Johnathan Drury was born in Memphis, Tennessee. His parents, my parents – Mahrou and Michael – were ecstatic that after two girls, they now had a precious baby boy.
I remember coming to the hospital and peering up at a hospital cradle where my newborn brother was wriggling around.
As we grew up along with my sister Siobhan, we had the usual sibling fights, got over it, laughed, joked and played around, cried, and at the end of the day – loved each other. We loved our parents too, through the good and the bad. Yet, it wasn’t until nine years later that we would realize how important they were to us…how important we were to each other.
SEPTEMBER 11, 2001
I was working on learning state capitals in my seventh-grade geography class at Germantown Middle School when the news broke. Two planes had hit the iconic twin towers of New York City’s World Trade Center along with one hitting the Pentagon and another deterred to a field in the Pennsylvania countryside. My teacher wheeled in a small television set. My body froze as I saw the now infamous scene of the twin towers engulfed in flames and smoke.
All I could do was stare in disbelief as my teacher clicked between news channels, chaotic images emanating from each one. A friend of mine tapped my shoulder, asking if my father was there. My body went numb as I remembered. My father, an economist, had left for New York days ago for a business trip. He was attending the annual N.A.B.E. and A.U.B.E.R business conference that was in the World Trade Center. I did not know it at the time, but he was in the north tower – the first tower to be hit.
My thoughts quickly went to Johnathan who was in elementary school at the time. I wondered if he, at nine years old, was also watching these events unfold. I was heartbroken that today of all days this was happening – his birthday. I prayed that somehow his school hadn’t heard of what had happened.
That afternoon when I got home, my mother told me, my sister and brother what had happened. She explained what a terrorist was, that what had happened had been a terrorist attacks. She said that our father had been able to get in touch with her and tell her he was all right. He had been on a low floor and escaped safely along with every single one of his colleagues from the conference. However, the towers had collapsed and she was unsure if he was alright after that, where he was, or how he’d get home. My siblings and I just stared at each and at her. I still couldn’t even understand why someone would fly a plane into a building, knowingly killing thousands of people…I honestly still don’t.
My father eventually made it home. He had a suitcase with dusty clothes and items from that day. One significant item he showed me was a dollar bill. He was given it with other change by a taxi cab driver as he was dropped off at the World Trade Center. The bill had one of those prayers written on it in pen – you know, the ones people expect you to write on ten more dollar bills or something. At the time he got it, my dad just put it in his wallet and didn’t think much more of it. Today, its one of his most important possessions. He makes sure he has it with him on every trip.
One night many weeks after he had returned home, my father told me what he had seen that day, the horror of the attacks and the heroism of everyday people. When he finished, he looked up at me with tears—it was the first time I had ever seen my father cry. He told me how that day – September 11th – would change things…. for him, our family, the country— everything would change.
And it did. It has been 11 years since the terrorist attacks and I have seen those events affect my youth, my thoughts, who I am as a woman today, and how I live.
GROWING UP WITH THE EFFECTS OF 9/11
Whenever I’ve filled out a test OR a questionnaire…I’ve always approached the “What ethnicity are you” question with difficulty. My mother’s family is from Esfahan, Iran and yet she also has Russian and Armenian roots. My father was born in America, in Niagara Falls, New York and grew up in Boston, Massachusetts. His family is a mix of prominent European nations – England, Ireland, and France. So you see – I was never sure what to put down, being so mixed and proud of it.
When I was young, I embraced all of my family’s backgrounds. (Photo courtesy of Drury)
Growing up in the South, Germantown, Tennessee to be exact, definitely had an impact on how I viewed myself, and how other people react to change and fear. I knew and liked that I was mixed. I had a respect and love for so many places. However, in schools and even by complete strangers – I would subtly be told by some that I was…different. Even if I explained my background, to most I was just that Persian girl, tan girl, Mid-Eastern girl.
I would brush it aside, thinking not much of it.
Then, after 9/11…people who had just a week ago been friendly faces who would wish me and my family well acted as if I was dirt.
I was called Osama bin Laden’s niece, pushed around in hallways, and felt like an alien in my skin. I didn’t understand how people could treat me that way. I had nearly lost my father because of the attacks—how could anyone see me as a terrorist?
I wanted to understand what was happening. Why were people treating me differently? Who was behind the attacks? How could anything this terrible have happened?
My father didn’t like discussing any of this. My mother didn’t know how to speak without getting upset. They did their best to keep people from harassing me and my siblings but parents can only do so much…and kids in school can be pretty cruel.
I turned to the only sensible outlet I knew that could help tell me what was going on, and tell it to me straight – the news. I learned that my generation would be dealing with the repercussions of 9/11 for many years to come. From tightened security to an economic crisis to Islam phobia to thousands of soldiers overseas, an event that had happened when we were children would affect us until college and possibly longer.
INSPIRED TO DOCUMENT
I began to care more about what was going on in our country and around the world. Over the years, I would absorb myself with learning more about the attacks…and soon everything that was going on in our nation and the rest of the world.
Sharareh Drury and her father, Michael Drury, with her National Student Television Award for Excellence from the Academy of Television Arts & Sciences. She won the award in 2007 for her documentary, “September 11th, 2001: The Story of NABE and AUBER”.
After seeing so many reports about 9/11 and having developed my skills as a reporter for a few years at my high school’s student-run television station, I thought it would be possible for me to do something similar for my father and his colleagues. I worked on a documentary to help them discuss the attacks and finally find peace.
The documentary won a national Student Television Award for Excellence from the Academy of Television Arts & Sciences. At the awards ceremony for the documentary, I dedicated the documentary to my father, my family, and all of those who had lost their lives on Sept. 11, 2001 and their families. When I stood taking photos holding the award with my father, I remembered how years before, he had told me everything would change.
SEPTEMBER 11TH, 2012
Much has changed. I and so many others my age grew up in a country trying to find its balance after being hit so hard. We’ve learned that despite all the tragedy of 9/11 and hardships our country has faced since, there is still a possibility to chase a dream and perhaps even accomplish it.
After 11 years, 9/11 still holds an incredible amount of importance to me. It’s my younger brother Jonathan’s birthday. In 2001, it became the day my father would be in one of the World Trade Center towers during the worst terrorist attack in U.S. history and he got out alive. Then in 2009, it oddly enough was my first date with my loving boyfriend Dallas of now three years.
I have seen and been through so much in the years since 9/11 – successes and failures, pursued goals and found new interests. This goes for me and anyone reading this of course, anyone in the country affected by 9/11, anyone in the world really. Though there was much fear, sadness, and confusion at the beginning…the years following have been over a decade of continual life, love, and learning.
I know that day changed me and who I am. It made me stronger, wiser, and most of all — thankful. Thankful that to this day my father survived. Thankful that my brother was able to have a father for so many birthdays after 9/11. Thankful that I found Dallas who has helped me to live life to the fullest. Thankful that I live in a country that won’t let anything knock it down completely.
September 11th is a day that holds numerous meanings to me. It has held meaning to me since 1992. It will continue to mean so much to me for the rest of my life. Above all else, it’s a day that proves life goes on. One event cannot take over our lives. We must never stop living life, and never let those attacks keep us in terror and fear. We must always remember…and always keep moving forward.
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