September 11, 2001: What It Means 10 Years Later.

We are on the eve of the 10th anniversary of September 11, 2001. The nation is poised to memorialize the attacks on the World Trade Center, the Pentagon, and United Flight 91, but there is no clarity in how we plan to mark the occasion. On September 11, 2001, the nation was joined in shock, fear, anger and empathy. Ten years later, those events have not stayed in focus as a clear, shared experience with a single meaning. How, as a nation, is it appropriate to memorialize these attacks, and the events that have followed in these past 10 years?

I see three parts to this question: what September 11, 2001 means to Americans as an experience, what have we done since September 11, 2001 as a result of those events, and what do we want to do to memorialize September 11, 20011?

September 11th does not- cannot-mean - the same thing to all Americans. To some three thousand families, it means the loss of a loved one. For a city, it means remembering a time of real personal fear. For many more, a time of heroism and courage. For the nation as a whole it means a feeling of vulnerability- a feeling which has lessened for most but not all. For some Americans it meant a fear, mistrust and anger that did not subside. So for some, the day is about memories of those who perished, and the first responders who ran towards collapsing buildings while others ran away. For others, a significant portion of Americans, September 11th means something more sinister, the beginning of a new world tainted by terror- external and internal.

Since September 11, 2001, we have commenced an endless war. A war against an an amorphous, faceless, stateless enemy, and as much as anything else, an idea: terror. Afghanistan is America’s longest war. While we have "drawn down” combat operations in Iraq, there is still a significant troop presence. Foreign policy discussions often hinge on which Middle Eastern nations is the next potential contender as a host state to our next military adventure. Drone bombings continue in Pakistan, and have left thousands dead. Americans have willingly relinquished myriad civil rights, allowing for the inception and renewal of The Patriot Act, allowing and even advocating torture, extraordinary rendition, “black sites” all over the world, the use of Guantanamo Bay and secret military tribunals, and severely increased domestic surveillance.

At the same time, our troops are captive in endless tours of duty. When they return as veterans, they are cast aside, receiving insufficient care and benefits. So too are the first responders from September 11, 2001, cast aside. Their persistent medical and psychological problems are ignored and uncared for, their repayment for their service are empty honorifics.

We have demonized a religion. We have fought a sloppy war, both on the battlefield and in the public mind, against Islam. Where before there was no understanding, now there is misunderstanding. We have, out of carelessness, cast ourselves as enemies of a diverse, complex and multifarious religion, and abandoned our national identity as civil libertarians.

When we look at what we have done since September 11, 2001, we see we are no better. We are worse.

How will we honor the 10th anniversary of September 11, 2001? Will we talk collectively about where we were? Will we watch cable news run handheld footage of rolling plumes of dust carpeting lower Manhattan and ceaseless replays of the impact of the planes? Will we celebrate our victories over cloudy enemies we have only half conceived? I believe we will. But we also have an imperative to examine who we are after these attacks, and take serious stock of where we want to be. We do not want to be worse in 10 years, we want to be better.