Life has been surreal the last few days, hasn't it? First, a perfectly normal day began and then amidst the perfectly normal clatter and conversation of life someone said, "A plane crashed into one of the World Trade Center buildings." It must have been an accident, a small plane we thought. Then it was a commercial plane, then it was another, then the Pentagon was hit, suddenly buildings were collapsing and the president was in a bunker and no one knew why. Bit by bit like flying pieces of debris each new fact hit us and left a horrible wound.

Some people ignored it, life went on as usual. Others began crying out for vengeance without even knowing what exactly had been done or who was responsible. Many of you, I know, were deeply frightened at the thought that a friend or relative might have been hurt. We are all mourning in either personal loss or simply at the sheer horror of man's potential for cruelty.

My first thoughts, when I saw pictures Tuesday morning of the Twin Towers in flames, ran immediately to how this event will be portrayed in the years to come. I saw that fiery image plastered motionless in a corner of U.S. History books and heard a student reading the dry paragraph that will accompany it, "On September 11, 2001 the United States came under terrorist attack . . . ." I imagined the documentaries with their mournful music and familiar footage. I saw the Hollywood directors counting the days until they can tactfully butcher these events for ten dollars a ticket. I pictured my children not knowing enough to care where I was that day, but myself telling them anyway. If you think about it, what could be a more natural reaction for me to have, having never encountered anything of this scope except in the two-dimensional context of the past? As we have all so recently discovered, there is a vast difference between learning about a tragedy and actually sensing within oneself so many souls crying out in pain and being silenced.

When World War II broke out it was our grandparent's generation that was just turning eighteen and marching off to defend us against a nation who would mount a surprise attack on a military base in a neutral country. It was our parent's generation that was just turning eighteen during the Vietnam War and bleeding without even knowing why. War. How frightening it is to have that word flying around again just as we are coming of age and beginning to step out into the world. Tuesday's attack on humanity has affected many on different levels, but our generation is feeling it in a special way. This has overwhelmingly been an attack on our innocence. It crumbled with those towers and, as I have heard so many of you saying, we are in a whole new world now.

This is not an easy blow to come to terms with. Right now I can see on all of your faces the conflicting emotions that have been wrenched out of us. I see confusion. Why? Why do so many people hate us? Why would anyone do this? Why does God allow such pain and cruelty? In some I see the vacant look of denial. In others anger and burning defiance. Mostly fear. I see a lot of fear. These are charged emotions. Think how much pain, and fear, and hatred it must take in someone's life to make a heart so cold that it could plot and carry out the murder of thousands of people or so hard that it could simply rejoice in others' suffering. For so many people faced with this, the primal reaction is to answer in kind. . . to blame. . . to hate. That is what we must not do. When we feel rage welling up inside of us we must ask ourselves, "What is it that I truly want?" Deep down inside I have faith that you will not find wishes for the continuation of pain, and destruction, and death, but for life in a world where there is no room for hate. That is a pleasant thought, isn't it? It is also, unfortunately, a naive one more suited for the children we were than the adults we must now be. We may not be able to free the world from hate, but we can free ourselves. Then who knows what might happen? Do not let there be room for hatred in your hearts then.

As we come together today as a nation in pride and mourning it is vital to remember that while it was our country which was targeted for this violence, we are not separate from the rest of the world. We must remember that violence against one man wounds all of mankind.

We are in a whole new world now my friends, one that thousands of people have been suddenly and violently denied a place in. We are here and they are not. What are we going to do with that gift? Between hating and healing, what will we do with this new world?

Sara Elizabeth Bert
Class of 2002