today is 9/11 and i live in new york

I lived in North Carolina on September 11th and I know absolutely no one (that I know of) who was intimately affected by the tragedy except for fictional characters from my favorite books, like Oskar in Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. I refuse to taint this commemorative blog post with mention of the horrible casting choices of Tom Hanks and Sandra Bullock in the film adaptation, except I just did taint it. I think I just like the word taint. Horrible.

I was a sophomore in high school. Three things pervade my memory of that day:

1. A girl told me what had happened before drama class, which meant I was in for an especially dramatic 2nd period. Completely unrelated side note: A few years later, this same girl would remark that her grandmother had died (not on 9/11) and I absent-mindedly said "Oh, how is she? I mean, was she? I mean, oh... I'm so sorry."
2. Another girl, who I absolutely despised (you'll see why) decided to make it all about her and claim that "We were next on the list." We didn't know it then, but she had inside ties to Al Qaeda and had obtained their "list" of places to use planes as bombs, and next on the list after New York City and Washington D.C. was, naturally, Greensboro, N.C. and the oil reserves. (There is a field of about 10 huge structures that apparently hold oil.) Did you know that if someone crashed a plane into the oil reserves in Greensboro that it would be the equivalent of dropping an atomic bomb? Me either! I learned so much on September 11 and I have that stupid ignorant self-centered girl to thank. Look -- I get that everyone reacts to tragedies in different ways, but for fuck's sake, it's Greensboro. Somewhat unrelated side note: Those oil reserves are literally right next to the airport, which means North Carolina could very well experience an atomic-level catastrophe at any moment. Right.
3. I got home from school and my parents were watching television, and that was when I actually saw it and I could not believe it. Remember how they played it over, and over, and over, and over again? Yeah, well with each replay, I felt it getting less real, which I find odd. I remember just sitting on the floor in front of the television and being so silently confused. I am a fairly dramatic person (HA, fairly), and I think people expect me to flip out in situations such as those, but I kind of shut down and lose all ability to speak. I like to think of it as being hyperaware of the fact that everyone is going to remember those kinds of moments, and I don't want to be that stupid person who says something like "We're next on the list."

When you grow up in old, forgotten North Carolina, or you are removed from any tragedy both spatially and emotionally, it's easy to see why people might try to make it about them. I guess they're trying to understand what it must feel like to be there. My experience in the South regarding this tragedy has been "Yeah, it happened and Wal-Mart shares shot up 1,000% on the sale of American-flag themed products alone." I can't imagine what things were like in New York because the city is on another level for me.

I remember the feelings being warm and gooey for a week, and then people got pissed. People were pissed for like, the next eight years. It was hard for me to find love, and I wonder if it's because it's harder to find anything - good or bad - when you're not surrounded by 8 million people all the time.

For a city so expansive, NYC has an unbelievable and oddly strong sense of community. There are days when you go outside and the energy is just different. For me, there's no stronger case for religion or spirituality or all that weird shit I don't believe in besides the very real energy you get by being surrounded by so many people. A collective mood is created and I find it undeniable. I have also been called crazy before, so there's that.

Today made me love New York City more than ever before. I felt that energy and that sense of community.  As I was on the subway home, I sat behind a man and his son and overheard their conversation. I never walk around or sit on the train with my earbuds in anymore, and it is for this exact reason. I heard love.

The son couldn't have been more than seven years old. He asked his dad hundreds of questions in 30 minutes. His dad was a young guy with a flat-rimmed baseball cap, a sleeve of tattoos, and a bag with fish his son had won at a street fair. This is relevant because I clearly made a judgment on his appearance and he turned out to be different from my judgment. 

What I gathered from my eavesdropping is that he and the mother were no longer together when the son noted "You never yell at me or push me to do things I don't want to do. You always ask and you never raise your voice."

"Does Mom yell?"

"No, but she gets very loud."

"Sometimes you have to get loud so people will hear you."

"Yes, that's true."

Besides a brief family history, what I gathered was nothing particularly profound about their conversation other than the love that he felt for his son and that his son returned to him. He never said "I love you," or made emotional statements, really. In fact, it was very mundane and boring. In fact fact, you probably think I'm crazy for arriving at such a conclusion based on the boringness of the conversation, but I don't care what you think. I could just feel it. I felt it when the kid looked through the blacked out window as we weaved through the tunnels, and seemed surprised and elated to see his dad's reflection. "Hi Dad!!"

When my Dad visited me in the city for the first time this May, he would not shut up about the litter. I have never really noticed the litter -- or maybe I saw it and chose to look for the things that are beautiful instead. He hated the graffiti, which I saw as art. He hated hearing other people's conversations. I live for eavesdropping and people watching. There are people everywhere and you're forced to interact with them and, sure, some are bad but they make the good better. Like the time my boyfriend and I were almost hate crimed - it was scary and shouldn't have happened, but it made me hold his hand tighter than before. I can't fathom how you don't fall in love with a place like this.

Love is everywhere here and not a day goes by that I don't see it in some form. This must be why I can't imagine what 9/11 was like here. What I do know is that no matter how awful it got, love found a way to show itself. That's New York City.