Ten years ago, I was in the sixth grade. I was at school, and we were told that we had to have indoor recess that day. We weren’t really sure why, but I know that it was at least rumored that there was a bear outside. When we arrived back in our classroom for recess, Miss Chapman told us that we were going to have a class meeting, and that we should put our chairs in a circle. We were all more than a little confused but, as the well-trained elementary schoolers we were, we obeyed without many questions. When we were settled into our class meeting circle, Miss Chapman told us that planes had hit the World Trade Center and the Pentagon, and that we had very little information about what was going on. We were all in shock. Living within commuting distance of New York, some kids were scared, not knowing what was going on with their families. Kids were allowed to go down to the office to call home, if they were concerned. I remember being worried about my best friend, whose dad was a pilot. When I got home that day, the TV wasn’t on. Today, I saw news clips that I had honestly never seen before. Since my sister was only 2 at the time, and my brother was only in kindergarten, my parents sheltered the house from much of what was going on in the rest of the country. While I completely understand and approve of what they did, because of my siblings, I kind of wish I had been allowed to know a little more. They didn’t hide any information from me, but I was most certainly not allowed to watch the news. All day and into the night, we heard fighter jets flying over head, due to our proximity to the Willow Grove air base, as well as our position in the middle of some of the major air patterns between the big cities of the east coast. Every time a plane flew over head, we froze, afraid that maybe it wasn’t a fighter jet, that maybe one had gotten away and was going to hit another building, or possibly crash like Flight 93. It wasn’t until years later that I heard the stories of my cousin, who lived in DC, trying desperately to reach her kindergarten age son, who was at school on the other side of the city. I do, however, remember watching the President’s Address to the Nation. I don’t care about your politics, and how you feel about Bush as a person or a President, but at that moment, he had the hardest job in the world. He had to address and reassure a grieving nation. He had to share in our pain, but remind us of our strength. He had to call for us to band together in the face of this new danger, and make decisions that ultimately changed the course of history, for better or for worse. I remember feeling bad for him, even as an 11 year old, because I knew that his presidency would be defined by those attacks. That no matter what he did, everyone would remember how he responded, and that would impact every move he made for the rest of his time in office. Little did I know that, 10 years later, the war of which he spoke would still be raging, that it would take such a long time to catch Osama Bin Laden, and that we would spread our conflict throughout the Middle East. I have absolutely no interest in getting into a debate about that war, or those wars, depending on how you look at it, because I don’t think that that should be the focus of September 11th. While I agree that the focus should be on those who were lost, and those who continue to sacrifice every day to keep us safe, I don’t agree that that should turn into debates about the validity of the war. To me, that actually negates our honoring of those who continue to serve in the military. We are basically telling them that their sacrifice is only appreciated if we agree with the politics that put them there. We are telling them that, as much as we appreciate everything they’re doing, we don’t think they actually need to be doing it. So thanks a lot for leaving your family behind, with no way of knowing if you’ll ever return to them, but it really wasn’t necessary. So my challenge to you is to remember that feeling we got on that day, that feeling that we were one, as a nation. That anyone who dared to mess with us would have to face the wrath of each and every man, woman and child in America. Remember our solidarity, and that united we stand, but divided we fall. Honor those we lost by letting their deaths not be in vain, but be the deaths that inspired us to move past our petty disagreements and actually work together for the betterment of our world.

lecheeese:

“And as the years go by, our friendship will never die.”

(Source: landofsleepytime)

loveyourchaos:

vintage-couture:

I JUST SPENT 2 HOURS OF MY LIFE TRYING TO FIGURE THIS OUT. OMG. MOST DIFFICULT THING I’VE EVER DONE.

I CAN’T FUCKING DO IT FUCK

I AM NOT ABLE TO DO IT, IF IT DEPENDED ON MY LIFE, I WOULD BE ALREADY DEAD

This was really fun, it took me forever to find a way out!

(Source: marcellohnp)

Mamihlapinatapei:

Yagan (indigenous language of Tierra del Fuego) – “the wordless, yet meaningful look shared by two people who both desire to initiate something but are both reluctant to start”