Reflections on 9/11, 15 years later....

This morning, 15 years ago, I was about to head out the door to class, when my Dad called. He said turn on the TV, and that Mom called him from work, and wanted to know if I was OK. So I tuned on the TV, and I saw one of the twin towers on fire. As my Dad and I were talking, a plane crashed into the other twin tower. At that point, I can't fully remember what my Dad and I were talking about. I think we were just speculating as to the whats and whys to what was happening.

My Dad and I spoke for just a little while longer, and before hanging up, he said how glad he was to know that I was alright. I continued to watch the broadcasts, when the first tower came down. It was then that I really started to worry about those who I knew worked in lower Manhattan. After the second tower fell, I was in a state of disbelief, sadness, and anger.

I have to thank my Dad for calling me at that time, because who knows what would have happened to me. On a normal day, I would have been heading for the subway, on my way to SVA. And depending on my mood, and how the trains were running, I could have been on the local R train that runs directly through lower Manhattan and the financial district. Or I could have been on the express N or D trains which would have given me a clear view of the World Trade Center from the Manhattan Bridge.

The remainder of that day, I was just in a fog. I wandered down 4th Avenue, from 44th Street, in Brooklyn, towards Flatbush Avenue. All of the cars, sidewalks and street had a layer of ash building up from the burning of the World Trade Center site. As I was walking, the streets were just quiet, but filled with a bunch of us just wandering, just trying to get a grip on what was happening. I continued to walk up 4th, then down Flatbush toTillary Street, and my old apartment building in Fort Greene.

I decided to go to McDonalds across from my old apartment building, to get something to drink. The parking lot and inside were packed with people. And I remember a man getting loud and angry with a cashier about his change. And that was when a number of people, including myself, confronted this guy and got him to calm down. One of the people said to the guy, "It's not that serious, you see what's going on out here." The man at the counter just shook his head in agreement, and we checked to see if the cashier was OK.

Who knows how the weight of the moment was affecting people. I sat outside of the McDonalds parking lot on the curb and noticed a huge throng of hundreds, if not thousand of people who were coming off the Brooklyn Bridge. All of these people were covered in ash and soot. And again, with all of these people walking, it was just quiet. But the people all looked the same, you could barely tell anyone apart.

I then walked over to Brooklyn Heights, and tried to use pay phones to get a hold of one of my friends who worked in lower Manhattan. For a while, I just kept getting a busy signal, and cell phones didn't work. So I went into a bodega and bought a disposable camera. I then walked over to the Brooklyn Promenade, and was amazed by what I saw. There were a great number of people, some with their hands over their mouths, and other with their heads down, sobbing. Across the promenade was lower Manhattan, and a huge billow of smoke that looked like a volcano. When I saw that huge cloud of smoke engulfing lower Manhattan, it truly hit me as to what I was looking at.

The rest of the day is a blur. I can't even fully remember how I got home, or what I even ate. All subways and public transportation were shut down. All bridges and tunnels were closed, and Manhattan was closed off as well. Later that day I was able to get in touch with my friend, who worked in lower Manhattan. Fortunately for whatever reason, he said he didn't go in that day and was OK.

The next day, train access was limited, and the few trains going into Manhattan were only able to go above 14th street. I remember hoping on the train and going to Union Square, and being startled by how empty the streets were. The movie theater on 12th and Broadway was open though, and showing all movies for free. So to occupy my mind with something mindless, I went in and watched American Pie 2.

I think it was after the movie, that I saw a crowd at Union Square. There were a number of drawings and hopeful messages written in chalk on the ground. It was somber and quiet, as we were all in a circle. I fondly remember a woman with a flag in her hand, that had an uplifting message on it. She knelt down to put this flag between the cracks of the pavement bricks. At that point, I looked around and saw people from every race, religion, and class together as New Yorkers and as Americans... 

"Precious" doesn't make me feel too Precious

First off, for those who haven't seen or plan on seeing the film, Precious, this post may be a spoiler for you. With that said, if you want to see a film about a morbidly obese 16 year old black girl, who is already a mother of a down syndrome child, with another on the way, with both fathered by her own father, and is beaten and verbally abused by her welfare cheating mother, and ultimately finds out that she and her newborn child have AIDS, please go see Precious.

I stated this to frame the disgust and anger that I felt after I viewed this film. I did not come out of the movie theater feeling "Hopeful" as many critics have written in their reviews. I saw this film, not as a film critic, but as a person of African decent who is tired of seeing Black people as a segment of society to be pitied and perpetually looked down upon. Don't get me wrong, the acting was tremendous by the primary and supporting cast, and the story was well put together. But for me, I see this film as a reiteration of the vile images that have been glorified within our mainstream music, television, and films that continue to degrade American society.

The triumph of this film comes when the lead character, Precious fights back against her abusive mother and pushes to gain control over her life and her children. Sadly to say, that is the highest the film goes in terms of a positive outlook on the life of Precious. She still remains a morbidly obese 16 year old black girl, who still must attain her GED, while taking care of a child with down syndrome and one with AIDS, along with having AIDS herself. Where is the bright spot in this equation? What does this girl have to look forward to in her life? And how is she going to make it?

I know that some people reading this may be angry at my pessimistic view. But since I have lived and worked in and around New York City for over 9 years, I've seen far too many Precious Jones. I've seen the morbidly obese teenagers walking around with strollers without the ability to speak with good diction. I know that in New York City, you are lucky to have 50% of the African Americans and Latinos graduate high school within 4 years. These numbers aren't much better in other cities and metropolitan areas around the US either.

African Americans are considered the poorest people in the richest nation of the world. African Americans are considered the most illiterate in the wealthiest country of the world. African Americans are the most unemployed in the United States. And there are more African Americans in prison, than any other race or ethnicity in this country. African Americans are viewed, stereotypically as being on welfare, lazy, and criminal. Images of African Americans as drug dealers, gang bangers, and having a multitude of children with different parents out of wedlock, are the normal representation within mainstream media.

Why aren't the majority of the images portrayed of Whites or Asians, of the most violent and derelict of them? Why are Whites automatically viewed as the leaders or heroes? Why are Asians automatically viewed as the most intelligent or hard working? Such stereotypes make it easier for Whites or Asians to navigate within society, whether it be through the job market, education, or simply walking down the street. When most media perceptions of a people are positive, many individuals have a positive perception that particular group of people. This can also be said for the self-perceptions of that ethnic or racial group. Seeing positive images of your own people allow you to to also feel good about yourself.

In the late 1980's and early 90's, the Cosby Show, and the spin off, A different World were a part of a pervasive and influential part of mainstream media that promoted African American life in a positive direction. Having been a teenager during this time period, I can say from experience that these images had a progressively positive effect on my personal outlook on life. To see Black man as a doctor and Black woman as a lawyer, together as husband and wife on television, changed perceptions of what Black people were supposed to be. And to have a show showing Black people successfully matriculating through college was another milestone for advancement. These, along with the hip hop of the time promoting education, self reliance, and pride in being of African decent pushed the expectation of being great.

I want to see optimism and true hope represented again within mainstream entertainment. I don't want to see the glorification of poverty, obesity, violence, and lack of responsibility. I want to see the successes emulated on TV and in the films that have surrounded me throughout my adulthood. I want to see the stories of my African American high school friends, who have become doctors and lawyers. The stories of my African American college friends who are business owners, executives, professors, architects, doctors, artists and so much more. To know African Americans who have come out of poverty, defied racism, and succeeded without becoming today's stereotypes. These are the stories of HOPE that need to be seen and felt! We all must take the responsibility to demand and create works that uplift and progress the existence of a people that have been portrayed at the bottom for far too long! We cannot bear anymore stories about Precious. Our society cannot survive anymore degradation.