Examining My Own Conscience

Do you remember where you were on 9-11-01?

I teach at two different schools. I left the first one after the first two classes and walked into the second and was met by the secretaries somber greeting. With no radio or TV on at the first school we were unaware of the events taking place in New York. While she updated me on what had occurred that morning, the second plane hit. At that point and time it became apparent to everyone in the office that this was no accident, no technical glitch and that we were under attack.

For the next half hour I swallowed my fears, went into my middle school 8th grade classroom and said nothing to my students about what was about to change their world.
Finally as word began to spread through parents and then students, our principal made an announcement about what had happened and offered a tv line to a specially filtered teen news system if we wanted to watch with our students.

Just after that the pentagon was hit and then the plane crashed in PA.

The kids were great. They asked such calm yet magnificant questions about motives and life.

But my strongest desire on that day was to leave and get to my family. Something I thankfully was able to do as we were dismissed early.

Sitting and watching the horrible scenes replayed over and over on the television, reading about them in the print media and hearing them played out again and again on radio created an almost unbearable sorrow inside me. One that became mixed with anger as time progressed.

Zacarias Moussaoui is mentally ill. Of that I am convinced. He wants to believe himself an equal and cohort of Bin Laden. Someone revered in the Al Qaida network.
I believe him to be none of these things.

As he continued to profess his own guilt the reality of the situation said he was lying. Did his lack of truthfullness cause the deaths on 911? It certainly didn't help but our own government knew this attack was planned and possible at any time and still showed no concern, so I couldn't see that the ramblings of a self deluded wannabe terrorist. I don't believe he was ever a player in the 9-11 plot or even knew much of the specifics concerning the attack. Certainly I didn't feel he deserved the death penalty.

Yet, when it came time for the verdict on whether Moussaoui would live or die I found myself conflicted. The offense replayed calls and messages from those that died. Families talked and gave interviews on how their lives had changed and I found myself thrown back to that nightmarish few weeks where the world was colored in hurt and pain.

And I didn't care if he live or died. In fact, more to the point, if he wanted to be a martyr for the cause of hate, let him. Let him die if that's what he wanted.

It was an emotion and feeling that left quickly. No, Moussaoui didn't deserve to die for something he didn't do but the anger that had consumed me, listening and watching the scenes once again, overrode my common sense for a few hours.

Many have asked how it was so easy to lead American into a war with Iraq. Why?
Because we were hurt. We were angry and we wanted retribution. Those emotions were used against us.

I was never in favor of this war. I don't see an end that will bring peace to anyone.
But I understand why it was so easy to convince Americans Iraq was part of 9-11.