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5 lessons from 9/11 that won't be in the history books.

Sept. 11, 2001, taught us things that will never make it into the history books. It's time to pass those lessons on.

community, catastrophe, 9/11, education, history
Image via Pixabay.

A shadow casts across the earth.

Right now, there are teenagers walking around texting, having their first kiss, and skipping class who have lived their entire lives after Sept. 11, 2001. Isn't that crazy?

I've been thinking a lot about kids lately. I've imagined what it would be like to raise a little human one day, and I've pictured all the memorable experiences that we will share together.

But it hit me just how many major moments in world history, like 9/11, that I have lived through that will be nothing more to my kids someday than pictures in a textbook or the subject of a summer blockbuster movie.


These children will probably learn the details of that day in school. They will read how many people lost their lives and about the political response that ultimately led to the war in Iraq.

But that time was so much more than news events and politics. 9/11 taught us deep lessons about life, humanity, and ourselves that will never make it into a history book. Which of those special lessons will we pass on to the next generation? Here are my five:

1. There is no such thing as "far away."

From the moment the towers fell, the news was full of theories about American "interests" and actions abroad. For those of us who were younger and not personally connected to any country outside the U.S., it may have been the first time we'd really given any thought to the relationship between the other side of the world and our own personal lives — let alone Middle East politics. It was the awakening of the idea of global connectedness for us.

It also exposed us to the love and support of people all over the world who had no reason to care about our pain beyond the simple fact that we are all human. 9/11 taught us that what happens in one place has ripple effects that extend across the globe. We should never stop looking out into the world and paying attention to issues, cultures, and global realities different from our own. We should never stop recognizing that it's our common humanity and our capacity for empathy that connect us all.

2. You can't put a timeline on healing.

Survivor Marcy Borders — who was photographed covered head to toe in dust in an iconic 9/11 photo — died of cancer at the age of 41. She believed that her illness was directly connected to effects from that day. And she may have been right. The CDC's World Trade Center Health Program reports that thousands of survivors and first responders have been diagnosed with cancers that resulted from the attack.

Healing from trauma can take an unpredictable amount of time.

These stories and the stories of survivors still battling PTSD offer us a valuable lesson: Just as America is still dealing with the vicious legacy of slavery over a century later, just as victims of childhood abuse may struggle with the effects well into their adulthood, healing from trauma in any form can take an unpredictable amount of time. The scars aren't always obvious and they usually can't be erased with a quick fix.

That's why we have to be able to look beyond what we can immediately see to be compassionate, understanding, and supportive of those who have been hurt — for as long it takes.

3. Behind every major headline is one person's story begging to be heard.

For weeks after the attacks, you couldn't turn on the TV without seeing a slideshow of faces. Every photo of a 9/11 victim was accompanied by a name and a story. Every person became more than just a number. They became real. Seeing their pictures and stories made me feel love and solidarity in a way that opened up my heart.

I learned then about something called statistical numbing. It's why we're less able to process the pain of thousands of people dying than we are when we hear the story of the loss of a single life. 9/11 helped me to think of every major story in the headlines — the mass genocide, hunger, and injustice that we hear about every day — as one person's story. Remembering this lesson can grow your heart a thousand times and inspire true empathy.

4. Your values will always be challenged in times of chaos. And that's exactly when they matter most.

I recently asked a friend of mine what she remembered about 9/11. Her answer shook me to my core. For her, it was the day that she started being harassed and mercilessly bullied at school. That was the day her parents sat her down and told her she was no longer safe. And that was the day that set in motion a series of events that ultimately forced her Muslim American family to move to a different neighborhood for fear of hate crimes.

After 9/11, America was so gripped with grief and panic that we allowed some of our most important values — diversity, equality, and privacy, for example — to be overtaken by fear. Just a quick look at the hashtag #AfterSeptember11 on Twitter reveals how many people are still suffering the consequences of this. What I learned in the aftermath of 9/11 is that, in the face of fear and chaos, it's vital to hold on to your values tightly. It may be difficult, but that's when those values are most at-risk.

5. There is a never-ending supply of good in the world.

It sounds cheesy, but over and over again, we see that in the midst of terrible times, the good in people continues to shine. Americans all over the country came together after 9/11. For a moment in time, all races, ethnicities, and religions joined together to mourn those who were lost, to rebuild what had fallen, and to create a renewed sense of community. It wasn't the first time that happened — and it certainly wasn't the last.

We saw it after Hurricane Katrina, after the 2010 earthquake in Haiti, and after the shootings at Sandy Hook. We continue to see it on a day-to-day basis. Like when thousands of people sent money to help a stranger they read about on the internet. 9/11 taught me the true value and impact of compassion. Our task, each and every day, is to live our lives at peak goodness and humanity — even when we're not in a crisis situation. If we do that, we'll never lose our sense of hope that the world truly can be a better place.

These are just a few of the lessons that I hope every child takes with them when they learn about Sept. 11, 2001.

What lessons would you share?




Photo by Mario Tama/Getty Images

Photo by Scott Olson/Getty Images.

via Edith Lemay/NatGeo

Mia, Leo, Colin, and Laurent Pelletier pose on top of their camper van in front of adouble rainbow while in Mongolia.

True

“Blink,” a new film by National Geographic Documentary Films shows how a family with four children, three of whom are going blind, embraces life in the face of an uncertain future. It’s a testament to the resilience of the Lemay-Pelletier family but also a reminder for all of us to seize the day because all our futures are uncertain.

Edith Lemay and Sébastien Pelletier are the parents of Mia, a 13-year-old girl, and three boys: Léo, 11, Colin, 9, and Laurent, 7. Over the last six years, they’ve learned that Mia and the two youngest boys have retinitis pigmentosa, a rare genetic disease in which the cells of the retina slowly die. As the disease progresses, the person develops “tunnel vision” that shrinks until very little vision remains.

The diagnosis devastated the parents. "The hardest part with the diagnosis was inaction. There's nothing they can do about it. There's no treatment,” Edith says in the film.


However, even though the parents couldn’t affect the progress of the disease, they could give their children’s senses an epic experience that would benefit them for a lifetime.

“We don’t know how fast it’s going to go, but we expect them to be completely blind by mid-life,” said the parents. Mia’s impairment advisor suggested they fill her visual memory with pictures from books. “I thought, I’m not going to show her an elephant in a book; I’m going to take her to see a real elephant,” Edith explains in the film. “And I’m going to fill her visual memory with the best, most beautiful images I can.”

The Pelletier family (from left): Mia, Sebastien, Colin, Edith Lemay, Laurent and Leo inKuujjuaq, Canada.via National Geographic/Katie Orlinsky

This realization led to an inspiring year-long journey across 24 countries, during which every family member experienced something on their bucket list. Mia swam with dolphins, Edith rode a hot-air balloon in Cappadocia, and Léo saw elephants on safari.

Colin realized his dream of sleeping on a moving train while Sébastien saw the historic site of Angkor Wat.

“We were focusing on sights,” explains Pelletier. “We were also focusing a lot on fauna and flora. We’ve seen incredible animals in Africa but also elsewhere. So we were really trying to make them see things that they wouldn’t have seen at home and have the most incredible experiences.”

Cameras followed the family for 76 days as they traveled to far-flung locales, including Namibia, Mongolia, Egypt, Laos, Nepal and Turkey. Along the way, the family made friends with local people and wildlife. In a heartbreaking scene, the boys wept as the family had to leave behind a dog named Bella he befriended in the mountains of Nepal.

But the film isn't just about the wonders of nature and family camaraderie. The family's trip becomes a “nightmare” when they are trapped in a cable car suspended hundreds of feet above the Ecuadorian forest for over 10 hours.

annapurna range, blink, nat geoLeo, Laurent, Edith, Colin, Mia, and Sebastien look out at the mountains in the Annapurna range.via MRC/Jean-Sébastien Francoeur

As expected, NatGeo’s cinematographers beautifully capture the family's journey, and in the case of “Blink,” this majestic vision is of even greater importance. In some of the film's quietest moments, we see the children taking in the world's wonders, from the vast White Desert in Egypt to a fearless butterfly in Nepal, with the full knowledge that their sight will fail one day.

Along the way, the family took as many pictures as possible to reinforce the memories they made on their adventure. “Maybe they’ll be able to look at the photographs and the pictures and they will bring back those stories, those memories, of the family together,” Edith says.

But the film is about more than travel adventures and the pain of grief; ultimately, it’s about family.

“By balancing [the parents’ grief] with a more innocent and joyous tale of childlike wonder and discovery, we felt we could go beyond a mere catalog of locations and capture something universal,” the directors Edmund Stenson and Daniel Roher, said in a statement. “Keeping our camera at kid-height and intimately close to the family, we aimed to immerse the audience in the observational realities of their daily life, as well as the subtle relationships between each of them. This is a film built on looks, gestures and tiny details—the very fabric of our relationships with one another.”

Ultimately, “Blink” is a great film to see with your loved ones because it’s a beautiful reminder to appreciate the wonders of our world, the gift of our senses and the beauty of family.

The film will open in over 150 theaters in the U.S. and Canada beginning Oct. 4 and will debut on National Geographic Channel and stream on Disney+ and Hulu later this year. Visit the “Blink” website for more information.

via TheEllenShow / YouTube

Mark Wahlberg on "The Ellen Show."

Actor Mark Wahlberg recently attended a daddy-daughter dance with his 10-year-old, Grace. Sadly, Grace had no interest in seeing her father strutting his stuff on the dance floor.

"I didn't get one dance," Wahlberg told Ellen DeGeneres. "And I told her we were going to do the whole big circle and I was going to go off. And she said, 'Dad, if you embarrass me, I will never talk to you again.' But what she did do is she hung out with me."

No matter who your dad is, especially if you're a 10-year-old-girl, you have zero desire to see him dance in front of your friends.

But the parents at the dance probably would have had a blast seeing Wahlberg bust out some of his old-school '90s Marky Mark moves.

However, Wahlberg couldn't help but leave his mark on the music being played at the dance.


Let's not forget, he didn't get famous for his acting but for showing off his abs in the "Good Vibrations" video.

Being that Wahlberg's time as a pop star was three decades ago, he couldn't believe it when he heard the music being played at the dance.

"[Grace] sat there on the edge of the stage, by the DJ. And then I'm sitting there with one other dad and I'm like, 'This is not an edited version of this song. There are explicit lyrics being played at a school dance for girls and I'm like no good,'" he said.

"I told the DJ and he's like, 'Oh, I thought it was.' I said, 'What are you doing?' I'm hearing F-bombs and this and that's not okay," Wahlberg said.

He's right. There's no place for music with explicit lyrics at a dance for 10-year-old children.

Wahlberg says the DJ didn't know he wasn't playing the edited version, but it's probably more likely that he didn't even realize the song was a problem. Pop music these days is filled with a numbing amount of violent and misogynistic lyrics.

A recent study from the University of Missouri found that nearly one-third of pop songs contain lyrics that degrade or demean women by portraying them as submissive or sexually objectified.

Currently, three of the top five songs on the Billboard Top 40 contain the word "bitch." One of them is sung in Korean.

It's odd that Americans have become more sensitive to misogyny in pop culture in films, television, and comedy, but still have a huge cultural blind-spot when it comes to music.

That's not a good thing, especially when pop music is marketed to teenagers.

"We know that music has a strong impact on young people and how they view their role in society," said Cynthia Frisby, a professor in the Missouri School of Journalism.

"Unlike rap or hip-hop, pop music tends to have a bubbly, uplifting sound that is meant to draw listeners in," Frisby continued. "But that can be problematic if the lyrics beneath the sound are promoting violence and misogynistic behavior."

Let's face it, pop stars are role models. Their examples show young people what to wear and how to behave. That's not to say that kids will blindly follow someone just because they like their music. But it has an undeniable effect.

Wahlberg, and any parent who monitors what their kids are listening to, deserve credit for protecting the minds and hearts of their kids.

Frisby has some great advice for parents concerned about negative imagery in pop music.

"Ask your daughters and sons what songs they like to listen to and have conversations about how the songs might impact their identity," Frisby said.

"For example, many songs might make young girls feel like they have to look and act provocative in order to get a boy to like them, when that isn't necessarily the case. If children and teens understand that what they are hearing isn't healthy behavior, then they might be more likely to challenge what they hear on the radio."

He's right. There's no place for music with explicit lyrics at a dance for 10-year-old children.

Wahlberg says the DJ didn't know he wasn't playing the edited version, but it's probably more likely that he didn't even realize the song was a problem. Pop music these days is filled with a numbing amount of violent and misogynistic lyrics.

A recent study from the University of Missouri found that nearly one-third of pop songs contain lyrics that degrade or demean women by portraying them as submissive or sexually objectified.

Currently, three of the top five songs on the Billboard Top 40 contain the word "bitch." One of them is sung in Korean.

It's odd that Americans have become more sensitive to misogyny in pop culture in films, television, and comedy, but still have a huge cultural blind-spot when it comes to music.

That's not a good thing, especially when pop music is marketed to teenagers.

"We know that music has a strong impact on young people and how they view their role in society," said Cynthia Frisby, a professor in the Missouri School of Journalism.

"Unlike rap or hip-hop, pop music tends to have a bubbly, uplifting sound that is meant to draw listeners in," Frisby continued. "But that can be problematic if the lyrics beneath the sound are promoting violence and misogynistic behavior."

Let's face it, pop stars are role models. Their examples show young people what to wear and how to behave. That's not to say that kids will blindly follow someone just because they like their music. But it has an undeniable effect.

Wahlberg, and any parent who monitors what their kids are listening to, deserve credit for protecting the minds and hearts of their kids.

Frisby has some great advice for parents concerned about negative imagery in pop music.

"Ask your daughters and sons what songs they like to listen to and have conversations about how the songs might impact their identity," Frisby said.

"For example, many songs might make young girls feel like they have to look and act provocative in order to get a boy to like them, when that isn't necessarily the case. If children and teens understand that what they are hearing isn't healthy behavior, then they might be more likely to challenge what they hear on the radio."


This article originally appeared on 03.03.20

via Metro / YouTube


British man goes on racist rant at polish man for drinking on train | Metro.co.ukwww.youtube.com

A woman on a London train deserves praise for the great way she handled and argument between two drunk men back in 2019. In fact, it's a message that still perfectly resonates today.

The video begins with a nationalistic British man in a suit chastising a man of Polish-Russian decent in the seat next to him for drinking a beer on the train. "You are in Britain, you listen to the rules," he said while wagging his finger. "You abide by the rules or you get out."

The man with the beer asked the suited man to leave the train to address the issue. Then threatened to spit on him.


The man in the suit responded in a smug, condescending manner, saying, "I'll explain to you so you can understand," inferring that a man from outside of Britain couldn't grasp simple rules. "You see those rules up there, the ones that say you don't drink alcohol?"

"I'm not the only one!" the man with the beer responded. "You are yourself drunk, you idiot!"


via Metro / YouTube

Anyone who has ever been to London knows that people routinely break the no-drinking rule on the train. So the man in the suit was clearly looking for trouble when he asked the man to stop drinking.

After being told to call the police if he cares so much, the British man decided he had the right to order the other man around simply because he was born in another country.

"I was born and bred here, you've come into this country. You abide by these rules," he continued. "'Abide by English laws or get out.

"I am a Polish boy from Russia and will fuck you," the man with the beer said angrily and then said the man in the suit should be "in the toilet."

via Metro / YouTube

Then, out of nowhere a woman sitting across from the fighting drunks played judge, jury, and executioner by putting a perfect end to the fight.

"I just wanted to say, yes you should not be drinking here," she said to the man with the beer.

Then, she looked at the man in the suit. "But you have no right to talk to somebody like that, and to use their nationality against them. It is wrong… Using his race against him is disgusting. And because of your behavior I don't want to sit here. People like you bring shame to this country."

Then she walked into another train car.

And the Polish man took a big swig of beer.

via Metro / YouTube


This article originally appeared on 7.31.19

via Wikimedia Commons

Generation X, people born between 1965 and 1979, are America's goofy middle children sandwiched between the much larger Baby Boomer and Millennial generations. Gen X prides itself on being individualistic, nonconformists committed to a D.I.Y. ethic whether that means writing a punk 'zine or launching a tech start-up.

(If you just asked yourself "What's a 'zine?" you're clearly not a member of Gen X.)

It's a generation marked by an aloof cool where any personal slight can be written off with a "whatever" that's deathly afraid of taking anything too seriously. It's a generation that was so put off by the corporate, commercial culture of the '80s it rebelled by wearing second-hand clothes and ironically embracing low-brow '70s culture.



It's the generation of hip-hop, Tiger Woods, Quentin Tarrantino, the re-birth of punk rock, John Cusak movies, and Atari.

A big reason Gen X is so self-reliant is that it's the generation hardest hit by divorce. According to a 2004 marketing study it "went through its all-important, formative years as one of the least parented, least nurtured generations in U.S. history."

Gen X was the first generation that experienced both parents working outside the home. But, unfortunately, at the same time, childcare centers and afterschool programs had not yet emerged to a significant extent.

Now, the "Coolest Generation" finds itself somewhere between 42 and 56 and is hitting middle age. Unfortunately, that means it's now the most stressed generation in America. Although, in true Gen X fashion, many refuse to let anyone see they're stressed.

An extensive study by Penn State showed that stress began to hit Gen X sometime in the last decade. The 2012 study discovered that Gen X had an average stress level of 5.8 (out of ten) while Millennials (3.4) and Baby Boomers (4.4) were a lot calmer.

A study from earlier this month shows that the trend hasn't changed. In 2021, 22% of Gen Xers admitted to daily struggles with stress followed by Millenials (17%), Gen Z (14%), and Baby Boomers (8%).

A big reason for the stress is having to take care of multiple generations. Many Gen Xers have to care for their aging parents as well as their children who are just starting to make their way in the world.

Gen X may have aged its way into the most stressful part of its life, but things could be a lot worse. There's no group of people better equipped to deal with stress. When executives at Nike studied Gen X it found the generation's hallmarks are "flexibility," "innovation," and "adaptability." "They have developed strong survival skills and the ability to handle anything that comes their way," the study says.

Gen Xers may think that's just a bunch of corporate B.S. However, it's true. Gen X grew up during the AIDS epidemic, the end of the Cold War, the Challenger disaster, the late '80s and early '90s crime wave, 9/11, the Great Recession, COVID-19, and managed to survive after "My So-Called Life" was canceled.

We've survived tough times and we'll make it through these as well. Just got to follow the advice of Gen X's poet laureate, Tupac Shakur: "And it's crazy, it seems it'll never let up, but please, you got to keep your head up."

We can also look forward to grabbing a big box of popcorn and enjoying the massive Millennial meltdown that happens when they hit middle age. It's not going to be pretty.


This article originally appeared on 4.8.21

Twitter

If you're a white supremacist, I imagine drinking beer (or any other alcoholic beverage) is a nice way to relax and tune out the fact that you're a terrible person who's helping set human progress back at a rate the bubonic plague would be proud of. But for some self-professed white supremacists, it wasn't quite so easy on a June weekend in Germany back in 2019.

According to Newsweek, the hundreds of neo-Nazis who flocked to the "Shield and Sword Festival" in Ostritz found themselves uncomfortably dry when a court imposed a liquor ban at their gathering of hateful bigots who also like to listen to awful music together. The ban's aim was to prevent any violence that might erupt (you know it would...) and the police confiscated more than a thousand gallons of alcohol from those attending the weekend-long event. They even posted pictures on Twitter of the alcohol they'd removed from participants.





But that's only half the story.

Residents of the town of Ostritz, who've had to deal with the bigots before (they threw the same festival last year on Hitler's birthday), knew that the ban wouldn't stop the festival-goers from trying to obtain more alcohol while in town. So the townspeople got together a week before the festival and devised a plan which would truly make the white supremacists focus on how terrible neo-Nazi music is: They bought up the entire town's beer supply.

"We wanted to dry the Nazis out," Georg Salditt, a local activist, told reporters. "We thought, if an alcohol ban is coming, we'll empty the shelves at the Penny [supermarket]."

"For us it's important to send the message from Ostritz that there are people here who won't tolerate this, who say 'we have different values here, we're setting an example..." an unidentified local woman told ZDF Television.

At the same time the festival was going on, residents also staged two counter-protests and put on a "Peace Festival" to drive home the point that bigotry wasn't welcome. If the festival is held in the same town again next year, ticket-buyers should be aware that Ostritz isn't playing around when it says that white supremacists aren't welcome.

There's some good news, too: Aside from the fact that residents aren't afraid to send the message that they're intolerant of intolerance, attendance to the far-right music festival has drastically decreased in the past year. In 2018, 1,200 people attended, according to the BBC. This year? Approximately 500-600. Here's hoping the festival won't have a return engagement next year.


This article originally appeared on 6.24.19

Family

What my emotionally abusive childhood taught me about parenting

"My mother and father attended all of my productions and plays in school. They never missed a single honors luncheon and saw me get all of my attendance awards. But behind closed doors, things were different."

Image by Ulrike Mai from Pixabay

From the outside looking in, I had the picture perfect childhood. I lived in a four-bedroom house with a dog and a fenced-in backyard. I wore department store clothes and Stride Rite kicks, and I had the latest and greatest clothes and toys. From Barbie and Cabbage Patch Dolls to a Nintendo, Super Nintendo, Gameboy, and SEGA Genesis, I had it all.

I also had two loving* parents. My mother and father attended all of my productions and plays in school. They never missed a single honors luncheon and saw me get all of my attendance awards.

But behind closed doors, things were different. They were different, and my mother was a nightmare. She mentally, emotionally, and verbally abused me for years.


Of course, I didn't know it. Not initially. Not until the damage was already done, but that is because—like most abusers—her mistreatment began as manipulation. She loved me, coddled me, and held me close. She would say things like "Mommy loves you. Mommy needs you. You don't want Mommy to be sad, do you? Do this and I'll be happy."

She made me believe I couldn't trust anyone. My childhood was full of silence, shame, and secrets. She separated me from my friends. She told me I couldn't go out or have playdates. I was never allowed to have company over, and then she began putting me down.

I was bad. I was stupid. I was a "disappointment" and a "failure."

Things only got worse. Sometime between my twelfth birthday and my thirteenth, the yelling began. Both I and my house shook from the noise and fear. By my fourteenth birthday, my mother's insults were laced with expletives. Sometimes she tried to hit me or hold me down, and because I was groomed from a young age, I felt helpless.

I was scared, isolated, depressed, and alone. I lived in fear. I walked on eggshells in my prison, aka my home.

The good news is that (eventually) I got out. When I graduated high school, I moved myself and my meager belongs 100 miles and two states away. But the damage was done. At 36, I still struggle with self-confidence. Trust is an issue, as is my reaction to criticism—actual and implied—and I have very few friends.

But my abusive childhood also taught me a lot about parenting. I know what my kids need, what they want, and what they deserve, and for that I am thankful. I consider myself #blessed.

Make no mistake: I know that sounds odd and twisted, and in a way it is, and yet it also makes perfect sense because my broken and neglectful childhood made me a mother who loves deeply and fully. I wear my heart on my sleeve. I give my children what they need most: my time, ear, patience, and support.

My broken childhood taught me to lead by experience. I, for example, have trust issues because my trust was betrayed (and because I was told to keep others beyond my reach), so I make it a point to push my own boundaries when my children are around. I want them to see what I didn't. I want them to rely on others in a way I never could.

And my broken childhood taught me what I shouldn't say. I rarely use the words "can't" or "don't." I praise my daughter on a regular basis. I focus on her achievements and not her failures or shortcomings, and when she "acts up" or makes a mistake I choose my words wisely. I seperate her feelings from her behaviors, i.e. "It is okay to be upset. I would be frustrated too. But acting out is not a healthy way of dealing with your feelings."

I also tell her how I am feeling. Why? Because growing up I was told things like "stop crying" and "calm down" and these directives didn't just cause me pain and anxiety, they kept me from processing my emotions.

I still struggle to say much more than "I'm fine" or "I'm okay."

So while I am not happy I grew up in a distant home, a neglectful home, and an emotionally and verbally abusive home, I am happy that my daughter will not because my experience taught me what my children need and don't need. My experience taught me how I can—and why I need to—break the cycle.


This article originally appeared on 9.4.20