A DAY OF REMEMBRANCE
A Day of Resilience
FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 14, 2001
A Day of Resilience
FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 14, 2001
Tuesday, September 11, 2001 was the most difficult day in my career as a high school principal. Our world was crumbling and shaken to the core and so was I and my high school was no different than any other high school in the country. I had to take care of 1200 students and 100 staff and hundreds of panicked parents. And still try to keep instruction going. We barely got through the day but we did. And fortunately, we did not suffer any direct loses. Thanks to the wonderful leadership of our social studies teachers, they helped the students stay focused on staying just and honorable. There were lots of productive discussions on maintaining the spirit of our constitution. But we still all walked on egg shells.
Then, two days later, President Bush asked for us to have a Day of Remembrance for our fallen citizens. So we spent the day on Friday in multiple events of honor. Four students were assigned to lead a moment of silence that would be broadcasted at various times throughout the day. Sam, who had recently lost her dad, started us off with a moment of silence for fallen family members. Ryan, who had just earned his Eagles badge, offered a moment to our fire fighters and police officers and all the other public servants who were helping us through this tragedy. Then Heather, our president of student council, offered a moment of silence to President Bush. We knew that the whole world was watching his leadership. A lot of responsibility rested on his shoulders. And then we ended the day with a reflection on tolerance. I asked a student who was of Indian decent to lead this thought. I didn’t know her religious background. She could have been Muslim. But we are from a predominately Christian school so the probability was greater that she was a Christian. Who knows what was her background and now was not the time to ask? But in the same vain, I worried that if she were Muslim, would this anger the other students and ruin the moment.
As we drew closer to the hour when she would step up to the microphone, I started to get cold feet. What if she is Muslim? Was I using this young woman at the wrong time? Was she too young to understand the complexity of the moment? Was this too much to ask of her, after all, she was only 17 years old. Should I have picked a Caucasian student to deliver the message of tolerance? So I called Noreen to my office just to check in with her.
As we drew closer to the hour when she would step up to the microphone, I started to get cold feet. What if she is Muslim? Was I using this young woman at the wrong time? Was she too young to understand the complexity of the moment? Was this too much to ask of her, after all, she was only 17 years old. Should I have picked a Caucasian student to deliver the message of tolerance? So I called Noreen to my office just to check in with her.
She appeared out of nowhere at the door and the direct sunlight blinded her face. So I could only see her silhouette, devoid of race, gender, ethnic background. In the direct, bold sunlight, she was just a person, speaking to me with a trembling voice and an honesty that was bone chilling. “You will never understand what this moment has meant to me. I will never be able to thank you”. And then she vanished from my sight.
Later that day, she spoke to her classmates with a confidence and a sincerely that was admirable. She spoke without judgment or anger and her message received cheers from the students. It was a great moment.
A few months later, she gave me a very expensive Christmas gift and I knew she just wanted to somehow quantify the importance of the moment. A moment that I will never forget.
A few months later, she gave me a very expensive Christmas gift and I knew she just wanted to somehow quantify the importance of the moment. A moment that I will never forget.
