September 13, 2001: Back-to-School Night
Sitting alone in my elementary school classroom I was reviewing some notes for the full evening ahead. But it was impossible to concentrate since my mind couldn’t think about anything other than the devastating events that took place in our country two days prior.
My stomach hurt.
I still couldn’t eat.
And I was desperately trying to find the right words to say to the parents of the children that I stand before every single day.
I knew that night was about to be so much more than providing information regarding the curriculum, test scores and classroom expectations. Instead, it was going to be about humanity, our children and our community.
Parents soon arrived and filed into my classroom. One by one they entered and quietly took their seats. Usually there is a buzz of excitement surrounding this evening, the idea of embarking on a new school year…but, that was not the case on September 13, 2001.
For the first time in my life I wasn’t sure how to begin that presentation. I’ve done it for a few years very successfully but I was standing before a very emotionally charged classroom full of parents who were all trying to fight back tears – and so was I.
We were a nation at war; a country devastated.
We were a heartbroken community and school-district in mourning, having lost many parents…
I looked around my classroom at every face staring back at me and I saw their own children in their eyes. Mothers were crying and fathers were somber, still in a state of shock.
Wearing my new black suit, I slowly moved toward the PowerPoint and turned it off. I folded the note cards that were in my hands on the desk in front of me and began to speak the only way I knew how – from my heart.
To this day, I couldn’t tell you exactly what I said – but what I do remember is that I connected with every parent in that classroom that night. I spoke the truth – honestly telling them that I was also having a difficult time grappling with how to answer the many questions that the children were asking me.
I couldn’t fully explain to third graders why other human beings would want to fly planes and crash them into buildings. I couldn’t find the right words to comfort a 9 year-old girl who didn’t understand why her best friend’s father didn’t come home that day.
I couldn’t answer many of the questions they were asking because I didn’t have the answers myself.
But what I did know was that part of my job was to ensure that they felt SAFE in my classroom; that they felt comfortable enough to know that we could talk about anything that was on their mind because this was our new reality and we would be exploring this new landscape, together.
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Fast forward to February 2011 as I stand not before a classroom full of parents but in front of a sink full of dishes when my five year-old son approached me.
Holding SpongeBob in one hand and a juice box in the other he asked,
“Mommy…what’s a terrorist?”
That question brought me right back to the days of trying to find the right words to help a classroom full of young children understand this very complex issue.
I answered it the only way I know how – again, from my heart.
I want what we all want for our kids – for them to be productive citizens of this country; to have an appreciation for our freedoms and gratitude for the men and women who risk their own lives to keep us safe; and an understanding, awareness and respect for other cultures so that we can live together happily, peacefully.
As devastating and at times scary as this post 9/11 world has become, I am comforted in knowing that my son is part of a new generation – hopefully, one that will get this thing right.
I too hope that this next generation will bring the change the world so desperately needs. Right here in this country, a country where many children have grown up more privileged than they will ever realise … there is racism, bigotry, hate mongering, bullying … the sad list goes on.
We try to teach our children tolerance, to not judge others, to be kind and truthful …. I hope these teachings stay with them throughout their lives, that this generation – these children we are readying for the world, will make it right.
I remember the tragedy of 9/11, my children do not … I hope they never have a memory like that etched on their souls.
Thank you Heather – beautiful post!
This was a beautiful post. I felt tears well in my eyes, thinking again back to that day, that week. Oddly on the same date, September 13, my second grandaughter was born. While we were excited, we wondered what kind of world we were bringing her into.
It’s sad that a 5 year old needs to know what a terrorist is. Even sadder that in other countries, that word is a much more common everyday threat…
Bernice
The Gifts of Imperfection- Giveaway
I thought the same thing when those words came out of his mouth. Terrorist and many other words will be a part of their vocabulary and it is sad…but our new reality.
I so totally could have written the top part of this post! That was me, adding that we were 72 miles northwest of NYC and many of us were still trying to get a hold of and account for family and friends. It was so awful.
My own kids, because we used to live up there and because my ex put a sticker on the car that I now drive, which is still there, are aware of it. We talk about it on the anniversary each year and about how no matter what people convince themselves of, our God would never believe it was okay to act in such a manner.
You are such an amazing writer. Just beautiful…
Kindness, tolerance, acceptance, resilience – these are things we must teach our children – because bad things happen. Thank you for reminding us.
Trying to explain 9/11 to a room of students was possibly the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I remember another teacher pulling me out of my 2nd block class to tell me and I went back in to my classroom and didn’t care about teaching about the Boston tea party any more. One of my students, who rarely ever spoke, yelled out, “It’s okay, we love you, Ms. K!”
We all had to tell our students what happened after they came back from lunch. My classroom of 8th graders, most of whom had one or even two parents in the Marine Corps.
How I found the words, I don’t know.
And our kids…they don’t know a world before 9/11…I hope they are the ones to get it right.
That time will be forever a part of our soul. We will be connected with those kids and parents in that way for life.
My daughter who just turned six is also starting to ask so many of these same questions. She is starting to see that world is not just elmo and barney singing songs that maybe the world is not made up of butterflies and rainbows. It is hard because I want to protect her from what is bad in this world but also know she needs to understand and hear the truth from her parents not a friend in the lunchroom. So I am with you we (her dad and I) speak from our heart with our children and tell them in age appropriate ways what is going on in this world. And also how they can do there part in making our world a wonderful place to live in.
I’m on the west coast of Canada so my experience of this is quite different, but I remember the devastation of that day. It must have been so hard to be that close to it.
The point is still the same, though – I’m going to have to answer these questions too. Thank you for sharing this point of view. What a wonderful way to deal with it – from the heart.
My children were in school that day and they saw it there. They were 7, 10, and 11. How do you explain something that is inexplicable. Even in NC, the ripple effects were tangible. My brother had worked at Dean Witter and lost friends. I got engaged at Windows of the World. Sometimes, there are no rational reasons…being a parent is hard!
amazing post.
Really beautiful post! Thank you for sharing what had to be an awful time for you at that moment! I really do hope the next generation gets it right!
I’m so glad you shared this with us. I was kind of a teacher at the time too. I was chosen to be a Freshman English Assistant in my senior year of college and I had to teach the day after 9/11. We didn’t do anything but talk about the attack. I mean, really, everything else seemed so trivial. I just let everyone get their feelings out. That’s all I could do. And that’s all I wanted to do. I’m sure the parents appreciated your willingness to talk about it and be truthful with their children.
Yes, just having an open dialogue about how to approach the topic and being honest throughout the process was the only way I knew how to deal.
Sad and lovely and scary and hopeful — thanks for posting. I dread the day when my kids are old enough to know what happened on 9/11 and ask me where I was — which was in Manhattan with my husband (then on/off boyfriend). I don’t know quite how I’ll ever explain to them what we saw, heard, felt that day and well beyond. I really don’t.
What a beautiful, reflective post. How amazing that you were able to articulate your feelings of the past into a present day reality. Like, you I can only hope that our children never have to experience what the world witnessed that day. Thank you for sharing.
I dread the day that my kids ask me that question. I’ve saved all the newspapers from 9/11, and have written a post about that day, so hopefully I can explain it to them without scaring them.
Beautifully written. Isn’t it amazing how one thing can take us back to that very day?
9/11 is one of those days that none of us who are old enough to remember will ever forget. I pray day in and day out that the generation growing up right now can do a better job than it seems our generations have. I have all of the newspapers and magazines from when it happened and I have no clue how I will go about explaining it to my son when he gets big enough to ask. I’m sure you did an excellent job telling your son. Beautiful post. Thanks for sharing it so honestly.
I remember getting a call from a my husband at work while I was in a classroom of three year olds. It was a surreal feeling to hear such news from my loved on’s voice, filled with intense devastating pain, yet I was unable to be there with him. I had to remain the strong happy preschool teacher and could not fully comprehend the devastation at that moment. My students were at centers and engaged in dressup, sand and water play, and puzzles as I stood there in the middle of the room watching it all. I wanted to run to my husband, yet I also wanted to sweep up all my lovely kiddos and keep them safe for ever. Many parents came to get their children early and we hugged goodbye that day. The need to be close was paramount for most of us in the following days.
This post brought tears to my eyes. You are an amazing writer. It breaks my heart that one day I too will have to explain these sorts of things to my son.
This post gave me a lump in my throat. It is so hard to know that we have to been the ones to share things with our children that will change their innocence a bit. I think you did an amazing this as a teacher though, admitting sometimes that you don’t know what to say is the best thing that you CAN say.
JDaniel overheard the news on the radio and asked questions about what was going on in Egypt. I dread have to let him know what a terrorist is. We will talk about it. I just hate that he has to eventually know.
I haven’t had to explain 9/11 yet, and I just pray I can say the right words to my kids. I so wish they never had to know…
We were so worried about all our friends on 9/11. We were in Africa without tv and radio to get news, and we had been living in NYC prior to our year in Africa so our life was there. We had so many personal stories of people who were there in the WTC, but miraculously no one that was hurt.
What a heart-warming and heart-wrenching post, Heather. My daughter hasn’t yet asked about it. I do know that it is part of history cirrcula in junior and high school. I hope I can find the right words when it is time to discuss it with my children. Sometimes when topics are emotionally charged, the perfect words are hard to come by.
I’m so glad that my kids are growing up today. I truly am. They are among other cultures daily, whereas I didn’t know anyone other than Scandinavian until I was in 6th grade. My father was like archie bunker. I had a skewed version of ‘the world.’ So when things like this happen – I would hope that I can tell the boys that it’s not a ‘culture’ or a certain ‘race’ that’s doing awful things, but certain people that just didn’t grow up with the same morals and values as we did. I know parents who condemn entire races for 9/11. It’s awful. And wrong.
We can only do our best, and do it with honesty.
Oh, that gave me chills! It’s amazing to me to think it’s been almost 10 years since 9/11, and sad to know our kids have no memory of a time before that.
Very well done. This time was so difficult for all of us. My kids were in elementary school and we were trying to sort out family from Boston (they missed their flight- yes THAT one) and brother had a friend in the Pentagon.
Your students and their parents were lucky to have a teacher like you that was able to connect when it was needed more than ever.
I cannot imagine being there in that classroom that day. Our world certainly changed that day. So wonderful that you spoke to them from your heart and that you were honest with your son. I don’t know how I would have answered that question to my son.
He has no idea about these things yet. Ugh…I know I just have to be honest.
Thanks for a beautiful post.
So a good post, Heather. And yes-=the questions are only getting harder and harder. “What’s a terrorist?” is a difficult one.
I was eleven when the towers fell. For weeks it seemed every teacher had some sort of speech to give us, to make us feel safe, to educate our young minds, to encourage us, to bring out some patriotism in us. Each had something seemingly profound to offer, and I took in their words carefully as I grew up in my post-9/11 years as a pre-teen, young adult, and now a mother.
I’m a military wife now. Almost 10 years later I cannot believe I have friends, my age, who probably thought, just like me, that this would be a memory of our childhood, and resolved by the time we were grown so we could tackle things like the ozone and our environment, and all those other worldly issues of my generation. I’m not even sure we fully understand what we’re doing this for, because so many of us were just children when it all began.
And yet, here my husband is facing a deployment. I’ve seen friends lose husbands, fathers miss births (including my own husband), seen men suffer from PTSD, and grow with bitterness and resentment because we are bound to that problem that, honestly, so many of us just don’t want anymore, and should never have been ours to begin with. It was left to the very children who thought the ‘grown-ups’ would fix it before we reached adulthood ourselves. Now I look at my daughter and pray we solve this before she grows up and it becomes her generation’s issue to resolve instead.
Looking back on my 6th grade classroom… I’m just so angry that we’re still dealing with this. This should’ve been finished. We should be onto tackling the issues of tomorrow, not of 2001. *sigh*
My hat is off to you and your family – YOU are the families that keep this nation SAFE…The words I express here of gratitude won’t ever begin to heal the burden I know you must experience…all I can say is thank you – thank you for what you, your husband and family does for this country.
This was a wonderfully written post. My son is now 6 and he asks such difficult questions. The only way I know how to answer them is with simple, honest answers.
Great post, Heather. I remember everything so vividly from 9/11 – it’s as fresh in my mind as if it happened yesterday. Now, as a mother, it seems so much worse to me, you know? And answering these hard questions our little one ask us… so very hard, but yes, being h, without honest is of the utmost importance.
That made me cry. Everything changed. Amazing post.
Oh I just got chills because you brought me back to my first year teaching in FL. It was about 3 weeks into my teaching career and my assistant comes in, and tells me the news. I will never forget I was teaching addition. I can even picture what I was wearing and the blown up worksheet I had stuck to the blackboard. Chills.