afghanistan, for that matter. There was a lot of stress placed on the fact that the men who actually committed the attacks weren’t representative of the Middle East, or Islam, or Afghans. The schools started to focus a lot more on tolerance and politeness.
By the next school year, I knew a lot more about news and politics. I watched it in the morning, read the paper when dad was done with it. I still remember where I was the day it was announced that Canada would be joining the US in the war on terror… on the other side of the continent, in a seventh-grade classroom. The principal interrupted French to give the announcement. His son was one of the first soldiers to deploy.
I can’t say the 9/11 attacks forced me to grow up early, because I really can’t remember much else about that period of my life. Sitting where I sit now, ten years less two days down the road, I can see how it certainly changed my interests. I’d always wanted to be a businessman, and that’s what I still want to do. But instead of thinking mostly about pet shops or whatever the scheme of the day had been, it started to be politics. International Trade. History. For a while, I really wanted to be a soldier. Not to “get these people”, but to help the ones who were already fighting. I think it was a common sentiment with most of the “macho” guys. Now, well… it’s either the business studies or the morality talking, but I don’t think I could ever be a soldier.
Ten years. Ten years ago I couldn’t legally own property, determine my own medical treatment, join the military, or vote. Now, I can do all of those things. And even though they sent away the older cousins and the uncles and fathers to fight in Afghanistan, it wasn’t until this year that the soldiers started coming home. The ones who did weren’t our cousins and fathers and uncles. They were our friends, our contemporaries. Boys I used to trade hot wheels cars and pokemon cards with are coming back as men with injuries, decorations, and hearts heavy with trauma and guilt.
I guess what I’m saying is that I remember where I was ten years ago… but I also know where I am today.