I was in Mrs. Ward’s history class in 7th grade at Osmond Stone Middle School, thinking it was just another day. I had just moved to the United States, and my family was settling into our new home. I made some friends, but mostly kept to myself. I loved America, I loved for what it stood for. I was still a Philippine citizen at the time (I would not be naturalized until 2005).
I moved on to my next class, English. But the tone seemed to be different. It seemed as though many of the teachers, who had access to email and news sites due to their computers, knew what was going on. My English teacher (I’ve forgotten his name, I’m sorry), turned on the TV to some news site.
Just around 0900 EST.
Imagine, a 12 year old’s reaction seeing the second airliner crash into the World Trade Center.
12 years after the fact it seemed that people treat this day like any other holiday. Once the day is done, to box their patriotism and love of country until the next day.
But for me, it only steeled my love of this nation. Because I know it’ll endure, regardless of its own politicians, its own stupid people, and of any threats to it by hostile nations and extremist Islamofacists.
In memory of those who died on that day, those killed and maimed in the wars that followed, we’ll endure as a nation.