The sadness of 9/11 persists. Today morning watching the names being called on television, I remembered the sheer helplessness of that day, the surreal quality of the world. Today too I go to New Jersey for a memorial for the beloved son of dear friends whose life changed forever on this day. I share with you an earlier piece about 9/11 and how we must never forget.
Browsing: twin towers
Like all New Yorkers, playwright Rehana Lew Mirza has turbulent memories of 9/11 when the world seemed to come crashing down. That night, aware of the rising backlash against Muslims, she and her sister remained barricaded in their one bedroom apartment, watching the horrific images on TV.
A week after that, just as they were struggling to get back to work, Mirza found a flier pinned to her door: it had the image of a missing South Asian woman – and someone had burnt holes into the paper, into the eye-sockets and mouth with a cigarette.
It was at that chilling moment that she knew that for New York Muslims the tragedy was a double whammy – not only were they too the victims but were also being demonized as the perpetrators.
Her response was the play ‘Barriers’. Now on the tenth anniversary of 9/11, ‘Barriers’ is back.
On 9/11, 2001 all hell broke loose from the sky in Lower Manhattan, and America and Americans have never been the same again. A human trust was broken, and now there’s always a chasm, a looking over the shoulder, a wound which never completely heals.
That brings us to the proposed Cordoba House community center/mosque near Ground Zero. Not a handful of soil has been turned nor a brick has been laid, yet this mosque-to-be has caused angst, debate and anger. Like a phantom, it has entered into conversations, both real and virtual.