September 11th 2011, I was 12 years old in middle school sitting in Home Ec (yes, seriously) class when the lights went out, literally and figuratively. This was in the very early days of kids having cell phones, maybe 2 kids in our whole classroom had a cellphone, and whispers of a "bomb" infiltrated the classroom. The teacher turned on the television for a moment and we saw what was indescribable in that moment, New York City under attack. She quickly turned it off and we continued whispering among ourselves. Then, the lights actually went out, as there was a random outage with the power grid despite being a sunny day. When the power came back on, the classroom phone rang and the teacher asked me to go to the front office as my mom was there to pick me up. All within the hour that the first tower was hit.
I was confused and saw my mom looking very worried and she told me to come with her to the car. Once in the car, she explained that the World Trade Towers had been "bombed" and that Aunt Michelle and one of our close family friends both worked in Tower 1. We went home and sat in front of the TV for the rest of the day, for the rest of the night as I woke up from adolescence. We talked and speculated as my mom called our family in New York. My aunt was on a business trip in Chicago, so she was safe, although she had not heard from several of her colleagues. Our family friend was one of thousands who ran down the stairs of the tower as it burned and was lucky to make it safely out. I remember listening intently to President Bush as he tried to make sense of these attacks and explain them to the public. I remember questioning the aftermath and what this meant for our reality, as I scribbled my disjointed thoughts in my diary, questioning when the inevitable war would take place, and wondering if my cousins would be drafted to fight this still faceless enemy.
The word "terrorism" had never entered my vernacular prior to 9/11, but it infiltrated my reality from that day forward.
I became a news junkie, a political junkie, and I still am. I remember listening to the song "What's Goin On" on repeat, for hours, as my 12 year old mind tried to make sense of what was happening in our world. I call this an awakening because prior to 9/11, my days were spent with dolls, books and filled with innocence, and in one day, or in actuality, a few hours, I was suddenly conscious of the realities of the world around me. My parents never shielded me from the news, even when they struggled to make sense of it themselves. The early 2000's were filled with a unique mix of patriotism, political disapproval (see 2003's announcement of Iraq invasion) and thirst for knowledge.
By the time 2004 came around, I was 14 and in high school. Along with my best friend, I made t-shirts in support of "KERRY/EDWARDS" and was vehemently anti-Bush. In 2006, I volunteered for multiple political campaigns as a 16 year old, unable to vote but hoping to inspire my teachers and my friends. I worked John Edwards events that my mom would drive me to around Orlando before moving to the Obama for America campaign in late 2007. Immediately upon turning 18, I registered to vote, and will never forget standing in line with my mom as we voted for Obama. It still gives me chills to think about the fervor that surrounded us in line, with every single person in our vicinity there for the same reason- to vote for hope and change.
If you know me, you know I am never short of opinion on politics, and am addicted to the world around me in terms of global affairs. I have to know what's happening and I use my education in the field to try to make sense of what is going on to the best of my ability.
September 11th is a day that completely changed the United States, and is a day I so vividly remember being my first entrance into the 'real world,' arming me with an unshakable political consciousness at the cost of my adolescent innocence.
I will never forget that day, those images, those people directly affected and those who risked their lives in the immediate aftermath.