Last-ish Thoughts

I haven’t posted any last thoughts on the 9/11 anniversary, because I’ve had a very hard time settling on some. That’s not to say I don’t have any — I’ve written several drafts, and thought of more. But they seem either too negative or too unfocused. What do I want to say about this? What statement would be useful, for me or anyone else?

The bottom line, very generally, is this: when it comes to our response to 9/11, I don’t think we, overall, have done it very well. From the earliest days, when our national leaders were amazingly absent and only Rudy Giuliani seemed to have any concept of just diving in and doing what was needed, to this past Sunday, when the public was excluded and the organization around the site was simultaneously heavy-handed and utterly chaotic, this event and its ongoing aftermath seem to have become an excuse for emotional porn and jingoism more than anything else.

Betty Bowers, the fabulous satirist who bills herself as “America’s Best Christian,” had it right when she said, “Most of the media commemorations this week have been harrowing tales intended to evoke tears (emotional porn), which flatter the survivors with how much they feel, rather than honor the victims with how much they lost." When a friend shared this quote with me it made me realize how deeply I’d fallen into that trap, myself, and it helped me break free of it, for which I’m grateful.

I’ve always been pretty disgusted with the public discussion about rebuilding the site. By enfranchising so many discordant, uncollaborative, and deeply biased voices, the process has seemed to play on and enflame sentimentality over healing, and to look back at those who died in the Towers rather than allow any look forward to what would really benefit the city and the nation in coming generations.

The fact that the construction process is so hidden from public eye also seems like a huge failure — all people want to do is see into the site, see what’s going on there and try to square the new view with their memories of what it used to look like. But the construction walls shut us out utterly, and in the one public space (a pedestrian bridge over the West Side Highway) that allows a partial view of the Memorial, security guards yell at anyone leaning against the wall to take a photo and chase children away. Out on the all the streets surrounding the site, policemen yell at anyone who pauses to take a picture or try to see in, although there’s very little traffic to block and no obvious security concern. It all seems ridiculously secretive.

But having said that, I now officially lay off. I’m interested to see what the site develops into and how it looks when it’s finished. All those trees and that huge open space in the middle of such a dense urban area is definitively a good thing. And the pools and fountains do look impressive. At some point, the whole place will become normalized, just part of Manhattan’s layout, and the police will relax about it. So let’s wait and see.

Meanwhile, I can’t say the anniversary events gave me anything in particular. But I’m still extremely, unhesitatingly glad I went. I feel a sense of separation, if not exactly closure, and that is a good thing. The site has moved on. And so, much to my own surprise, can I.

Maybe someday I’ll have a better, clearer, wiser perspective about the experience of 9/11 and how it fits into the rest of the world. That hasn’t happened yet. But I’ve decided not to cling to it anymore.