I sat at the lunch table today and stared out at the sea of red, white, and blue bodies shuffling in the front door.
Patriotic Day...and rightfully so.
I sat with another teacher and discussed 'the day'.
The day that most of my students's weren't even alive for.
Oh how much changes in eleven years.
Oh how much changes in just one day.
I was a sophomore in high school when that day occurred.
Young enough to maintain my reasoning that all is good in the world.
Old enough to grow up in the span of twenty-four hours.
We were being silly.
That good kind of silly.
Where all your carefree childlike innocence radiates out of believing the best in people.
I was in Bible class.
The upperclassmen history teacher walked in and whispered something to my Bible teacher.
The day changed.
Televisions were rolled into every classroom and we watched the tragedy take place.
I didn't understand.
I couldn't wrap my brain around what was happening.
I stared out the window and watched airplanes make huge circles in the sky.
My childlike beliefs now seemed like a thing of the past.
Life did change after that day.
Some lives were more tragically changed.
But all of us remain changed.
Here I am.
Eleven years later.
No longer a student but a teacher.
Educating children who for the most part don't wake up on September 11th and remember that morning from so long ago.
And so goes our job.