When I was a kid, my mother traveled for work pretty frequently for the era, maybe five times a year. When she did, we would go to meet her at the airport and sit by the gate, watching and waiting fit her plane to get in. When it did, we would hug and cheer and I'd try to carry her luggage. She would bring me a keychain or a coveted snow globe from Baltimore or San Francisco or St. Louis. St. Louis always seemed so magical, with its towering, cyclopean arch. We weren't the only ones, there were dozens of families and friends around to greet their relations-errant.
Now, that is all changed. Fourteen years ago, a handful of assholes killed over three thousand people, destroyed a landmark, and made it impossible to meet your family at the arrivals gate.
That's not all, of course. The wars, the economic and political destabilization of the whole world, the fracturing of the American soul.
In a lot of ways, the terrorists won. We are changed. We are saddened and afraid. We are kind of lost. We still don't know how to treat each other. We rage against being gay or being religious or being from another country. We trashed the near east with two wars and we don't seem concerned about all of the refugees. It's business as usual under the new normal.
My kid goes to daycare with a United Colours of Benetton ad's worth of children. I'm hoping that I'll be able to help him understand why that's a good thing, why he should be happy and proud that he lives in a country that is diverse and accepting. Maybe in a generation he can meet his family at the arrivals gate.
No comments:
Post a Comment