9/11 and the Power of a Teacher

9/11/2001 happened in my 2nd or 3rd week of teaching.  I had just moved back from New York after a 12-month stint as a volunteer.  As a young, long-term substitute teacher in their first weeks, who had begun in this role only a couple of weeks after the start of school, I was a bit green, to say the least.

That day taught us all many things.  One of those for me was the true power and responsibility of being a teacher.  

I had my planning period first hour.  A teacher came in and said something had happened in New York.  Because I taught Social Studies, I had a TV in my room.  I went there and turned it on.  I didn’t have much time to figure out what was happening before my class was coming in.  

Since I taught history/government, it wasn’t hard to figure out what my class was doing the rest of the day.  We were going to watch history unfold in real-time.  I felt it was my duty to let them watch.  

Each class happened the same way.  I let them watch for a while.  Then I turned down the sound and gave a recap of what had happened so far and took any questions students had.  Each student coming to my class had different knowledge of what was going on.  Some had been watching in their class before, some had literally been doing math problems for the last 45 minutes.  We talked about what they were thinking and feeling.  I shared my thoughts and emotions.  

Because I had just moved from New York less than a month before I was able to give them a unique perspective of the location and what surrounded the area.  I had been in the towers myself literally 2 months before.  I had friends who I was worried about.  Between classes, I emailed as many of them as I could.  

By the end of the day, I was reading first-hand accounts of friends in New York and what they had gone through that day.  Walking home across the Brooklyn Bridge, giving blood, what they saw… and smelled.  How people were coming together.  I wished I had the foresight to save those emails.

I have distinct memories of certain days in my high school days.  For example, the day that we found out that one of our classmates had died the night before.  I remember where I was sitting, what my teacher said, and how I was feeling.  These pictures are seared in my mind.  I can see them just like it was a few days ago.  

And now, I was that teacher.  When these students, now adults, think about 9/11, some of them will remember where they were sitting.  What I, their teacher, said.  And how they were feeling.  I am in their picture.  There is a lot of responsibility in how you react and frame what is going on in those moments.  Humbling.

I have talked to former students who had been in one of my classes that day.  It is interesting to hear what they remember.  

I have been in other crisis situations as a classroom teacher where I was aware that my actions were being seared in the minds of my students.  Too many, unfortunately.

It is also important to realize that we don’t always know when our actions, what we say, how we say it, in our teacher role will impact a student if they are in a vulnerable mindset because of something in their lives that we don’t know about.  

Something to reflect on… the power a teacher has.

I just pray that those situations in my teaching career were more positive than negative.  

As memories come flooding back on this 20th anniversary of 9/11, the classroom experience as a young and dumb teacher is part of what comes to mind.