dive into mark

An event of this magnitude can’t help but be a singularity, a moment frozen in time. Everyone of my parents’ generation remembers where they were when they heard that John F. Kennedy was shot. We will all remember where we were on September 11, but more importantly, we will remember who we were. Our individual reactions in the wake of these attacks tell the story of our lives. However you reacted on Tuesday, on Wednesday, on Thursday and beyond, is your personal summary — a summary of your upbringing, your beliefs, your education, your prejudices, your choices made and your choices not made. You are who you are right now; whoever else you wanted to be by now, it’s too late. September 11 was the measurement point, the pop quiz, the day of self-judgment.

If you always wanted to be more tolerant, less racist, more forgiving, less xenophobic — too late! Did you give in to the temptation of racism when you heard the news? I did. In my last apartment, I had upstairs neighbors who were Muslims, who kept me up half the night with chanting and dancing and foreign-sounding chatter. When I realized this was a terrorist attack, I thought of them. Did I think about how they feel? Did I think about whether they lost family or friends in New York or DC? No, I simply thought about the color of their skin and the foreign sound of their voice.

If you always wanted to be a more loving father, or mother, or son, or daughter, or brother, or sister, or friend — too late! Did you think of your family when you heard the news? I didn’t, not right away. I was too busy watching CNN to think about my own mother and father (who, luckily, are safely tucked away in Jackson, Mississippi), or even my girlfriend’s sister, who lives in Staten Island and works in Manhattan. I didn’t even have her phone number; my girlfriend had to give it to me over instant messenger so I could call her. Did I think of my coworkers in New York? No, it took my boss to remind me that we even had an office in the World Trade Center. And to remind me that he should have been there himself (like he has been every Tuesday and Thursday for months), except for a scheduling mixup which led the client to say, “Skip it for today and come up later in the week.”

If you always wanted to be more active, less apathetic, more giving, less self-centered — too late! Did it occur to you to give blood, money, or time when you heard the news? Not to me, not until I read about all the places to give to the Red Cross (via Amazon, Yahoo, PayPal, or 1-800-HELP-NOW).

At the same time, September 11 can also be a starting point. If you ever wanted to be less racist, start now. American Arabs are being harassed nationwide. Your water cooler conversations no doubt include lots of inflammatory and bigoted opinions. Point out that the color of someone’s skin does not automatically associate them with extremists halfway around the world. If you have Muslim neighbors upstairs, treat them like the real people they are. They have the same fears and concerns you do, plus they’re likely being harassed.

If you want to be more active, start now. Go give blood. Give money. Go back to the church you’ve been neglecting. Go to a candlelight vigil. If you’re in New York or DC (or can get there), volunteer to help clean up once such efforts are underway. Once we get past the shock, there’s an awful lot of hard work to do. There’s two feet of soot around the remains of the World Trade Center. Thousands are dead, tens of thousands displaced from their offices and evacuated from nearby apartments, hundreds of thousands inconvenienced in smaller ways. If you’re an employer and always wanted a better relationship with your employees, start now. Offer grief counseling. (Mine did.) Offer additional time off. (Mine did.) Be patient as people grieve in their own ways. (Mine is.) Realize that work isn’t anybody’s top priority right now. (Mine does.)

If you’ve cut yourself off from friends or family, use this as an opportunity to reconnect. This crisis has gotten me back in touch with many old friends whose correspondence I had sorely neglected. You know how it goes: I kept meaning to write back, kept meaning to phone… someday. Too late! But also not too late, because we finally did connect, and now the old conversations that had stagnated are once again flowing. I spent Tuesday glued to CNN, constantly talking to friends and family over instant messenger, e-mail, and phone. Because I work at home, I was in a position to have access to virtually every media outlet, and I acted as a conduit to funnel information to friends who had less access. My girlfriend Dora was at work and had e-mail but no other internet access or TV; she couldn’t get through to her sister in New York, but I managed to (after about ten tries) and confirmed that she was alive and well. My friend Clint had TV but didn’t know where to go online to find out more information (since all the major sites were jammed, and he didn’t know about any online communities like Scripting News), so I kept him updated on first-hand reports and other bits and pieces of information that I found through Slashdot, or on international sites like The Jerusalem Post. My father had only phone and had heard only bits and pieces, so I gave him the entire rundown by phone and later kept him up to date my instant messenger. My coworkers Stas and Dennis both went home early in the morning and hadn’t heard the horrible news about our New York office; I had the unpleasant task of informing them. Odd that I, being physically isolated in North Carolina, could act as an information hub, but I could, so I did.

I have no children, but if you do, you must talk to them. Depending on their age, they may not understand what’s going on at all, and even if they do, they’re looking to you for guidance. Your reactions, your explanations, your uncontrolled outbursts will shape their perspective for years to come.

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