The day that changed a class
For today's generation of young students—the Millennials—Sept. 11 is the event that reshaped their view of themselves, their country and their world. It was their Pearl Harbor, their King and Kennedy assassinations, their Challenger explosion. Momentous. Horrifying. Unforgettable. The Quarterly asked a group of graduating seniors how Sept. 11 changed their educational and professional plans.
LUIS BÁEZ:
Citizen of the world
Just days after my arrival at Wheaton, I found myself in complete distress. I had left my home in the Bronx to study at a place where there were few people like me. Hardly anyone spoke Spanish, my native language, and I knew of only a few out-and-active queer individuals. I was living in a dorm room with two complete strangers, and I was homesick. To top it all off, the 9/11 attacks left me feeling really hopeless about the future.
From that day on, I was forced to develop thick skin, not only to deal with the challenges of studying at Wheaton, but to better approach the issues facing our interdependent world. I had to travel and study abroad, learn other languages and embrace lifestyles that were different from my own. I had to learn to be a citizen of the world, and a cosmopolitan scholar.
The 9/11 attacks brought the world to a screeching halt, as it became apparent to all of us that globalization was real. The events of that day shifted meanings of national and cultural identities, affecting not only our perception of ourselves but that of others—the most tangible example being the construction of Arab identity in American popular culture. September 11 affected immigration policy and national security policy. It changed the way we travel, and how we interact with individuals different from ourselves. It made us question our religious beliefs and how we look at our neighbors. Yet, through all this distress and disillusionment, I found myself, like others in the Class of 2005, pressing forward with the currents of change while also trying to enjoy my precious college years.
Shortly after the 9/11 attacks, I changed my major from biology to sociology. I wanted to keep up with the changes taking place in ethnic, cultural, religious, sexual, national and political identities, and through research and activism, help ease the tensions that often arise from these shifting identities. Instead of going to medical school, I now want to pursue a career in the arenas of sociology, the law and public policy. With the education and training I received at Wheaton, I hope to provoke positive change through activism; and contribute to scholarship on immigration, cultural studies and queer studies. The 9/11 attacks may at first have left me feeling hopeless about our future, but I now look forward to the changes that are to come, and hope to play an active role in them.
CAITLIN DEIGHAN:
Service to refugees
Witnessing the horrific images of 9/11 on television, my first reaction was one of fear and confusion. I was worried about my family in New York City, and immediately tried to call my parents, who had dropped me off at Wheaton only ten days earlier. None of us could reach home, so we turned to each other for support.
When the campus community gathered in the Dimple that afternoon, I could never have fathomed how much that day would influence my education at Wheaton and my future goals. A month after that haunting Tuesday morning, I received a letter from a Bosnian refugee family whose children I had tutored throughout high school. The father expressed his trepidation over keeping his children home from school on important Islamic holidays. He seemed to think it best not to publicize the fact that they were Muslim. He also mentioned that he had decided to shave his beard.
His assertions angered and alarmed me, though I completely understood his concerns. After September 11, the United States froze the admission of all refugees for three months, bringing total refugee admissions for 2001 to their lowest point since 1987. In a time when our freedom was under attack, the United States turned its back on those desperately searching for freedom. The freedom of citizens and non-citizens alike was threatened by the passage of legislation that eroded civil liberties.
I tailored my education in an effort to understand the post-9/11 world by majoring in international relations. With the support of my professors and the Filene Center, I had the opportunity to examine refugee issues outside of the classroom through internships at the New York State Bureau of Refugee and Immigration Affairs, Amnesty International, and the New York Civil Liberties Union.
The first time I saw those horrendous images on television, I thought about what the attack meant to me personally. Later in the Dimple, I appreciated that my peers shared my fear and confusion, and recognized how fortunate I was to be in the midst of such a supportive community. Now, whenever I see images of the falling towers, I think of my Bosnian tutees and all that has been done in the name of freedom. I entered Wheaton as an undecided major, but because of the tragedy of 9/11, I graduated knowing I wanted to be an advocate for refugees and asylum seekers.
ZOË HACK:
Embracing community
I came to Wheaton from a small school in rural Vermont where there was an incredible sense of community. The hope of finding another strong community was one of the things that first attracted me to Wheaton. I had heard about the close relationships among students, faculty and staff, and had observed people saying hello to each other all across campus. I was thrilled to be here, and thought I had already experienced much of the Wheaton community during orientation and the first weeks of school. But it was 9/11 that made me realize just how strong this community was.
Experiencing a national tragedy so soon after arriving at college was tough, and I initially felt waves of shock and fear and isolation coursing through me. I had been so focused on assimilating into my new environment that I had lost touch with international news and events. I was in a new and strange place, where I didn't feel comfortable enough with anyone to ask for a hug. I didn't know where to turn.
All that changed during the speak-out in the Dimple that afternoon. The entire community came together around this event, providing each other with information, support and camaraderie. As I witnessed this remarkable demonstration of community, I knew Wheaton had been the right choice. I felt so lucky to be in a place where everyone came together to engage in an honest dialogue in which all parties were on an equal playing field. Seeing the strength of the Wheaton community that day is something my classmates and I have never forgotten.
Our harsh induction into this community has stuck with us. I think we take the Wheaton community more seriously than some of our predecessors, and we have taken strides to enhance it. Since 9/11, we have joined in Dimple speak-outs on other topics of concern, such as the war in Iraq and hate crimes on campus. The Class of 2005 knows the importance of the Wheaton community, and we remember how it was there for us when we really needed it. I hope that we have each been able to give back in some way and will continue to do so in our life after graduation.
JOHN HEYWOOD:
Response to adversity
The Class of 2005 had only been at Wheaton for a few days when the terrorist attacks of September 11 occurred. We had yet to find our identity, and 9/11 forced us to do so much earlier than we would have otherwise, as our class was one of the most diverse in Wheaton's history. Our class represented many different states and countries, but as different as we were, September 11 brought us together. While everyone had a unique story of the day, each story had the same tragic beginning; our Wheaton careers all began on this shared path.
I soon realized that the world—and Wheaton—would never be the same. That afternoon, hundreds of us gathered in the Dimple to voice our feelings and assure one another that our community stood together at this time of extreme uncertainty.
September 11 gave rise to controversial U.S. policy decisions that inspired tremendous student activism around campus, which played a major role in my Wheaton education. Politically based student groups flourished, bringing speakers to campus, educating students in meetings and forums, and raising campus awareness of such issues as the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, the Patriot Act, and our deteriorating relationships with countries around the world.
These discussions proved particularly important to me when I studied in Australia in spring 2004, for I found I was able to respond intelligently to the negative opinions that Australians often held about my country and countrymen. As I head to Estonia this September as a Fulbright Scholar, I am confident I will feel comfortable, regardless of the political, social or cultural climates I encounter. My experiences at Wheaton, both in and out of the classroom, have prepared me to respond to adversity and to difference in an educated, reflective and informed manner. Over the past four years, amid the cultural, political and psychological changes stemming from the horrific events of 9/11, I have learned how important it is to understand each side of an issue, so we may better understand the consequences of our actions, at home and abroad.
KATHERINE WIELAND:
Contribution of one
Eleanor Roosevelt once said, "People grow through experience if they meet life honestly and courageously. This is how character is built."
My first days at Wheaton were filled with the promise of the unknown. I admired the quiet confidence exuded by the upperclass students, and I was hopeful that this institution would fashion me into a vibrant, intelligent, fun-loving, respectful, insightful twenty-something.
September 11 was my roommate's 18th birthday, and we had decorated the room with streamers and balloons. As I strolled to class, there was a buzz around campus that something had happened in the city—something about the Twin Towers and a plane. As a native New Yorker, I brushed this off as a simple miscalculation on the part of an air traffic controller. But when I left class, I saw the horror unfold on a television screen in the Science Center. Tears welled in my eyes, and I rushed back to my dorm room.
Later that day, the Wheaton family gathered in the Dimple. I stood numbly listening to SGA President Fred Marcks '02, who had spoken only days before to the freshman class. I don't recall what Fred said, but I do remember that the power and presence of his words helped to quiet my fears.
I left the Dimple filled with a sense of purpose and direction. Through Fred's remarks, I saw what the contribution of one person could mean, and I knew that I too wanted somehow to better the lives of others. This has been my guiding principle in everything I have done at Wheaton, whether serving as a preceptor or senator or anything else.
September 11 was a day that begged you to extend your hand, your shoulder, your very being to your fellow man. Members of my class and beyond have certainly done this. We are active and vocal about the causes we hold dear. We know the power that one voice can hold. We look to effect change in and outside our Wheaton community. These are the truths that 9/11 has left us. As a new Wheaton alumna, I will take these ideals into my first-grade classroom in Connecticut this fall.
