On 9/11, I had a baby. The day the towers burned in chaos and over 3,000 people died in terror, I gave birth to a 9lb 4oz bundle of joy. There is no urgency greater than childbirth, and the distraction of my personal life insulated me from the destruction and mayhem on the TV screen.
Some have aptly compared the emotional toll of this week’s events to their responses to September 11, 2001. I understand.
Like many of you, I continued to work — one eye on my news feed and the other on Google Meet — as rioters stormed the United States Capitol and desecrated the practices and symbols of our country. We carried on. What else could we do?
On Friday, I blocked out a few hours on my calendar for in-depth study. I found that I just couldn’t do it. My inner voice railed about my laziness and intellectual weakness. Still, I could not make the wheels turn, and I could not get more than a sentence into the documentation. Eventually, I shared my struggle with a friend, the most productive person I know. He affirmed the same challenge.
I am not a rabble-rouser. I’m not a fighter, and I’m not a torchbearer. I would be a terrible judge or prosecuting attorney — I love mercy, and I do not want to inflict pain. I’m happiest when people see their wrongs and turn away from them. I’m not naïve (I don’t think.) The world that I desire is not the world we have. Most days, I live on decent terms with this reality. I believe in acknowledging good when I see it and in looking for the best. We ought not ignore injustice. I believe we have systemic problems that require system-wide solutions, but I don’t pretend to know what those solutions ought to be.
What I do know is that I have my life, my family, and my circle of influence. This time will pass — one way or another. I have grave fears about the future. In some ways, though, that’s neither here nor there. I am in no position of power over anyone but myself.
So, what now? I will spend some time processing. I will find an easy Netflix series to binge, and I will pull myself together. I will carry on. I’ll love my husband and kids, and I write some words and do my job. I’m sure in the eyes of many, this is not enough. Yet, as I look at our fractured world of mayhem, fear, disease, and uncertainty, I believe it’s exactly what we need.