“Oh my God. Oh my God! A plane just hit the World Trade Center! My God! My God,” my seventh grade English teacher, second period, Fairview Middle School, said.
She was in tears and turned on the television and, sure enough, there it was, the two World Trade Center Towers in flames.
I remember the optimism we had as newscasters informed us that people were being evacuated out of the building and escaping to safety and that optimism being crushed when the first tower began to fall.
And hope for those affected dwindled still as the second tower fell and reports of attacks on the Pentagon began to surface.
I remember another student asking earnestly whether it was a movie and the quiet solemnity that blanketed the room answering her question.
Around 3,000 people perished in those attacks on the World Trade Center.
Mothers and fathers went to work and never came back. Others won’t be able to hear sons and daughters.
But what does 9/11 mean almost a decade later? How do we honor those who lost their lives in those attacks?
I’ll tell you what I saw as a thirteen year old. I saw America. Suddenly all lines of separation were lifted. There was none of the usual Republican, Democrat, rich and poor nonsense.
There was only commonality through pain and the drive to press forward.
Thousands banded together to send whatever they could to help those who needed it.
Many came out to blood drives to give their blood for those in need.
Although blood was given, pumping unity and oneness into the veins of our country was the most powerful thing we could ever do.
We were America; we were hurt; we were down, but we were going to pick each other up, dust each other off and keep going. There was no time for senseless squabbles.
Nothing else mattered but getting ourselves back together and helping one another.
The attackers intended to cause disruption and chaos, but that plan was crushed.
Americans were able to feel the warmth and support of one another even at our darkest hour. And not only that, we were able to feel like citizens of the world. Let us not forget that we were not alone in our loss in those attacks.
People from dozens of countries died in the attacks and many countries came to our support making us all one force in picking up the pieces and moving on.
So how do we honor the memory of those lost?
I choose to honor them by trying to maintain that sense of oneness the best I can. Let’s not tear our own country to shreds with fighting and separating ourselves with party lines and political stances when we can be helping somebody.
We can’t tear ourselves from others in the world simply because of their nationality or religion.
We cannot hold the entire nation of Islam accountable for the deeds of some rogues. Doing so would be the true terror as it would be a regression into a time of prejudice and hate.
The deaths of those eight years ago at the hands of those who hated what we stood for would be in vain if we continue the cycle of hatred and discrimination.
I honor Joanne Ahladiotis, a 27-year-old New Yorker who died in the first tower by helping someone in need. I honor Joao Aguiar Jr., an investment banker who also perished in the first tower by not discriminating against someone because of their religion or race and others like him by trying to bring more unity to those around me.
We should vow not to let the veins of our country, or our humanity, run dry because we refuse to unite and recognize our commonality as beings on this Earth.
Can we let another kid like I was feel that sense of kinship without a disaster being the reason why they could experience it?
We are one and there is no getting around that. Never forget what happened but forgive it.
Honor this country by letting unity prevail.
Nicole Robinson can be reached at nrobinson@ut.edu.