Like most Americans, I spent the weekend thinking about where I was on September 11, 2001 and how my life--our lives--have changed since that horrific day. I also spent the weekend thinking about how I was going to approach the topic in class on Monday. Each year, I usually say something about it--especially since it fits in with the American Dream theme for my sophomores--but this year, for whatever reason it feels different. I just couldn't wrap my brain around what to do or say. It's probably because my students were five when it happened and don't really know a world before terrorists, airport security, and wars. They didn't really experience it like I did. But yet, I knew I needed to do something.
So as I sat thinking about it, I took a break to checked my Facebook page. Ironically, that is where I found my answer. I had received a message from a former student who remembered the story I told about my experience on September 11th when she was a sophomore in my class five years ago. She said the story stuck with her and made her wonder about what I was doing today. She also said it was because of me that she was sitting down with her little sisters today teaching them about what happened.
And so tomorrow, that is what I will do. I will tell the story one more time in hopes of inspiring others to honor all that goes with that tragic day and the life that has followed.
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