Long Overdue

Times Square, via The New York Times.

It's a strange feeling to sit in the exact same place, nearly ten years later, and see online that there is breaking news regarding Sept. 11, 2001.

On Sept. 11, 2001, I was 20 years old and living at my parents' house in an interim of my life. Now? May 1, 2011, I am 30 years old, and staying at my parents' home, affectionately called Casa de Chaos, as I prepare for the next race to begin.

On the morning of Sept. 11, 2001, I was late for ballet class. I danced every Tuesday and Thursday morning, from 9 until noon, but on that particular morning I was more concerned about writing an email to the person I was dating at the time. So, dressed in my standard ballet outfit -- rose coloured tights, black leotard, hair in a tight bun -- I curled up in my old armchair with my clunky laptop balanced on my knees and an open news tab to check celebrity gossip. That's where I saw the news the first plane crashed into the World Trade Center.

Tonight, the country road is quiet, the night is chilly, the house is still. I'm the only one awake, curled up in my sweatpants on an old green armchair, my laptop on perched knees. It's not the same laptop, my current much-loved Macbook replaced the clunky HP that rested under fingers that morning, but the room, the quiet, the sound of clicking keys and an open news tab are all here.

The news of Osama bin Laden's death has caused cheering in the streets in New York City and in front of the White House. London slumbers, but come morning the news will break; the 2005 tube attacks will certainly be on the collective mind.

For years, the US has been marred in wars that have no victory. There has been no V-Day, no justice nor resolve for the attacks on Sept. 11. What there has been is the needless, horrific Iraq war, the US divided into absolutes of "us" vs. "them" (with the "them" ranging from stranger to neighbor, colleague, family) by a hateful climate that penetrated every aspect of media, and a political movement that sought to use fear to manipulate the voting public.

Cheering in the streets is the one thing we haven't been able to do yet.

It's an emotional night, and one that will lead to questions in the morning. What happens next? What will the complications and retaliations be? Will something worse come along?
We can't know tonight. For now, some will cheer, some will sleep, some will shrug and could care less, some will cry.

For me, I'll shift the weight off my knees, turn off the television. Publish these words. And remember this muddled quote: "I've never wished a man dead, but I have read some obituaries with great satisfaction."