09/11/2026
I was on the way to zero period when the first tower hit. I thought the radio broadcast was playing a silly joke, until I got to school and every teacher had the news on in every class. It felt so surreal. I had never gotten the chance to see the World Trade Center in person so really, I didn’t feel a deep connection to the buildings themselves. But what unfolded in the next several months, and really the years and decades, were events that have forever impacted the trajectory of my life and the sincere hope I have for our country.
It was a true moment of community resilience as ONE nation stood in solidarity as communities immediately came together to support victims, families, first responders and really, one another. Coming from an immigrant family, it was the very first time I understood and felt what it meant to be a proud American.
Several months following the attacks, I got accepted into NYU and ended up visiting NYC to tour the campus. On my visit, I went down to Ground Zero and remember seeing the untouched rubble and fencing all around the remains with old and updated “MISSING PERSONS” flyers. It was a solemn, but necessary, visit, as it marked the beginning of the real me. In that moment as a 17-year old, I realized there was just so much beyond what I knew or even understood of our country, our community and even of myself: it reshaped my entire sense of identity, purpose and connection to our country.
I continued visiting Ground Zero every year, which then slowly started evolving into a memorial site led by families of victims and then eventually into a museum honoring those lives lost. With every visit, my connection to the buildings that were once there, the lives lost and the city that helped rebuild… just deepened and imprinted a lasting love and hope for our country. Because through that tragedy came extraordinary courage from ordinary people and I witnessed strength in unity.
Looking back, the World Trade Center towers are no longer abstract structures I long to have seen; they are anchors for my own story, woven into the fabric of who I am today. As I stood at the memorial site year after year (continued in comments)
