As a teenager born years after Sept. 11, 2001, I’ve only known a world shaped by that tragic day. I wasn’t there to see the four hijacked planes. The two crashed into the World Trade Center’s Twin Towers in New York City, one into the Pentagon in Arlington, VA and the fourth, Flight 93, into a field in Shanksville, PA, after passengers fought back against the hijackers. I didn’t witness the collapse of the towers, the smoke billowing over Manhattan, or the immediate shock and grief that gripped the nation as nearly 3,000 lives were lost in a coordinated attack by 19 Al-Qaeda terrorists. I’ve grown up in its shadow, through documentaries, classroom discussions and my parents’ quiet stories of where they were when the world changed. To me, remembering 9/11 isn’t just about honoring a historical event; it’s about understanding the weight of what happened, the resilience it sparked and the lessons it left behind that still matter today.

For someone like me, who learned about 9/11 through grainy footage and family members’ hushed recollections, the day feels both distant and deeply personal. It’s distant because I can’t fully grasp the raw terror of watching the towers burn live on television or the anguish of families waiting for loved ones who never came home. It’s personal because its impact is all around me, in the long security lines at airports, in the way we talk about freedom versus safety and in the stories of hero firefighters and police officers who ran into danger, or the passengers on Flight 93 who fought to stop further devastation. Seeing first responders climb stairwells choked with smoke in documentaries shown in school, knowing many who entered buildings wouldn’t return. Those were real people, someone’s parent, sibling, friend. Remembering 9/11 helps us appreciate their courage and the unity which emerged from tragedy, when strangers helped strangers and communities rallied to rebuild. It’s a reminder that even in the darkest moments, people can come together and find strength.

With nearly 3,000 people killed, composed of office workers, first responders, airline passengers, shattering families– the impact on how we see the world is a reflection of 9/11 and is a piece of who we are now. With wars sparked in Afghanistan and Iraq, laws reshaped (the Patriot Act), the outcome has made us rethink what safety means, from Transportation Security Administration (TSA) screenings to global counterterrorism efforts. 

It’s easy to take these safety changes for granted, but we forget the risks taken to get here,  losing sight of why our world is this way. Most importantly, it’s about understanding the cost of division, the dangers of hatred and the power of standing together. Their stories deserve to be carried forward, never reduced to a careless joke or meme. Trivializing 9/11 disrespects the pain of survivors, the loss of families and the sacrifices of those who responded, from first responders to the veterans of the wars that followed.

As a teenager, I also see 9/11 as a reminder to stay aware, to question and to care about the world I’m inheriting. We live in a time when division feels loud, on social media, in politics, everywhere and remembering 9/11 shows unity is possible, even when things feel broken. The image of New Yorkers lining up to donate blood or volunteers sifting through rubble for survivors sticks with me, it’s proof of what we can do when we choose compassion over fear. We honor 9/11 not just by looking back, but by living with purpose and compassion today.