we are many...

We are many...

I watched with tissue in my hands as the names were read, of the fallen from the events of 9-11. The lump in my throat thickened as after the list of names were said out loud. The two speakers at each podium then personalized a name by stating, my father, my mother, my sister, my brother, my husband, my wife, my partner my friend.

I watched as people in various shades of black skin, brown skin, yellow skin, white skin, stood erect at the podium speaking the names of the innocent who perished on 9-11. I watched as men, women, wealthy, poor, middle class, old, young recited the names of first responders, office workers, executives, mail clerks, transit officers who died on 9-11. I watched as some wore head coverings denoting their particular religious leaning. I watched as some asked God, Jesus, Allah, to watch over their loved ones. I watched as some lingered on the memories, as some quickly said goodbye, as some could not finish their sentence for those who no longer live because of he tragic events on 9-11.

We are many...

Yet it seems when the horror is over, the trauma has subsided, the noise and hurry diminished, suddenly we are no longer many but suddenly them or us or not we, The many become some of them, not us. When the rush and the roar are over we stop caring for the many, we become divisive and divide.

We all suffered as a nation on 9-11. We were told that this wound might heel and if it did we as a nation would also heal and become stronger. Despair we were told was not going to be tolerated in a nation as good as ours. Desire and dreams would emerge as we collectively gathered together to rid this nation of any disease we were told. We are strong when are one, he propaganda read.

We are many...

But 10 years later we are much more full of hate and fear and loathing on this 9-11 day. 10 years later our politics are based on separate and maybe equal, you are not as good as me, my way or no way, and consensus is a consequence. And 10 years later the greater enemy is not from foreign shores but from within.

I saw the many who lost people who mattered in their life cry, sigh, and try, all reading names of the many who died. Why do we not look at ourselves as a collective 10 years later instead of a disjointed, disgusting group? Why are not the many any more?

We are many...