Hello my lovelies - it's time to sit down on a blanket in this lovely grove again.
It's been a while sine we had a sit-down under the trees, listening to birdsong and feeling the gentle breezes in our hair. It has been a while, and now it is has turned from summer to fall, but I am still optimistic that we can squeeze in a few more picnics before we move indoors. Just pull on a nice sweater and you'll be fine for now.
It is Sunday September 11, 2011 - the whole city is remembering this very day ten years ago, 2001.
I remember it too.
Every single one of us have a memory of that day. It's sort of like: "where were you when JFK got shot?", but in our times. One of the strongest memories I have of that very day were being alone in my apartment, 7 months pregnant with my first child. I turned on the radio, for the TV stations weren't working. I turned on every single radio I owned so I could hear what was going on no matter where I was in my small apartment: while making tea, while going to the bathroom, while lying on the bed, while sitting on the couch, while wandering restlessly from room to room, I could hear the radio announcers' voices talking. I was crying pretty much the whole day, off and on, as I was wandering restlessly around. I received phone calls from friends and family in Sweden and here in NYC (on the landline which was working later that day).
When the first tower came crashing down (or was it the second tower? I can't remember anymore...) I heard a woman wailing loudly in a nearby apartment. "noooooooooooo.... noooo.... noooooooooooooooooooooo....nooooooooooooooooooooooo...." It was heartbreaking to hear her. I felt so utterly helpless. My whole being wanted to sprint out there and help her, someone, anyone - it would have soothed my own aching heart.
I remember calling my ob/gyn (that is the doctor a woman sees during her pregnancy, for those of you who don't live in the US - don't know the name of such a doctor in Swedish?) a few days after the disaster and asking if I can go out there and give blood, something.... anything? Of course I received a stern "No! You are pregnant. You need all the blood for you and your baby" from her. My doctor had a very firm "you're not going out and doing anything, missy" kind of tone in her voice, so I stayed put.
Another very haunting memory I have of that day was the rain over Brooklyn - the paper rain... Brooklyn Heights, Carroll Gardens, Park Slope and nearby areas were littered with office papers that floated across the air over the the East river from the World Trade Center towers as they crumbled to the ground. The wind was blowing southeasterly on that sunny day, and the debris, the office papers, the smell of burnt buildings, the smoke, came drifting over my neighborhood. When me and my pregnant self wobbled out to the front of my building I saw thick smoke coming from the Twin Towers as they had fallen, and papers, papers, papers... drifting, floating.... as if the souls of those departed were flying a last round over the city to bid farewell to their beloveds.
I remember meeting my friend Sheila the next day and walking in Prospect Park together just to get out and away from the TV (which at this point was sending channel 2) and those haunting images replaying over and over again. The path in the park was littered with papers, and I couldn't bring myself to pick any up...
I remember thinking the officers and the firemen that died going up the stairs in tower two were the bravest people on Earth that day!! I also thought the people jumping out of the windows to their own certain death were the bravest people on Earth that day!!
The memories of that horrific and morbidly sunny and beautiful day binds all of us together, where ever we are now and where ever we were on that day. A profound sadness fills us when we think of the almost 3000 people that died then. It's almost too much to grasp for my brain. Almost 3000 died.... in one go?! Whatever our individual memory snippets are, we all have a collective memory that binds us together. It is a very strong bond.
As I reflect upon the events on that day I also think of the consequences that followed. Of the United States deciding to start a war - the War on Terror, as they chose to call it. I think of all the civilians that have died as a consequence of that war. I lost count on how many have perished, how many mothers and fathers, how many sisters and brothers, how many daughters and sons have perished for the sake of this war, and because of it. I think up around 100.000 to 110.000 civilian lives are lost in Iraq since the beginning of the war in 2003.
There is definitely a very strong US and THEM differentiation going on in our collective psyche. How else can we describe that we do not bat an eyelash at THEIR civilians dying.
When the World Trade Center towers came down it was THEM that had killed OUR 3000 people. There were immense emotions, feelings of anger and revenge towards THEM. THEY had killed these innocent civilians here in WTC, Pentagon and in Pennsylvania (where the fourth plane crashed). WE needed to get back at THEM.
100.000 more civilians have died since, because of US... it is more than my brain can fathom.
I took the subway to work several days later, and it was the first time I ventured into to Manhattan after that horrific day. Public transportation was back on track and life on Manhattan was slowly coming back. Here comes my next haunting memory snippet related to 9/11:
I wore a scarf around my neck, a Tibetan scarf that has the 'ohm' sign on it. The word is sanskrit and it means 'the eternal'. In my mind I thought it a fitting scarf to wear. The word symbolizes a way to calm your mind, to unify your thoughts, to create your own peace.
The dirty looks I got on the subway on my way to work that made feel very uncomfortable, and I couldn't for my life understand what people were staring at me for. I got off the subway at Union Square near my work and a large man confronted me and tried to intimidate me, by hissing: "I'm gonna kill you and your people. You're gonna get it back!" I can still see the hatred in his eyes when he looked at me, leaning close enough for a brief moment so I could hear his hissing. He wanted to hurt me badly. It scared me - I was completely taken aback!
Only then did I understand that everyone had aggressive feelings towards me because I was dark featured, "foreign" looking, and I was wearing a scarf around my neck with Asian writing on it. (which is aaaaalmost Arabic, as we all know....). Everyone's anger and hurt and pain were directed towards those of us that looked the part, because somebody needed to take it!! It is accepted behavior in our western society.
It was the "US and THEM" moment defined, and very sad to me...
September 11, 2001, is a day I will never forget indeed. I will remember the sadness of the lives lost, the love and support for each other that extended beyond family and friends to strangers throughout the city, the high of humanity that filled the city in the days and weeks following. And I will unfortunately remember the hatred and the rage in that man's eyes when he looked at me. They saw 'the other' in me. They saw someone that was representing everything they feared and hated at the moment. Dark haired, brown eyed, olive skinned.
Racism at its most grotesque and most unbridled moment.
Paper rain... floating souls making their last rounds over our heads. I wonder what they were thinking as they saw us humans below? I think they are praying that our collective memories not be made of fear and hatred, but of hope and love, of resilience and togetherness.
Thank you all so much for stopping by the picnic spot today. It's been a sad day of remembrance and also of hope for a better humanity. Never forget.
