To heal, not to harm

This has been a bad year for blogging. Not because I don't have anything to say--I do, believe me, I do. But I keep getting into these long periods where I think, "Does anyone really give a fuck, pardon my language, about what I've got to say? 'Cause really, I'm not sure they do. Does anyone really want to know what I think? Am I just blogging for myself?" And is this a self-pitying way to look at it? Well sure. But it still happens. And the end result is that I always conclude that, for better or worse, I am blogging for myself, because that's how I have to do it. I can't censor myself, or stop writing because I'm afraid no one's reading my posts. I blog because I have something to say, and even when people don't agree with it, their disagreement can't change that this is how I feel.

So, I have some thoughts about tomorrow's date that I'd like to share, and if anyone wishes to debate this point, I respectfully request that you go elsewhere. I'm not here to debate, and perhaps if you hear me out, if you read all the way through before you head for the comment box to give me a piece of your mind, you will understand why.

I have never been one to shy away from writing about violent tragedies. I am not afraid to write about hard-to-understand events. I am not, nor have I ever been, afraid to stand up for what I believe. And yet this is something that is hard to put into words, because if I don't get my point across correctly, I will hurt more than I will help, and that is not the point of this post.

I came across a post on Tumblr that made me stop and think about what tomorrow's date really means, and why we continue to think/talk/"celebrate"/generally make a big deal of this day:

"I think the USA needs to move on from September 11th...The events are tragic. I'm not saying they aren't. But the U.S. Government and the media make it out to be some worldwide catastrophe that claimed the lives of millions of people around the world, when really, the event only killed about 2,600 people...I understand that a lot of people died, and I should be respecting them. But while we honor the dead, we can't have these extravagant 2-hour TV specials reading the names of all these people who died 12 years after the disaster...It was a terrible thing that happened, but it's been 12 years. The USA is comparable to a person who still clings to their ex-spouse or significant other years after they broke up."

Let me take a moment to be disgustingly obvious: This is obviously the least-tactful way anyone could possibly state that opinion. So, disclaimer time: I don't agree with every point made here.

But I do agree that we need to let go of 9/11.

Not because it wasn't a horrible, terrifying thing that we can just brush under the rug. Not because if we were a "tougher" nation we'd just go "Whatevs" and move on. Not because we can let our guard down now because OBVIOUSLY no one's after us; it's always better to do what we can to protect ourselves. And certainly not because it's been "long enough" that the memories of what happened that day no longer sting for those who lost family and friends.

But let's recap. Since 9/11, we've seen other horrible things. The safety of movie theaters was thrown into question after the 2012 attack at the Dark Knight Rises midnight opening. A young shooter broke into an elementary school last Christmas and killed 28 people including himself and his mother--and 20 young children.  Just this past spring two bombs went off at the Boston Marathon, killing 3 and injuring an estimated 264.  And let's not forget six years ago, when a devastating massacre at Virginia Tech left 32 dead and 17 wounded. And those are just the well-publicized, close-to-home ones. Last August a shooter massacred a church in Nigeria, killing at least nineteen people including the church's pastor. To say nothing of the conflict in Syria, which seems to be getting worse by the day.

My point, before you start screaming at me for reminding you of our nation's (and our world's) capacity for violence, is that terrible things happen. And when they do, we like to publicize them. We like to, for lack of a better word, wallow in them. And even if we don't like to wallow in them, per se, the media loves to force us to do so. And what this does, in my not-so-professional, casual-bystander opinion, is force those personally involved into the spotlight. I can't tell you how many pieces I read on gun violence after the Aurora Dark Knight shooting. And for every story about the shooting I read, there were another five or six that I just couldn't bring myself to read. I even wrote about the event myself, in the immediate aftermath/news explosion. The whole thing was so prevalent for weeks and months and then...

And then wait, where did it go?

On July 20, 2013, I waited for the explosion of media talking about the anniversary of the Dark Knight Rises shooting in Aurora. I waited for the documentaries, the we-remembers, the blogging, the excitement, the mourning. It didn't happen. Maybe one or two bloggers or papers wrote about it, but there was certainly no outpouring of media. And I was so relieved about that, because you know what that means?

That means that the people who were truly affected by it--not the media analysts, not the news anchors, not the documentary filmmakers, and certainly not the social media commentators, but the families of those who were lost--could deal with it in their own way, on their own time, without outside or media interference.

And that, to me, is how we should truly deal with tragedies. Even the huge-scale ones like 9/11. Becuase it's only when we let go that the healing can begin. And I don't know about you, but if I lost someone in an event like 9/11, the last thing I would want is a news show, 12 years after the fact, still making a point of publicizing my loss and my pain.

I don't have any personal stories from 9/11--I don't have a lost family member or other loved one to remember--so I don't feel like I have the right to tell others how to recognize 9/11. If you want to spend it with your family at a midweek barbecue, go right ahead. If you want to go to your church and pray for those lost, you should do that. If you want to write poetry, paint or draw an abstract picture, make some graphic art about it--do it. Do it and remember what happened that day, and recognize your own feelings about it.

And if you lost someone that day, if you had a personal stake in the fallout of that day--I pray for you, I pray so hard for you and your family, and I wish you a long and happy life that celebrates the memory of the person you lost. If you lost someone that day, you are entitled to do whatever you need to do to celebrate their memory, to honor them however you believe they should be honored.

And if you don't want to do anything special at all? If you just want to go to school, go about your day, go to your shift at work, listen to your iPod, watch some America's Got Talent and have a sandwich before collapsing in bed and groaning at the thought of waking up early on Thursday? Be my guest.

But news stations, history channels, documentary filmmakers, analysts, historians, politicians, anyone who is on the outside looking in, anyone who is using 9/11 as a pep rally for patriotism or as a springboard for another discussion of How And Why Obama Is Screwing Up This Country or How Bush Screwed Up This Country--I beg you, don't do it. Don't turn someone's personal day of remembrance into a media circus. Don't keep pushing this "day of patriotism" onto people.

If you have a reason to, for lack of a better word, celebrate 9/11, do it. But if you are just doing it because the news channels and history channels are plastering it over your TV and computer screen, please stop.

I am not a politician, I am not a bereavement counselor, I am not a historical analyst or even a history buff. I'm not an expert.

I'm just a girl who will offer up a single, heartfelt prayer for those lost tomorrow, who will offer up that single, heartfelt prayer for their families, their friends, and anyone else who was deeply, truly affected by what happened that day twelve years ago, who will offer up a single, heartfelt prayer that we can all move on together from that day.

And then I'll let it go.