day fourteen: unity
We are already one. But we imagine that we are not. And what we have to recover is our original unity. What we have to be is what we are.
-Thomas Merton
In this time of national (and global) uncertainty, people have remarked on the similarities between now and 9/11: a feeling of violation combined with vulnerability. While some with less of a safety net will suffer more greatly, leveling the playing field a little bit gives us all an opportunity to be reminded of our connection and unity.
On Thursday September 13, 2001, I did crisis intervention counseling for the employees who worked at Windows on the World, the restaurant at the top of the World Trade Center, and in the dining facilities of adjacent buildings. Two days prior, many of those men and women arrived to see the towers on fire and people jumping. Many lost their job sites and beloved co-workers. As a clinician, nothing in my training taught me how to handle this. Like so many other emergency responders in that era, whether paramedics or firefighters or social workers, I was in unchartered territory. Much like we are now.
On the Tuesday the towers fell, I was living on the east end of Long Island with my one-year old son. I immediately said yes when I received the call to come in and help, but due to bridge and tunnel closures, I couldn’t get into the city until Thursday. The first thing I noticed was that there was a palpable sense of cohesion and calm on the streets. It was something I had never felt before in New York City.
Then I arrived at the site where I’d be counseling. People shared their stories. They listened to each other. What they’d seen. How they felt. The shock. The horror. The irreconcilable loss. I expected all that. But what I didn’t expect was that each and every group I met with wanted to do the same exact thing. They wanted to stand in a circle, hold hands and pray. I took their lead. I was meeting with a mix of kitchen and waitstaff, diverse in every aspect, yet they didn’t care if the hand they were holding on either side of them belonged to someone of a different gender, a different race, a different religion or a different sexual orientation. They didn’t care about the person’s immigration status or who would be sleeping in their bed that night, because in those few days, in their grief and fear, they were the same. We were one.
Those days were a clear expression of America’s motto: e pluribus unum—out of many, one. Over these past few years, however, it has seemed like we moved so far away from cohesion and kept choosing more and more division. Then this pandemic came, and now I see again the opportunity to focus on what connects us, leaving me wondering why we need a horrible crisis to feel united? How do we sustain that sense of empathy and synergy that was palpable after 9/11? We moved on from unthinkable tragedy by standing together with compassion and kindness. In 2001, we did it for a few short months. What would it take for us to do it forever?
Reflective Journal Prompts
Since the global pandemic started, in what ways have you felt a greater connection to the people of your local community, country and the world?
In what ways do you still feel divided? Better than certain people? Different from others? Who and why?
What would it take to find kindness and compassion for all?
Discussion Prompt
Discuss why tragedy brings people together and what it would take to create that kind of unity in slower and more serene times. For children, ask them why they believe human beings are all different and how they feel about our differences and similarities.
Suggested Action
Think of anyone you feel divided from and take an action to feel empathy and compassion for them. If this feels challenging, you may want to do the loving-kindness meditation.