I remember walking through the village as the smell of change in the form of smoke informed me that things in this country would never be the same again. There was a sense of disbelief almost surreal heavy on my soul. I remember the need to call family and friends just to let them know they were in my thoughts and to see if they were ok and being frustrated because all the lines were down. I still experience these feelings 8 years later since the towers fell. It’s funny how these thoughts always find a way to creep in to my lessons during the first week of school. For the past three years I have used the poem First Writing Since by Suheir Hammad to illustrate the emotions that could have been possibly felt by people who some may view as the enemy. It’s funny how every time I use this device it brings me up close and personal with the reality that there really are no enemies in war…only victims. This year I decided not to use it because it always proves to be just emotionally charged enough to tip me over the edge of composure. I guess testosterone took over this time. I guess I should get to know my students a little more before I allow them to see me struggling with these emotions in the middle of class when they find their way to the surface as they always do. People around me are just as confused if not more, when they do, especially since I didn’t personally lose anyone in the attacks, although there were some close calls. Maybe I’m just a softy to feel this way every single year. But to deny these feelings would be far worse.
May God bless you all.
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