I Remember
While it’s not a flashbulb memory in the strict sense, I still remember where I was I found out.
I had shown up for my intro to social psych course with Professor Jeremy Freese with no idea that anything had happened. Back in those days, I simply got out of bed ten, maybe fifteen minutes before class, threw on some clothes and brushed my teeth, grabbed my backpack, and ran. My first indication that anything at all was amiss in the world was when Professor Freese announced that, due to events in New York, he was making a one-day exception in his strict anti-cell phone policy for anyone who was waiting to hear from someone. And then we pretty much had class as normal, except for one cell phone ring and the girl who ran out of the room to take the call. Professor Freese briefly discusses his own memory of that day here.
After class, I went home and turned on the tv, wondering what was happening in New York. I believe my first response was, “Holy shit.”
And I remember thinking, as I sat alone in my dorm room watching video of the towers coming down, that this was an act of war and that someone had to pay.
It became clear in the days that followed that an awful lot of people had a twisted version of the same thought. Someone had to pay. Not anyone in particular, just someone. Preferably someone who reminded us of the hijackers in some vague way. Madison wasn’t the most tolerant campus in the best of times, and these were far from the best of times.
A friend of mine, Muslim, and one of the multicultural liaisons on campus, told horror stories. Women in headscarves being forced off the campus bus. Students who had their dormitory doors graffitied and urinated on because they looked middle eastern. Upon hearing about yet another wave of hatred, my roommate and I tried to figure out which was worse: that Arab students were being beaten up over this, or that Hispanic students were being beaten up over this. It did stop eventually, and campus mostly re-united under the then-highly-unpopular banner of anti-war.
Six years later, anti-war is the prevailing wind.
Six years later, at 8:46am, I was getting out of bed, much earlier than I did that day. At 9:02, I was trying to decide what to wear. At 9:37, I was standing outside in the pouring rain waiting for the bus to campus. At 9:59, I was in my office, printing today’s quiz and lab sheet for my students. At 10:03, I was on my way to pick up the biohazard containers for today’s lab waste. At 10:28, I was writing the lab instructions on the chalkboard for my class. Somewhere in there I commented to a friend that I couldn’t believe it had been six years. But it wasn’t until passing the half-staff flag on my way out of the office and to the bus that I really paused to remember.
Chipanglish
CogKnition
Gustatory Circuit
In retrospect, I’m still amazed that I taught class that day. I’m pretty sure if I had seen it on TV myself rather than receive a phone call about it, I wouldn’t have.