Remember...Reflect...Respond

September 11.

The day Americans proudly proclaim, "NEVER FORGET!"
We share a Facebook post.
We post a status or respond to another's about where we were.
...and then we move on.

As a person shaped by great loss, there's something about the phrase, "Never forget," that bothers me. I see people use it when they give a shout-out to a loved one who has passed away, proclaiming that they will never forget. ...and there's part of that saying that feels false to me - because in the living of life, we do forget. We do live our lives without consciously remembering events that shaped us. I am not suggesting that we haven't been changed, but I think there is more power in remembering than posturing we've never forgotten.

To remember suggests that we are circling back to this moment in time, and we are once again, giving it space in our life to shape us.

Seven years ago, the day after the tenth anniversary of 9/11, I wrote this blog about responding to the remembrance.

Do I remember where I was? Sure, because I've written it down and Facebook reminds me of previous posts where I've detailed it. Where I was, though, when I learned of a plane flying into one of the Twin Towers is not nearly as important as the response.

It was the strangest day.

I tuned into the radio on a Tuesday morning - a golden, first-of-fall morning.
Oh my God, came in a horrified whisper from the commander of Camp Dodge.
I turned into the parking lot to board my bus to campus.
What? What was happening? The South Tower? What?

In the air of confusion, I boarded the bus.
No one said a word. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
I walked into my classroom; no one knew what was happening - but a few knew something did.
My teacher carried on with class as normal.

It seems impossible now to imagine something went on as normal.
But now that I'm a college professor, I get it. That time before class (and this was a 9am) - we are in our own little world. It's rush-rush-rush to be ready (at least for me)...news? In the morning? What am I, Dan Kiesling? 

At the next class, Ballroom Dance, the situation became clearer.
I thought we danced. My friend from that class thought we watched coverage on a TV cart.
I do remember that after, I walked in a bewildered daze to the Memorial Union -
coverage displayed on a big screen... I was seeking clarity,
but there was no clarity to be found in the moment. Too many pieces.
Literally.
Too many pieces to bring the puzzle into focus...
and at that time, we were okay with that. America hadn't yet demanded insta-answers. The competition for ratings and scooping and reporting half-a-story hadn't permeated the media 

In reflecting now, what I remember most was the brightness of the September sun.
How can it be so gorgeous when such a horrific event has happened?
How can time stand so still here when such chaos is reigning in others?

How?
I know now the answer is it just does.

We ask where were you?
But I think we should ask, how did you respond? What do remember about the days after? 

In the bright, eerie stillness of a Tuesday afternoon, I rode the bus back to my apartment.
I sat down at my desk, and I spent hours immersed into a study, Woman of Purpose.
 How do you respond to the daze of uncertainty? I plugged into the Divine Consciousness.

That time immediately after, what do you remember?
I saved so many newspaper articles as we learned more - thinking future generations will need this.
I didn't realize that in the course of 16 years, we'd consider them obsolete news sources.
I remember feeling uncertain, but also profound peace.
I remember people praying, working, seeking, gathering, searching for answers...
a humility of heart present in each of us, unifying the nation, 
when "Where you when the world stopped turning?" captured each of us.

That time of softness - I think of it now with wonder.
We stopped. 
We considered ourselves, our place in this world.

The response as diverse and as divided as America:
Scared.
Galvanized.
Resolved.
Questioned.
Enlisted.
Protested.
Prayed.


Sixteen years have passed, and I wonder where you are today. 
...where I am...in my response.


When we read in the Old Testament, we find not a call to "never forget," but a plea to remember.
The act of remembering causes us to reflect - and reflection then leads to a response. God asks his people to remember, so that they respond in relationship anew.

what would we be like if we remembered that humility of heart?
how would we respond
to each other,
to those who disagree,
to our neighbor,
to our enemy.

Would I be jaded? Would I ignore? Would I walk on by, diverting my eyes?
Would I act?
Would I give?
Would I speak?