Where were you?

Today in class, I asked my students if they remembered September 11, 2001. All of them were either in 1st or 2nd grade, and many of them remembered parents and teachers crying and being glued to the TV. One of my students said his mom told him the people jumping out of the towers were landing on trampolines, I guess in an attempt to shield his innocent heart from pain. I told them how I was a junior in high school, their own age now, and saw the plane sticking out of the tower on a TV in my school's library. It seemed like a bad movie. For the rest of the day, we watched the horror unfold, people leaping from the towers, the towers ultimately falling, hearing about the pentagon. My dad rushed out that afternoon to buy an American flag, embarrassed that we didn't own one to fly in remembrance.

As I spoke with my students today, it dawned on me that in the past ten years, I rarely, if ever, recall September 11. I don't pray for the families who lost so much, or who still suffer with sick family members who fell ill from inhaling the dust and debris during rescue attempts. I don't pray for mothers and fathers who lost all their children that day, or for wives and husbands who lost their spouses. I forget that many children are growing up one parent short because of that fateful day and the aftermath that followed. One of my students thanked me after class for letting them talk about their memories and honor those lost in the towers. Another of my students teared up and grabbed a friend's hand while listening to a little boy's oral history about losing his "Pop-pop" and wishing he could tell his grandad how much he loved him. On a Friday, a day the students are normally so antsy, chatty, and ready for the weekend, my students sat in silence and listened to these oral histories, these voices releasing their pain and asking others to remember their loved ones. The sorrow of this tragedy weighed on my students, as it did me.

The truth is, I wouldn't have thought to do anything if a parent hadn't emailed me a reminder to honor the memory of 9/11 victims. How soon we forget. I can only imagine the worst part of losing someone in a tragedy is that you feel like the world forgets about that person who was so dear to you and who was snatched away so abruptly.

NPR is gathering oral histories of victims' families and friends to help honor those lost in 9/11. Click here to listen to some of their stories and to remember and honor those who lost their lives.Scroll down to the bottom of that article to see many stories from those remembering 9/11. Click here to see NPR's special series reflecting on 9/11.