Memories and Memorials
by Claire Zulkey

We have been memorializing Sept. 11 since almost immediately after it happened. Once we had recovered, slightly, from the shock, once commercials began broadcasting again, once we pried ourselves away from CNN, if we weren't personally memorializing, we were surrounded by Sept. 11 memorials.

They came in all shapes and sizes, from civic, propagandistic and celebrity to the personal, opportunistic and even ugly. A week after planes crashed into the World Trade Center, the Pentagon and the Pennsylvania dirt, cities around the nation staged memorials with song, prayer and patriotism. And since then, memorials have only gotten larger and more visible. Some have been touching, some tacky, and some downright exploitive. The celebrity phone-a-thon. Michael Jackson's attempted tribute, aborted after it was discovered that the producer had previous ties to pornography. The tribute songs, referencing everyone from Todd Beamer to John Walker Lindh. The flying eagle at the World Series. The Super Bowl extravaganza featuring U2 and a Beatle. Contests for how to rebuild the WTC. And then, of course, Osama Bin Laden punching bags and toilet paper.

And all this is fine. Just as when a family bonds together after tragedy, our nation needed itself after Sept. 11. We needed to reaffirm our existence as humans, as a family, as a nation, and people find solace — or even distraction — where they can (or even if they're making a buck in the process).

But Sept. 11, 2002 should not be about memorializing. It should be about remembering and mourning. Because at the heart of the matter is not America, or terrorism, or even heroism. Sept. 11, no matter how much we like to admit our strength and courage in the face of adversity, should be about the victims: those who died at the Pentagon, at the World Trade Center and in the airplanes.

Human lives were lost. It's tempting to automatically aggrandize it: Yes, lives were lost, but so was our innocence, our bravado, our sense of security.

But no matter how saddened and terrified we've been, the most painful losses were felt by the loved ones of those who perished. For this day, it's time to think about them. When a family member or friend dies, we remember them with thought and prayer and meditation, not singing or T-shirts or celebrities.

In some ways, memorializing on a grand scale could be an inadvertent way to avoid remembering how Sept. 11 affected us on a personal, individual level. By subsuming ourselves in some mass ritual memorial, we might be burying the real, individual feelings we had as we watched events unfold on TV or as we listened to the radio. But decades from now, when the time comes to pass on our memories of Sept. 11 to a hopefully more innocent generation, we should pass on where we were and what we felt. Staying glued to the TV or participating in a mass memorial is not the way to recall the personal feelings we need to truly remember this date.

Memorializing is fine for the big picture. But for Sept. 11, the actual day, we don't need to live through the entire experience again; we were there, we remember. And we don't need to wave our flags, sing "God Bless America" or march in the streets. If we haven't found the right way to memorialize by now, then it won't ever happen, so there's no need to prove how well we can remember en masse. And if we need to keep trying, maybe we can take a day off. That day would be the anniversary of Sept. 11.

E-mail Claire Zulkey at clairezulkey@hotmail.com.