Ten years ago, my alarm clock was set to the radio. I awoke hearing the newscast and rolled out of bed, took the fabric off the t.v. and plugged it in. World Trade Center... my girlfriend at the time worked at the World Trade Center in Portland OR. I, a time zone away, called her to say that I was glad she didn't work at the WTC in NYC because some idiot had flown their biplane into it. My naivete prevented me from comprehending what was happening. Then the second plane hit.... and soon the black cloud of smoke. I turned off the t.v. and called into work... I was scheduled to interpret in a government office that morning and was certain it would be cancelled. I dressed and drove to my job reluctant to enter a government building. I arrived and five minutes later was sent on my way as they closed for the day.
The next few months were a whirlwind. Red, white, and blue everywhere. People talking about freedom, freedom, freedom. I was disgusted with the patriotism that vomited across our country. That is not to say that I wasn't without sadness and grief with the tragedy that took place and the lives lost. I was reluctant to join the flag waving because so many people were already living on this land who didn't have the same equal rights that "Americans" are supposed to have. As a queer woman I didn't have the same rights as my hetero contemporaries. I still don't.
Despite that, ten years later, I'm married (though not recognized legally) to an amazing woman and have the most beautiful son.
This was part of our 9.11.11
|a kiss for peace|