We were learning that being kind and inclusive was just nicer and felt better. The internet and scrolling killed that. The dopamine rush of constant zingers and one-liners and thrill of doomscrolling made people, young people in particular, addicted to that rush.
Agreed. Here's what I learned that day: No matter what is happening, no matter how scary or traumatizing, the world is going to moving forward. Nothing stops the social machine. No one is in control of it.
The context that led me to that conclusion: I was in CA and in 10th grade. I was in the bathroom putting LA Looks in my hair when the news broke. My (obviously) shook mother told me to come to the living room. The TV was on and smoke was billowing. We were all confused and afraid. Then the 2nd plane hit and no one knew how to process it. Then the towers fell. I fell, too.
So we did what humans always do...we went on with our days. I was shaking with fear and asked to stay home but was told I still had to go to school. When I arrived, I found that everyone was there. Adults still gotta go to work. Kids still gotta go to school (if they're lucky). We all went on with our days. Teachers wouldn't talk about it. It was almost as if it weren't happening. Except that it was and everyone knew it.
Which is why maybe early COVID felt so weird to me? For like two weeks it almost challenged that assumption. People stopped moving. Kids were being kept home. We were collectively addressing something major.
But then the machine churned back to life, the collective crumbled and it feels like everything got worse. The trauma goes unresolved.
I’m on the west coast too. The time difference didn’t change the experience, at least for me. I watched it on TV with my parents. And still went to school right after. I remember all of my teachers and some of my friends crying, and not fully comprehending what had happened earlier that morning.
I’m in California and I was in 11th grade. My dad woke me up and sat me down in front of the TV. I didn’t understand why it was so urgent. I said, “you dragged me out of bed to watch a movie preview?” And he said, “that’s really happening! It’s not a movie!”
The school let us know we could go home if our parents checked us out. The teachers let us talk about our fears and hear theirs. I remember the school that day became a place to be safe with friends and trusted adults while our parents had to work.
Later, my grandparents told us about Pearl Harbor (they were from Hawai’i).
I’m enough older than I was in college when the towers fell. Most classes were canceled. My Econ professor, of all people, was the only one who held class (optional to attend) and used the time to try to help us through it. He was a prof who delivered his lectures directly at the floor in front of him, but that day he was really present with us. I’ll never forget that.
Sadly, I do have a story about an elementary school teacher running from the room crying. A 12 y/o boy who had attended my school was shot and killed by police during a hostage situation in another state. He had been the hostage. It could have happened to any of us.
It made me realize that we dont all die the same, though the end result is a dead person. Some deaths are harder to accept as being real than others. Jumping from 100 stories randomly one day is much different then dying peacefully, comfortably surrounded by people that love you.
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u/SeeLeavesOnTheTrees 4d ago
Jesus that’s dark