Remembering 9/11 and Pledging Peace

Yesterday, my son asked, “Is anyone afraid that we are flying to New York tomorrow?”
My wife and I looked at each other.
She replied, “No, we’ll be fine.”
I revised this post on a plane en route to New York. While some of the cabin’s passengers slept, enjoyed movies, or ate, I wrote.
Much has changed since 9/11/2001 in the United States, but some terrorist threats remain. Artificial Intelligence thinks for us, religious divisions divide, and conflicts with countries in the Near East continue. The White House has housed presidents with different politics and similar agendas.
Pennsylvania Avenue’s latest occupant authorizes airplane decoys, renames lakes, and antagonizes America’s antagonists.
Like many of us, I can remember my location and the emotions of 9/11. I sat in a barbershop in a south suburb of Chicago. Although I stayed still, fear moved through my body as footage of the planes hitting the World Trade Center aired on a TV.
As the clippers buzzed around my ears, the moment and chaos that followed the attacks formed memories I want to forget. Never had war seemed so imminent in my life.
I was an eighteen-year-old college freshman and worked at a mall. While I had witnessed neighborhood violence, the 9/11 tragedy shifted my worldview. My studies and job didn’t hold as much value as they did on September 10, 2001.
Instead of hip-hop, I listened to the news and drove to work after I left the barbershop on 9/11.
I remember the fearful conversations with coworkers and discussions about closing the mall early. The country was on high alert for additional attacks. I finished my shift and went home, where I talked more about terrorism with family and friends.
Everyone expressed concerns.
Children, men, women, firemen, policewomen, fathers, mothers, people from diverse communities died twenty-five years ago today. It was a tragedy.
Unlike JD Vance, we shouldn’t “celebrate 9/11,” but remember the lives lost and decide how to prevent similar catastrophes from happening again. Engaging in more wars or providing weapons to rebel groups will not solve world conflicts.
Instead of aiming artillery to annihilate differences, how about we aim to achieve world peace?
In the 24 hours after September 11th, I was carried away by the patriotism that swept through the country. I almost put an American flag sticker on my car’s window. In the immediate aftermath of the attacks, divisions along race, class, gender, age, ability, and sexuality lines vanished.
Soon after, life in the United States continued. Students returned to school, employees went to work, and Mosques received hate-filled threats. Later, we learned of the relationship between the US government, the CIA, and Osama bin Laden.
I criticized the politics that corresponded with the loss of innocent lives. My undergraduate major in Black Studies and the Chicago open-mic poetry scene shaped my political consciousness. Muslim hate speech and media claims of “they’re threatened by our freedom” did not hold weight.
Poets, commentators, and professors challenged me to find the truth beyond mainstream media messages and counter-conspiracies. My studies inspired me to write poems. I kept some and put them in a book.
Today, September 11, 2026, we can make pledges to peace and forge new pathways to appreciate cultural differences. The president will not do it for us.
We must do it for ourselves, our families, and our communities.
Before we boarded our flight to New York, I shared my son’s concerns that someone might want to repeat 9/11. America’s current political actions have attracted more enemies than allies. But give thanks, we arrived at JFK Airport without a problem.
Inside the terminals today, people stood in line for coffee, and others hustled between gates to leave for various destinations.
My family made our connecting flight to move abroad once again.
Soon, I will share more about the decision to leave the United States. In the meantime, subscribe to this blog, buy a book, enroll in a course, or inquire about leadership development coaching.





Comments