I was born a couple of years after September 11, 2001, part of a generation with no personal memory that day, but which has never known a world that wasn’t shaped by it.
Growing up in New York made that especially apparent. Something I realized as I got older is that almost everyone seems to know someone who was affected by 9/11. Maybe they knew someone who was in New York City that day, someone who worked near the World Trade Center, a first responder, or someone who lost their life. Even when you didn’t experience the day yourself, you grew up around people who did.
For my generation, 9/11 was something we learned about almost from the moment we were old enough to understand it. Every September, my schools held some kind of remembrance. We watched videos, had classroom discussions, and learned what happened that morning. When I got to college, we were still talking about it.
It was history, but it never felt like distant history.
I think that is one of the biggest differences between learning about 9/11 and learning about events that happened decades or centuries before we were born. The people who experienced 9/11 are our parents, teachers, neighbors and other members of our communities. Their memories make it feel much closer.
I also grew up seeing some of the uglier ways people responded to the tragedy. There were dark jokes about 9/11, and I became aware of the racism and prejudice that Muslim, Middle Eastern, South Asian and other communities faced in its aftermath. It has always bothered me that something that caused so much real pain could become material for a joke or an excuse to target other people.
Then there are the everyday parts of life that my generation simply accepts as normal. My parents have told me how different flying was before 9/11 and how airport security became much more extensive afterward. I have never experienced that earlier version of air travel. Taking off your shoes, going through security screenings and carefully considering what can go into a carry-on have simply always been part of flying for me.
We inherited changes we weren’t there to witness happening.
Twenty-five years later, there is now an entire generation of adults who cannot remember where we were on 9/11 because we weren’t born yet. But that doesn’t mean the day has had no impact on us.
Especially as a New Yorker, I grew up understanding that the 9/11 attacks are part of our history and our collective memory. Eventually, there will be fewer people who can tell us firsthand where they were and what they saw that day. It will be up to generations like mine to continue listening to their stories and remembering them.
I didn’t experience September 11, 2001. But I grew up in the world it left behind, and I don’t think any generation of New Yorkers will ever be completely untouched by it.
The author, a Penn State graduate who lives in the River Towns, is a journalist, writer, and regular River Journal contributor.
