I don’t think much about the Fall of 2002. It’s hard to avoid the anniversary of September 11th, but that was just the beginning of the terror. A week later, the post office that handled all of my office mail was closed because of anthrax. People were getting sick (and dying) from the mail. We had to open envelopes wearing rubber gloves,* just to be safe. People were talking about dirty bombs, and I carried Cipro with me to work.

I’m sure I’m not the only one who felt on edge for months after these two events. Honestly, I don’t know if I ever relaxed enough for things to feel “back to normal.” Then, just over a year later, the shootings began. They were completely random: gender, race and age didn’t seem to matter. I tried to tell myself not to feel paranoid, but the fact was that people were being hunted. It was awful. I thought twice about taking a walk during my lunch break. I was nervous about pumping gas. My husband picked me up at the train station so I didn’t have to make the long walk to my car in a parking lot surrounded by trees.

Today that chapter is scheduled to close, but I don’t feel any closure. In fact, I don’t feel much of anything at all.

I try not to think about those events. I am so damn tired of feeling terrorized. That whole mentality of “go on with your everyday life so the terrorists don’t win” is just crap. You go on with life because it’s life. The memories of fear and anger are always inside somewhere.

I just choose to focus on happiness and optimism instead.

*Comic relief: When my coworker bought gloves for opening the mail, she bought the powdered kind. How are we supposed to look for white powder in the mail if we’re wearing gloves covered with white powder? It was just what we needed to break the tension and stress. We laughed until we had tears in our eyes. Ok, maybe you had to be there.

I know today is the day that we are supposed to talk about the heros of September of 11th. Last month I read Three Cups of Tea and discovered another hero. He wasn’t in America on that day. He was in Pakistan building schools to educate children, especially girls, in the remote villages of that country.

From CNN’s website:

Since 1996, [Greg] Mortenson has helped build 78 schools for children in Pakistan and Afghanistan through the nonprofit group, the Central Asia Institute. The group’s premise: books, not bombs, are the best weapons against extremist groups like the Taliban.

“The real enemy is ignorance and ignorance breeds hatred,” he said.

The schools encourage girls to enroll. The ultimate goal: produce educated girls who, when they become mothers, will teach tolerance to their sons.

“You can drop bombs, you can build roads, but if you don’t educate girls, the society is not going to change.”

I’ve been thinking a lot about America just after the attacks. We were one country. We put partisanship aside and worked for the greater good.

Eight years later I feel like we’ve hit an all time low. People yell in town hall meetings instead of discussing. Politicians attempt to mislead the pubic to further their own agendas. They also feel it is ok to disrespect the President. Citizens let news personalities, whose goals are increased ratings, shape their thinking instead of seeking out the facts.

I think about the people in Mortenson’s book. The villagers who carried wood and cement on their backs for 18 miles to build a school in their village. The children who use the walls of bombed out buildings to block the wind so they can write their school lessons in the dirt. The men who rode for two days on horseback from Afghanistan to Pakistan to find “Dr. Greg” and ask him to build a school for their children.

Then I turn on the television and watch nighttime cable shows sling mud at each other and wonder:

Can’t we find a better use for Glenn Beck’s chalkboard?

Sites that inspire me right now:

girleffect.org — flash movie with music. you can turn the music off.
threecupsoftea.com — website about the book
ikat.org — Central Asia Institute
cnn article — American mountaineer fights Taliban with books, not bombs