America. The land of the free, and the home of the brave.

Those familiar words rang in the back of my mind as I watched in horror at Sept. 11’s events. Although the word “tragedy” has resonated throughout our campus like a plague, it was far more than that for those whose loved ones laid gasping their last breath under the rubble that once represented power and financial independence for the fiercest country in the world.

Sept. 11’s events caused me to think about the effects of modernism, freedom and knowledge on our country and forced me to realize the depth of which our enemies will go to pierce a country’s heart.

We thought we were too big to fall, too fast to catch and too tall to reach.

We thought if we went about our daily lives, they would never get to us - the big, bad United States of America.

We thought we were too rich, too powerful and too privileged to worry.

But we were wrong.

I had always wondered if my generation would have a particular day in time that we could tell our grandchildren about - a day that we would never forget. Our parents tell us about John F. Kennedy’s assassination with a distant look in their eyes. And our grandparents can’t discuss Pearl Harbor without wiping a tear.

I thought my generation’s apathy would be resolved if we had a monumental event that allowed us to remember exactly where we were when “it” happened - a day that reminded us of the importance of remembering. But I never knew the magnitude or severity of my aspirations.

Always be careful what you wish for.

Sept. 11’s events perplexed us and forced everyone from New York to California to shake their heads, reach for a Kleenex and ask “Why?” Our emotions ranged from rage and anger to love and acceptance of our differences as we questioned the motives of the attackers, wondered how it happened and attempted to fathom why so many innocent lives were lost so fast.

We watched television and read newspapers, feverishly searching for information about the event. We saw teary-eyed men and women recount how they had almost been at work that day and how it should have been them, but for some reason it wasn’t.

We didn’t know how to answer a frightened child who wanted to know why someone would want to kill someone else, or why people did bad things.

And we watched in horror as people clutched the toothbrush or the comb of a person who had not yet been found, a glint of hope and desperation in their eyes.

As industrialized of a country we claim to be - with our Palm Pilots, cell phones and fancy cars - we have fallen.

Our history points to a legacy of grace and perseverance, one that screams, “We are the greatest!” at the top of its lungs every chance it gets. But on Sept. 11, we paid a price for our freedom. We lost lives, we lost respect for others and we lost the confidence that had reassured us for so long.

Maybe this once, it wasn’t all going to be OK. Armed with the knowledge that we had suffered a great loss, we learned from ourselves and those around us in ways we had never deemed possible.

We went to the American Red Cross and gave blood. We donated money to various relief funds to help those who were injured in the blasts.

Flags were flown at half-staff, a quiet glance was stolen at a stranger who was fighting back tears and frantic phone calls were made to those we thought were gone, who merely comforted us with the sound of their voices.

Within an 18-minute time span, we learned knowledge is powerful, and sometimes the hardest lessons come at the greatest price. We learned hate is as strong as love, and we weren’t going to give up without a fight.

We learned the importance of taking care of one another, and we thought twice about our plane tickets and questioned the safety of our homes, jobs and modes of transportation.

But most of all, we learned we really did appreciate one another, despite our busy lives and hectic schedules.

Sept. 11’s events forced us to stop, look and listen. We turned off our cell phones, stopped our cars, held our breath and waited.

America, the country that boasts its modernism and political power, was speechless.

It only makes me wonder if we’ll ever know exactly what to say.

Camille Spencer is the State News minority issues reporter. She can be reached at spenc105@msu.edu.