|
On
September 11, my 14-year-old daughter called
me from school to say she was coming home. "School
has been cancelled," she said excitedly.
She thought that it was because of an accident
at the twin towers. From her school balcony,
she had seen a gaping hole in one of the
buildings with black smoke billowing from
a demonic fire. She thought that the pilot
was"pretty stupid" to have run
into such a large building on a clear sunny
day.
People
are eating grass, " he said in an interview
with Earth Times, Then, she heard that students
saw a second plane hit the other tower. Girls
were crying because their parents worked at
the World Trade Center. From that moment on,
she knew something was very wrong. Grabbing
her book bag, she and a friend joined the crowds
filling the streets in front of her school.
The city bus was empty, no driver in sight.
In her platform shoes, she marched like a soldier
with determination to the ferry that crossed
the Hudson River. Along the way, crowds of
people pushed their way into the streets, disoriented,
not knowing how to escape without buses or
subways. All the tunnels and bridges were closed.
She phoned home a second time to let me know
where she was. She wasn't scared; she only
wanted to get home.
Hundreds of
people trapped in Manhattan were jostling
to get on the Circle Line boat that
helped carry passengers. Suddenly, everyone
scrambled to one side to see the disaster,
and she thought the boat would tip over. It
teetered back upright. Her friend nervously
joked, "What if terrorists used submarines
to blow us up?" My daughter replied, "The
Statue of Liberty and the George Washington
Bridge are still standing. Why would they bomb
a small boat? And if terrorists had to choose
between New Jersey and New York, which one
do you think they'd pick on?" Several
times, she reassured her friend that all was
well.
As soon as
my daughter reached home, she turned on her
radio to hear the news. It was much
more serious than she had imagined. People
were trapped, many caught in the rubble. She
worried about those who were under the building,
but she was also mad at the terrorists. They
should be brought to justice, but not killed
so they would have to live with their guilt.
The rest of the afternoon, she took comfort
in daily, small things. She ate her favorite
snack, settled down to finish her homework,
and checked her E-mail. Friends from around
the world were contacting her. Was she hurt?
Upset? Was anyone she knew injured? She smiled
to see so many friendly messages. This E-mail
fest was occasionally interrupted by calls
from fellow summer campers. She greeted one
friend saying, "Hi, wow. Great to hear
from you." The buddy talk seemed endless.
She had escaped to a world where campfires
were cozy and everyone was safe.
She will always
remember that day and yet she wishes she
could forget. It was an occasion
when she was forced to take a crash course
in how to deal with violence and death. Child
psychologists would have given her high marks
for her coping mechanisms. They are advising
children to openly express their feelings and
reassure themselves with familiar routines
and friends. As terrorism spreads closer to
home, we need a better understanding of how
to help our children. Sadly, a chapter on "terrorism" must
now be added to all of our child-rearing books.
Soon-Young Yoon is an anthrolpologist.
|
