While I lay in bed in the early morning of September 11, with my infant son nursing at my breast, America was under attack. Or so it seemed. The morning of 9/11 was one of the most memorable of my life. My husband called from Los Angeles to tell me that a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center. I turned on the television, just in time to see the second plane fly into the second tower. Mere minutes went by when the towers collapsed.
Those events were cathartic enough, however, it was what followed that truly changed me. Like everyone else in America at the time, I truly felt a kinship with my fellow Americans. A renewed patriotism that I thought would solidify the country, wake us up and bring us together as citizens uniting for good.
What ensued was a calculated propaganda campaign that divided us with fear. We were told not to trust our neighbors who are different from us. Our president went into hiding after 9/11 for 3 weeks, instead of telling us there was nothing to be afraid of, we were given a rainbow of “threat levels.” We were forced to give up our civil rights when we flew on an airplane in the name of “safety,” and yet none of those violations actually stopped the shoe bomber or the underwear bomber in the ensuing years—the passengers did, proving that it was never our civil freedoms that compromised our safety, but rather the element of surprise. As I stood in the Islip Airport with the entire contents of my luggage on display for the public, a woman in a uniform opening all of my cosmetic bottles and smelling them, tearing open my brand new purchases from the city and throwing them back in the suitcase, telling me it wasn’t her job to put them back the way she found them, I realized that Bin Laden had won.
With disgust I watched Obese, uneducated Americans with a burger in one hand and a beer in the other talk about how we are America and we were going to kick the Muslims behinds. And I was afraid. Not of Muslim extremists. But of the ignorance that seemed to be gripping our country. I was afraid because my president was telling me to be afraid. And fear comes from weakness, so in essence my government was telling me we were too weak to fight against a few radicals.
With disgust I watched Obese, uneducated Americans with a burger in one hand and a beer in the other talk about how we are America and we were going to kick the Muslims behinds. And I was afraid. Not of Muslim extremists. But of the ignorance that seemed to be gripping our country. I was afraid because my president was telling me to be afraid. And fear comes from weakness, so in essence my government was telling me we were too weak to fight against a few radicals.
At a time when I needed to hear a recap of FDR’s “we have nothing to fear but fear itself” speech, I was hearing that the threat was real and that we need to be afraid. At a time when America needed to come together in solidarity, talking heads were telling me not to trust my Muslim neighbors. At a time when we should have been fighting ignorance, we chose, instead to fight people. And we weren’t fighting with our enlisted sons and daughters, who had patriotically signed up to serve our country, but with our own private mercenary terrorist groups. They had pleasant names like Blackwater and KBR Haliburton. But I saw right away they were being paid the equivalent of the GDP of some small countries, supplied with unlimited munitions and not required to swear an allegiance to our government. What would happen if someone hired them to attack us? The Muslim extremists had killed 3,000 of our own in their worst attack ever. These companies were capable of taking out tens of thousands of people on a mediocre day. And I was confused as to how they weren’t considered terrorists.
In short, I realized that I had a certain amount of shame toward my own country. Once I had been so proud of the U.S.A., but our subsequent behavior after 9/11 has made me unable to call myself a proud American anymore. What could have been and should have been America’s shining moment, when we turned tragedy into triumph has turned into a magnifying glass of what a failure we are. The twin towers still remain un-built, we still can’t take our own water onto a plane and even though we’ve killed Bin Laden, we are still at war. I am different because 9/11 has left me with the wound of patriotic shame. I am different because I never had a desire to be a proud American. I just was. I am different because before 9/11 I expected my son to grow up in a strong America that valued freedom and equality.
And yet, I still have hope that we can regain our former glory. But that entails change, not from our government, but from me and you. It entails work and dedication- the same work and dedication our forefathers had when they started this country. It takes you and me, turning off our televisions, getting together with our neighbors and respectfully discussing the America we want to have and then going out and doing our part. We still have the ability to vote for whomever we like for office. That means we need to do that. We need to make a pact that we won't vote exclusively for our party. That's for lazy people and losers. If we Americans are to be winners it means that each and everyone of us need to lodge our own personal campaign for a better America. It means we need to all come together in agreement that we will not vote for the person who spends the most money. We will not vote for anyone who has a commercial on television or a sign on the side of the road. We will form neighborhood coalitions who will go and find out who's funding the candidates and vote for the one who is getting funding from his/her constituents only.
Is anyone out there with me on this?
Is anyone out there with me on this?