9/11
I initially wrote this on September 11 of this year but I never felt the urge to post it. Though, with all the hate I'm seeing these days based on discrimination, I really feel the need to post this.
I was in first grade that day. I remember my teacher talking on her phone, look out the window and then start crying. I remember going home early that day. I remember everyone was strangely quiet. I remember sitting alongside my parents all day, all week with eyes glued to the TV. The months following that day, I remember singing songs in music class which had the lyrics:
"We're not going to be knocked down
No no
Were going to re-cooperate
Those who act in fear are stronger than those who act in blind revenge."
I still remember the beat and rhythm of that song because we sang it more than any other song all through elementary school while we had to wear white shirts with the American flag printed on them.
That day was September 11, 2001. The years following up til fifth grade, I remember reading stories about 9/11 victims in the NY post everyday. I remember commercials for these special coins that were made as tribute. I remember 9/11 being a tragedy and it was something that we were told to never forgot.
Outside of school, I remember how our family friends would gather and I'd sit with my mom and all the other aunties while they talked about kids with Islamic names being attacked and how a kid named Osama was killed. I remember being told about the hatred but as long as I lived in New York, I was never subjected to that hatred and the mere thought of it was an impossible idea to grasp. I suppose I was never subjected to the racial hate because I had up grown up in front of those teachers; I was there since pre-school and I had made friends who could never see me any other way.
Though, everything changed when I started seventh grade. That year, we had to move to another state; South Carolina. I remember it being the worst year of my life and the only time I was ever hated for something that I had nothing to do with. I was never subjected to hatred before and that year broke me.
In South Carolina, I went to a public school in which I was the only Pakistani and only Muslim. I remember a family friend who had lived in South Carolina all his life, he was in a private school with other Pakistanis and I remember him telling me to never tell anyone I was Pakistani and to just say I was Indian. I called him an idiot and payed no attention to his words.
The first month of school went by and I was the shy, quiet, new girl who spent all her time in the library which was fine by me. I was hardly noticed by anyone until one day when I was sitting in the school lunch room with my homeroom class on our assigned table. This boy asked me "Yo, are you Muslim?" I nodded. Everyone at the table was looking at me and no one really said anything. Then the boy spoke again, this time he said "Does your dad make bombs in your kitchen?" I remember how EVERYONE laughed at that. I also remember how that boy begin to rap about how I was a terrorist. Most of all, I remember crying and crying all the weeks and months following that day. I remember being called a terrorist for all of seventh grade. We ended up moving back to New York because you can't expect not to be broken after people told you to kill yourself.
Today is September 11, 2013. It holds a special meaning to me. Its close to my heart because since I was a baby up til the time I was a teenager, I was taught to always remember that day. Though, it also has another meaning for me. Until 2007, I was innocent when it came to hatred because I was never subjected to it and never before could I understand why someone could hate a whole nation for the actions of one. Not until I was emotionally abused did I understand all the stories I was told. September 11 represents a lot of things for me. It represents the hope I was brought up with and it represents the hatred that broke me down. It reminds me of all the unity I witnessed and was part of but it also reminds me of how I was treated as a foreign entity without any emotions.
People die everyday. We see bomb blasts, shootings and acts of hatred. People are killed and family's are broken. So today, if you find yourself praying then pray for all the innocent people who died because of acts of hatred but more importantly, pray for all the people who are targeted because of their race, religion, ethnicity and beliefs.
The world is a cruel place but it doesn't have to be.
I was in first grade that day. I remember my teacher talking on her phone, look out the window and then start crying. I remember going home early that day. I remember everyone was strangely quiet. I remember sitting alongside my parents all day, all week with eyes glued to the TV. The months following that day, I remember singing songs in music class which had the lyrics:
"We're not going to be knocked down
No no
Were going to re-cooperate
Those who act in fear are stronger than those who act in blind revenge."
I still remember the beat and rhythm of that song because we sang it more than any other song all through elementary school while we had to wear white shirts with the American flag printed on them.
That day was September 11, 2001. The years following up til fifth grade, I remember reading stories about 9/11 victims in the NY post everyday. I remember commercials for these special coins that were made as tribute. I remember 9/11 being a tragedy and it was something that we were told to never forgot.
Outside of school, I remember how our family friends would gather and I'd sit with my mom and all the other aunties while they talked about kids with Islamic names being attacked and how a kid named Osama was killed. I remember being told about the hatred but as long as I lived in New York, I was never subjected to that hatred and the mere thought of it was an impossible idea to grasp. I suppose I was never subjected to the racial hate because I had up grown up in front of those teachers; I was there since pre-school and I had made friends who could never see me any other way.
Though, everything changed when I started seventh grade. That year, we had to move to another state; South Carolina. I remember it being the worst year of my life and the only time I was ever hated for something that I had nothing to do with. I was never subjected to hatred before and that year broke me.
In South Carolina, I went to a public school in which I was the only Pakistani and only Muslim. I remember a family friend who had lived in South Carolina all his life, he was in a private school with other Pakistanis and I remember him telling me to never tell anyone I was Pakistani and to just say I was Indian. I called him an idiot and payed no attention to his words.
The first month of school went by and I was the shy, quiet, new girl who spent all her time in the library which was fine by me. I was hardly noticed by anyone until one day when I was sitting in the school lunch room with my homeroom class on our assigned table. This boy asked me "Yo, are you Muslim?" I nodded. Everyone at the table was looking at me and no one really said anything. Then the boy spoke again, this time he said "Does your dad make bombs in your kitchen?" I remember how EVERYONE laughed at that. I also remember how that boy begin to rap about how I was a terrorist. Most of all, I remember crying and crying all the weeks and months following that day. I remember being called a terrorist for all of seventh grade. We ended up moving back to New York because you can't expect not to be broken after people told you to kill yourself.
Today is September 11, 2013. It holds a special meaning to me. Its close to my heart because since I was a baby up til the time I was a teenager, I was taught to always remember that day. Though, it also has another meaning for me. Until 2007, I was innocent when it came to hatred because I was never subjected to it and never before could I understand why someone could hate a whole nation for the actions of one. Not until I was emotionally abused did I understand all the stories I was told. September 11 represents a lot of things for me. It represents the hope I was brought up with and it represents the hatred that broke me down. It reminds me of all the unity I witnessed and was part of but it also reminds me of how I was treated as a foreign entity without any emotions.
People die everyday. We see bomb blasts, shootings and acts of hatred. People are killed and family's are broken. So today, if you find yourself praying then pray for all the innocent people who died because of acts of hatred but more importantly, pray for all the people who are targeted because of their race, religion, ethnicity and beliefs.
The world is a cruel place but it doesn't have to be.
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