Yeah guys, sorry to be a downer. But my Facebook feed is already starting to blow up and I have some thoughts.
Without fully reliving the "where were you" moment because that kind of talk just makes me sad, at the time I lived close enough to NYC that many people in my community lost loved ones, but not actually in NYC. As a teenager just starting to become more aware of the world, 9/11 was a very defining event in my life.
I now live in Jersey City and commute through WTC on a daily basis. During rush hour it's just all businesspeople, but in off hours I'm frequently annoyed by the activity there. Mostly because of the street vendors who hawk all kinds of wares capitalizing on the loss that day. Huge glossy photos of the burning buildings, pictures of the rubble, etc. It's very tasteless and offensive IMO. I also get irrationally bothered by the hordes of European tourists. To me, WTC is not a tourist destination. It's hard to pin down-- it's a place for reflection and paying respects, yes. Not gawking and taking selfies. And at this point, it's also a place for moving on. One World Trade is up and it's beautiful. The skyline is starting to heal. I just feel like with these jerks always selling exploitative materials, and so many tourists, downtown is always going to be stuck in September 2001 in some ways.
Do you do anything in particular to recognize 9/11? What do you think of the yearly memorials-- does your Facebook get flooded too, or is this only a New York thing?
ETA: After discussing for a bit, I realized both the discussion and my own framing of the issue are more focused on the societal effects of the attacks and not necessarily on the individual loss of life. Because I know at least one person around these parts who lost a close family member, I want to point out that I'm aware the magnitude of the event for the rest of us just can't compare. Sometimes I think (for me, too) the individual lives get sort of lost in the larger picture. On 9/11 I reflect not only on the many geopolitical changes since that day, but also on the loss of life and continued pain of the families.
"I'm not a rude bitch. I'm ten rude bitches in a large coat."