My first born daughter was 2 ½ on September 11, 2001.  I remember being extremely grateful that she was oblivious to what was going on, save some anxiety around the house in the days that followed.  We were glued to the TV, while she played, napped, and ate.  I wondered if, subliminally, she was absorbing the images and stories of that day.  Detail after detail flowed in as the days followed and even then I wondered how I would explain it all to her one day.  When would be an appropriate time?  What age?  And more importantly, how?  I knew that many parents struggled with these same questions. 

For several years afterward, every time we were at the airport, my daughter would ask why we had to take off our shoes and walk through the security screenings.  I got by with a simple response: “to keep us safe.”  Then one day early on in third grade my daughter came home and announced that she now knew why we had to take off our shoes when we got on a plane, and it was because someone might have a bomb in their shoes.  She went on to tell us that the United States government supports Israel and gives Israel millions of dollars every year because it’s the only democracy and friend to the United States in the Middle East. What did she know about bombs and Middle East politics?  I couldn’t help but think of the diversity of children in her third grade class.  Some of her best friends since kindergarten were Israeli, Iranian, and Jordanian.  I had so carefully protected her from knowledge of 9-11 and the real reason why we need airport security.  I knew that despite her outgoing and bold personality, deep down she was quite sensitive and believed sincerely in equality and friendship among all people.  I wanted to cherish her innocence, protect it, save her soul from the emotional weight of simply knowing how horribly human beings have treated each other all throughout history.  How could my fun-loving  8 year old possibly comprehend the tragedy and horror of one day?  And just as 9-11 changed American society forever, in one day my daughter’s innocence was gone.  The time had come, albeit earlier than I had planned, to explain it to her in an age-appropriate way.  I trembled at the thought.

A few weeks later on Back to School Night, after the teacher’s presentation about curriculum and discipline and textbooks and recess, I raised my hand politely.  In a room full of parents I asked, “Could you explain to us how and why the subject of 9-11 came up in class?”  Not one to hide my emotions very well, my disapproval was evident.  The teacher seemed a bit caught off guard by the question and explained that a classmate had brought the photo book to class and the kids were looking at it in awe during recess.  He said that he felt compelled to address the photos and explain what happened in order to dispel rumors and misinformation among the young children. I accepted his response, but in reality, it was all I could do not to ask more questions and probe deeper into why he felt compelled to expound on international relations and Middle East politics to third graders.  Needless to say, we had some difficult family discussions in the months that followed.  Such discussions have no doubt been repeated in many homes, with many children in the past 10 years.  And the discussions always end with “but why…?”

Now my daughter is 12 and in a strange way, I am relieved that she’s at an age where we can have an intelligent, informative conversation about the events of 9-11. It is my hope that we will watch some of the 10th anniversary news coverage together.  I’ve realized that while I can never fully explain – let alone comprehend for myself- the events of that day, the best I can do is to be a role model of compassion, tolerance, and respect. After all, isn’t that the best we can do as parents? As a working mother, I am always mindful of the example that I am setting for my two daughters.  My oldest daughter simply assumes that she will have a career.   I see her embrace diversity every day among her friends and teachers and it certainly helps that we live in a multicultural metropolis like Los Angeles. It’s hard to believe that it’s been ten years and it pains me to know that my children will never know a world without 9-11.  In another few years I will find myself explaining 9-11 to my youngest daughter and it will be no easier the second time around.  Ever the idealist, I’ve decided to focus on love, heroism, humanity, and the positive lessons that we can learn from that day.  If we are to move forward and heal, rather than hate, it is the only way to go.