The 9/11 Memorial

Hey, this is the other Katelyn (the Journalism/Creative Writing/Anthro one) and I'm finally wound down enough to write a blog post, just as we're winding down in New York City.  I've always dreamed about coming here in a Woody Allen/Spike Lee/Martin Scorsese fueled fervor, and I'm happy to report that, though slightly less neurotic and not quite as grimy, New York City was absolutely perfect. From day one, when I was first taken on a wild cab drive by a barely English speaking guy who left me somewhere around 30th St. before coming back to my rescue, I've dreaded leaving NYC (though admittedly London cushions the blow). Still, I feel certain that one day I'll be back here- hopefully as a Columbia J School grad student, but I'll settle for anything.


Speaking of neuroticism, I've noticed a sense of anxiety permeating this city; Dr. Berry said that New York City has PTSD from the 9/11 attacks, and I think that's a fairly accurate assessment. "If you see something, say something" is plastered everywhere, and the sentiment has a little more resonance here. On Friday, my small group was sent to the September 11th Memorial: two large fountains pouring into a never-filled center gap, with the whole affair lined by the names and locations of the tragedy's victims. The vastness of the memorial is affecting, but, as my group discussed, it was also emotionally confusing. We all agreed that the concept of making an absence present or felt was well represented by the two gaping pits in the fountains' middles, but additionally found the design of the memorial rigid and a little cold in a way that felt too encouraging of mourning. Oddly enough, I thought the best parts of the memorial were the kiosks that could be used for finding the quadrant on which specific victims' names were carved. Two were born in Tucson. I wish I had thought to take pictures of them, but I felt too overwhelmed by the place, by the idea that so many people had died, perhaps right near where I was standing; on the walk through TriBeCa to the memorial I could swear I remembered footage of the bloodied and sobbing rushing through ashy streets. That, in the end, was what made this memorial very different from others I've been to. The single distance here was time, and even then, it's been only 12 short years. However staid the memorial's design, the memory of the memorialized was raw.    


 Our visit provoked discussion about other tragedies, other memorials, our faint memories of 9/11, and our ideas about how the event in question shaped our upbringings. Have we been taught to be more suspicious, less trusting? Do we believe the world is a more dangerous place? What about 9/11 exactly made such an impact, left such a shock? We couldn't answer all of our questions, but we did think, and we did remember so the memorial was ultimately successful, and I think I will carry its impact around with me for far longer than this program lasts.    

The center of one of the fountains (clearly Photojournalism is a class I'm taking next semester) 

Some of the engraved names- these were first responders, and their professions are listed

A few left flowers or American flags in the indents of the names. I wondered if these victims were random selections or personal relations.

Looking down to one of the corners of the square fountain

The under-construction Freedom Tower from inside the memorial's security checkpoint