What to Understand About “Never Forget”
Every year around 9/11 we see a procession of posts on social media with the message, “Never Forget.” It is not likely that any of us who lived through that horrible day could forget exactly where we were when it happened and the many tears we shed afterward for people that most of us had never even met.
In the days that followed the attack, when we saw the tiled photos of the hijackers’ faces, we couldn’t help but form an iron connection in our minds between those features and the horror of that day. So, years later, for many of us, when we see people who have features like the attackers, our involuntary response puts us on guard.
As I thought about this, I reached out to pet my dog, forgetting to approach her from under her chin rather than above her head. She flinched. You see, she was abused before we adopted her seven years ago, and although she has no logical reason to fear my hand, she is still wary. It makes me feel sad, because I would never hurt her, but I understand.
It’s not my fault, just because I’m human, that my dog was abused, and it’s not the fault of every person who possesses the features of the 9/11 hijackers, or belongs to their religion, that our country was attacked. To take the concept a bit further, it’s not the fault of every Caucasian that their ancestors subjected other humans to slavery. It’s not my fault, as one who was raised Catholic, that young innocents were victimized by the clergy. Still, we must acknowledge our association with those responsible for evil acts.
Similar to the way that sweet pup associates my hand with pain, many African Americans look at my features and assign a certain identity to me. And when I reveal to anyone that I was raised Catholic, some think less of me, even though they don’t know the harsh treatment I received from certain nuns in Catholic school. But, I understand why they think the way they do.
What I’m trying to say is that I understand the knee-jerk reaction that many of us have when we see someone who reminds us of the 9/11 attackers. We will never forget. We can’t help our initial response, but we do have control over what we do with those feelings.
We must be aware of our surroundings and wise in our interactions with strangers, no matter what they look like, but we can choose to treat everyone we encounter with kindness and respect. The fact that someone belongs to a certain race or religion does not mean they approve of, or will repeat, the actions of those who came before them, but there is a reason why they encounter a measure of guardedness from others, and I hope they can try to understand why.
What do you think? Does this make sense to you? I welcome your thoughts in the comments below.
It does make sense. Growing up in LA, I had every ethnic playmates. It wasn’t until Mexicans were Beaners and I was a Surfer because I had blond hair, forming Junior High mini gangs. And in high school we celebrated Black Day forcing me to see our differences and no longer was the little white girl a friend. Everything was simple and the “same” until it wasn’t. Life, and maybe the press, forces you to look and see differences. I liked it better when we were young and had no labels beyond who skate boarded the best, or who was tether ball champion. That was me.