9/11

I am the youngest that will remember.

I was seven years old. I watched the news from the kitchen. And I remember the horror.
But guess what?
Not everyone does. But we should.

My generation is desensitized. That's all there is to it. It's awful and disgusting, but guess what? When we watched a video of 9/11 yesterday, these were the wonderful tidbits that came from my classmates:


As the first plane hit:
Dude, I wanted a bigger boom!

As the firefighters climbed:
I don't get why it's heroic. It was their job, after all.

And my favorite:
Dude, we're such wimps. It wasn't that big of a deal.
...
Really?

And festivals are held. And people go on. We should. But we should also remember.

Bigger boom? It wasn't 300, or Con Air. It was real life. It was building hit, people's lives destroyed, a country changed.
The people who risked their lives to save others should never -- never -- be demeaned. They did not have to do that. It was the most horrific event to hit my country in the last decade, and they rose to the occasion. They lost their lives. And it is utterly hideous for people my age to have forgotten. We are young, yes, but that is not an excuse.
There is nothing worse than ignorance. Nothing. I am not incredibly patriotic, but I loved my country. And to mock something that awful? That is the epitome of awful.
We aren't 'wimps.' We're human. We were a country unsuspecting and it was a very big deal.
I am the youngest to remember. My generation barely remembers; most of them didn't watch the news. But I'm glad I did.
Because we have to remember. Not for bitterness to grow, for grudges to swell, or to cover our our country in hatred. Not to blame an entire other country, faith, or various pigment. No. We have to remember for those that died. They aren't faceless. They aren't numbers.

They deserve better.