This Saturday will mark the 20th anniversary of the September 11th attack on the United States, better known as 9-11. I want to first pay homage to those who lost their lives as innocent targets of the attack and to those who gave their lives trying to save others. While New York was the only state that experienced extensive physical disruptions, we can all agree that the entire country felt the impact. Most importantly, it changed my whole perspective upon my role as a teacher.
There is one thing to be the designated safety person at your corporate office, tasked with the duty of directing your fellow adult colleagues out of the building. It’s another when you have the lives of several young people looking to you for direction, protection, and comfort in the midst of an emergency. That became my scariest reality on 9-11.
When I was a teacher, I believed in not only being physically prepared for my students, but mentally as well. That is why I made it a habit to arrive to work an hour before school started. On most days, I was the first staff member in the building besides the janitors. I would use this time to write my lesson on the board, grade papers, or organize my classroom. I relished in the serenity of quiet before the throngs of young bodies filled the halls
On the morning of 9-11 nothing seemed out of the ordinary when I woke up. I left my Brooklyn apartment at 6:00AM, taking the same train that carried me every work day underneath the World Trade Center (WTC) to my connecting train. School started around 8:00AM. It was during second period that one of my coworkers came to my class to inform me that the U.S. was under attack and a plane just struck the WTC. Since that teacher was known to be a pessimist and conspiracy theorist, what she said had no bearing on me. It went in one ear and out the other. It was during 3rd period that the main office interrupted classes twice for early dismissals of individual students. Still, there was nothing really suspicious to consider. It wasn’t until another colleague of mine came to confirm that a plane did fly into the WTC that I got a little curious. In my mind it was just a plane crash, no need to stress.
My first break came at 4th period which started around 10:30AM. I high tailed it to the only room that had a television to watch the event unfold. My fellow colleague and friend, happened to be in the room along with the conspiracy theorist and the teacher whose classroom we were in. I sat in shock as I watched this infamous landmark burn and people jump to their death. When the conspiracy theorist announced that the buildings were going to fall, I adamantly refuted it in denial. When it was finally confirmed that this was indeed a terrorist attack, I could feel my heart beating through my chest. Right before the period ended, I watched in horror as both buildings, one at a time, collapsed to the ground. My body pulsated with fear.
When the bell rang, I walked back to my class in a trance. I was truly having an outer body experience unable to compartmentalize what was happening. Regardless of what was going on in the world I had to get it together. It was now time to face thirty, 12-year-olds with the knowledge I just acquired and teach as if nothing was going on.
Fifth period began with no problems. About ten minutes in, the early dismissal interruptions began again. This time with a longer list of names and more frequency. Before the end of the period parents began to rush into classrooms, directing their children and sometimes a neighbor’s child to come with them. I had no control or say about the situation. At this point, the children were aware something was wrong and it was up to each individual teacher to figure out how to address them. How do you inform young children about a tragedy such as this? I did my best to quell their fears.
All city schools outside of the boundaries of the WTC, were ordered to stay open for the safety of the children. Teachers could not reach their own children in order to care for their students. The City of New York, meaning the five boroughs, along with Long Island and parts of Northern Jersey were completely disrupted because of the interruption to the transportation system. The WTC was a major hub and transfer point for several train lines, including the PATH trains that led into New Jersey. This meant the commute home was going to be a nightmare.
By the end of the day most classes had a skeleton roster of students left. The administration called on the teachers to escort them home. Since I did not have a car, and was unfamiliar with the Bronx, it was unsafe for me to volunteer my assistance, which I would have done.
At this point we heard the stories of people car pooling with strangers to get home. Others walked across the many bridges that connected the islands of New York and the mainland. Unsure if this would be my fate, my friend and I walked around the corner to Southern Boulevard, a major hub for shopping, and by chance Payless Shoes was one of the few stores still open. I purchased a pair of sneakers and began my trek home.
Having already mapped out the best route in my mind, I was prepared to take the 3rd Street Bridge into Manhattan, then try to catch a bus, a cab, walk, or hitchhike my way to the Triborough Bridge and walk across into Queens. From there I would have to figure out the bus system to make it to my section of Brooklyn. I estimated that I would have reached home sometime between 8:00PM and midnight. Thankfully, a makeshift train system was in place and some trains were back up and running. I was able to catch the 6 train into Manhattan then connect to three other trains to get home. That was two more trains than my normal commute. It took 2 ½ hours, but under the circumstances that was a slight inconvenience.
Here is a clear example of why having a strong infrastructure makes sense. It allows a city to have experts in place and the man power to shape shift an impossible situation. Regardless of the emergency, all U.S. cities should be able to recalibrate on the drop of a dime to accommodate its citizens, which is what NYC did. As a native, I have lived through blizzards, a major black out, extreme weather, an earthquake, and a terrorist attack, and yet, the city was always up and running by the next day.
With one day off from school, the teachers returned to a mandatory morning meeting while the students had a late start. We learned that two of our students lost parents who were employed in the WTC. We discussed how we needed to handle the situation with care and compassion. Then we were told social workers were available for the students. I remember whispering to my colleague, “What about the teachers? I need counseling.”
Before the students arrived, the teachers had a moment to swap stories. One of my colleagues shared how he escorted a child home after the tragedy and when the parent opened the door, she was obviously high off drugs and completely unaware that we had been attacked. It was well past the time for the child to be home and there was no concern from the parent. My colleague was afraid to leave the child, but he had no choice. Another colleague shared how he was making his way in that morning from one of the suburbs outside the Bronx. As he was about to enter an underpass on the highway, traffic suddenly came to a standstill. A black hawk helicopter appeared from within the underpass, flying at high speed, scaring him. He thought the country was under another attack. I then shared how I hadn’t slept the past two nights from listening to the sounds of fighter jets whisk above the skies, surveilling the area for more attackers.
I can go on and on about my experience in the aftermath of this tragedy, but the point I wanted to make is that teachers go beyond the call of duty when tragedy strikes. I can only imagine the long-term effects of what those teachers had to endure who taught at Columbine, Sandy Hook, and every other school where a shooting took place. When you drop your child off to school there is a certain duty of care that every staff member in that school has to adhere to. That is why I cannot understand the callousness of those parents and legislators who refuse the mandates of mask wearing for this school year. We are still in the middle of a pandemic, but the hope is that with precautions like mask wearing, we can beat this thing. We should be thankful that the schools are even open. A few more months or even another school year of mask wearing can make the difference in us returning to life as we know it. Let’s not forget that not only is your child’s life at stake, but so are the lives of everyone else around them.
By: Paige Adams
A Paige from my Book 