September 11, 2012

to remind. to remember.

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.

First hour.
We were being silly.
That good kind of silly.
Where all your carefree childlike innocence radiates out of believing the best in people.

Passing period.

Second hour.
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.
To remind.
To remember.


  1. We watched from Australia - from around the world - in disbelief. I can only imagine what you went through on that day, personally and as a nation. We remember with you.

  2. I was reaching the wee ones. The principal called me to my door and told me " the sold as we know it has changed and will never be the same again. Meanwhile my cheerful kiddos kept painting without a care in the world. We are a small rural school, K-12. The common library had the tv running all day and people (kids and staff) would come in and sit, eyes glazed and quiet, watching it over and over. Nobody asked the kids for a pass; it was all too surreal. I couldn't understand how this happened in the fabulous city where
    I was born.