What Do We Teach About 9–11–01?
I, like so many people, can tell you exactly where I was when I heard the news of the attacks on the twin towers in New York. The details become a bit fuzzy with age, but I remember the story.
I was on a private school bus with a Japanese driver. It was a normal bus route that we took every morning to pick students up from several stops, including the housing residence for the US Embassy staff. The drivers played the Armed Forces Radio during the ride so we could hear the news and music in English. It was a kindness that they chose to provide us.
I remember listening to the news segment, which came about every 15 minutes. It told of the planes crashing into the towers and the ultimate collapse. The story of the plane crashing into the Pentagon and a field. All emerged within a short period of time. The military bases were on a heightened state of alert is what we were told.
I was of course stunned. But, I was in Tokyo, Japan and several thousand miles away on the other side of the world. I had landed my first international teaching job in Tokyo and arrived in August of 2001.
My first thoughts were of my family, my wife’s family, and if I knew anyone there. I didn’t. My next thoughts were whether my wife knew and how I was going to tell her this news. Of course, this all went away quickly when I realized my destination was going to be problematic. We were not picking our students up that morning and probably for some time. I just hoped that we did not end up as the leading story for international news as the driver argued with the guards to get inside the gate to pick up students.
The gate was almost everything I expected, minus the US military that I knew was present. There were security busses and Japanese military guarding the gate. Yes, it was a tense 10–15 minutes as the driver argued with the guards trying to finish his duty of picking up students. I spent the entire time with my hands on the bar at the front of the bus looking mostly ahead trying to remain calm. The bus got more than a once over by the guards. Finally, we were allowed to pull away and return to our trip and to school after our other stops.
The rest of the day was a bit of a blur. The news poured in about what had happened. The North Americans got together and talked about it. We scoured the internet during our breaks for information. We questioned what would happen next. We spoke about how we were safe where we were. We wondered about the safety of others and what would happen on the global stage.
I don’t recall much about the days following on. There were highlights of the moments. Some were affected more by it than others. We heard of teachers who left Japan and returned to their homes in the states. There are moments of kindness that stick out though as an educator.
My head of school and principal immediately made sure that we could contact our family in the states and allowed us access to the school phones. In conversations over lunch, he expressed his sincere apologies at what had happened to our country as we talked about it. In the following days, he routinely checked in on us and made sure we were getting support as needed.
We had a lovely couple from New Zealand who lived above us that became good friends. They told us they had watched the news live when it happened and agonized over whether to tell us at night or not. They apologized for choosing not to as they decided it would only cause more grief. They also apologized if that was the wrong decision but told us to come up and watch the news any time.
Staff from North America, who did not know each other before that month bonded. We connected and shared stories. We learned more about each other and where we were from. We learned of family members and friends who had been in New York or close by and were directly impacted. And we discussed what our futures might look like for us moving forward.
But. We were in Tokyo, Japan and never directly impacted by the events of 9–11. We watched from afar as the city of New York was torn apart and healed. We learned of the kindness of strangers in that region of the world. We learned of the boat lift, the fireboats, the planes landing in Canada. We heard the stories of survival and recovery of the lost. We watched the country come together, united in the common shared trauma. All the while, watching from the safety of our apartment in a foreign country.
As an educator, I wonder what I can bring to my students about the event of September 11, 2001. I had no personal stake in the events, but I know people who did. I watched from afar like so many of us who see these world events unfold. And today, twenty years later, I wonder what I am supposed to teach my students in class.
I see posts about pride in the USA. I see posts about never forgetting September 11. There are the reposts about not forgetting the fire and police departments or the horror of the events. Do I teach this to my students? Is that the message I should be sharing right now especially after the traumatic events of the last year?
Do I teach the beating of the drums of war that followed? Teaching my students about the seemingly endless war the United States found itself in as they sought to find those responsible and punish the guilty? Do we talk about the long-term political impacts of these actions that haunt us today? Do we talk about the many more lost souls due to the ongoing violence?
No. When asked about the events of that day twenty years ago, I want others to know one thing. The kindness of others. People who stepped up and showed care for us and others as we tried to navigate a strange new land in a time of great uncertainty. Teachers, administrators, friends who said a kind word or simply sat and talked all the while making sure us and our families were taken care of.
For a brief moment in time, people pulled together. They cared for their neighbor. Everything else stopped as we tried to make our way forward through this common traumatic event.
I was not at Ground Zero in New York. I was nowhere close. I can not speak of the horrors of being there firsthand. But I do know someone who can. I have listened to her speak and share her story, which I know is painful. She does speak of the tragedy and loss, and this is a story we need to hear. But she also speaks of the kindness of others in those days. That is also a story we need to hear.
Kindness is not hard. Respect for others is not hard. Too often, we are divided over differences that do not matter as much as we think. Skin color, country of origin, liberal versus conservative, or the nation we live in are all minor issues. They are made to be to big in our lives and divide us rather than draw us together.
In my travels, I have found that almost every person wants the same thing. Live a good life. Earn enough to live comfortably. Care for their family. Find joy and happiness. Be healthy and productive. Rarely do I find people who do not want that.
What message do I want shared about the events of September 11, 2001? We should not forget what happened, but we should not dwell on the horror of it. I want to share the kindness of others with my students. As an educator, I want my students to lift each other up, recognize and respect differences, honor the different stories we bring, and care for each other. In this time of COVID, these are skills that are necessary, and we have lost them.
I worry that the lessons of that day are not what we carry forward. I fear, like so many good lessons, they mattered for a moment in history then we forget that kindness is a timeless trait. Do we value treating each other well and caring for others? Watching social media and the so-called news today, I don’t think we truly do. But maybe we can again.
Today and in the coming months and years, bestow on others what kindness you can. Our lives are too short to sow hatred and anger towards our fellow man. I will be teaching my students about kindness and mercy towards others. What will your lives reflect on those around you?
And for those who shared their kindness in those difficult days in Tokyo, all I can say is thank you.
