Simple as a Rose

It's the very first thing I remember. I was three years old.

One day, for so many people across the country, will forever stand out as the single moment where the American narrative changed. The one day where what being an American meant was drastically altered.

It was a day of pain, fear, sadness, fright, and confusion all rolled into just a few morning hours.

We, as a nation, are fortunate to have come so far from that moment, but we, especially as New Yorkers, will never forget September 11, 2001.

For years after the attack, there were many questions about how to memorialize the lives that were lost in the World Trade Center that morning. The memorial needed to symbolize the deep and profound sense of loss - a heavy weight that we all carry with us. The design was selected from an international competition of almost 5,200 plans. Opened in September 2011 the memorial, two large reflecting pools, as a whole represents what was lost that day, but also what was overcome. The names of each person who died in the 1993 and 2001 attacks are engraved on the surrounds of the pools and the single tree that survived the attack remains at the site.

Every time I have the opportunity to visit the memorial, I am struck by the heaviness of silence and sadness that shroud the entire block. I've traced the names on the pool surrounds and I've sketched the trees. I've been hugged by strangers who go there to commemorate the lives of their loved ones. And every time I'm there, there are the roses. Groups of volunteers who keep track of the birthdays of the victims and place a rose in their name as a sign of remembrance. They're always white roses - symbolizing remembrance and standing out like a beacon in the midst of grey and black sadness. All it takes is one rose, one little pin prick of white, for us to remember that there is still hope and strength in all that is lost.

My senior year of high school, I sat in on an AP Language class that was studying the media surrounding the September 11th attacks. They looked at news reports, photos, word clouds, interviews, and a song which was the teacher’s addition to the study. She said she would never forget the song for as long as she lived. She would never forget the song because it was what she was listening to as she made her way to school, the very same high school in which she was teaching, on the morning of September 11th. The song was “Lonely Day” by Phantom Planet and she played it for her class… “I could tell from the minute I woke up/It was going to be a lonely lonely lonely lonely day/It was going to be a lonely lonely lonely lonely day/Everybody knows that something’s wrong/But nobody knows what's going on.”

As a three year old, I don’t have the best insight on the complete happenings of the day. But I do remember it. I remember my mom trying to take me to preschool and hearing what was happening on NPR. She turned around and took me home. And all day we sat together, fridge humming in the background, watching the news. That was my experience. Just one in the millions of people directly and indirectly affected.

People may have woken up knowing that something was wrong that morning. That something was different and going to change. And for some it may have been a very lonely day of suffering and sorrow. But a dozen years later, it was a moment of conversion for the country. An experience that drew us all closer together and united us under national ideology and strength. Even now those lost are not alone. They remain as beacons of hope and faith. Their white roses a symbol of that for all - friends, family, and visitors - to see.