How 9/11 Changed My World

I didn't live in New York. I didn't have family there. I wasn't in business when it happened. I didn't go to public school. I was 14 in 2001. Outwardly, nothing changed for me. But inside, many things did.

I was raised as a Jehovah's Witness (I am no longer one, having been disfellowshipped). My parents were extremely strict and sheltering. I was homeschooled. I did not know anybody who was not a JW. Everything I did centered around the religion. I spent at least 70 hours a month preaching, I went to church three times a week, I studed ahead for church, I atended church functions. Religion was not part of my life, it was my life.

I remember that morning very clearly. I was getting ready to go preaching. Someone was going to pick me up at home and I was going to be out all day. I had finished showering and was walking through the living room on my way to eat breakfast when I glanced at the TV, and saw the first plane go into one of the towers. I was shocked. I stared at the TV for what seems like forever. My mother was calmly sitting on the couch eating cereal. When she saw my reaction, she nonchalantly said, "It's ok. Don't worry about it." I continued to stare and could not believe what I was seeing. Who had done this? Why? How should I feel about it? Jehovah's Witnesses are supposed to be neutral to politics, peaceful, not have an opinion or get involved.

I had to leave to be on time for a church meeting before preaching, so I left. In the car all day that was all that was on the radio. Businesses were closed. Some of the schools closed. I wanted to scream and cry ask what was going to happen, but I couldn't. My religion wouldn't let me. Instead, I went to people's doors, trying to share a Bible verse to "comfort" them. Mostly people were apalled that I was at their. There was no comforting that day.

That's the day my feelings about my religion had changed. Until then, I had blindly followed, trying to please my parents and everyone I knew. 9/11 was a wake-up call to me. How could I follow a religion that would not fight for it's people? If there is a cause worth fighting for, wouldn't it be to protect our homeland? If there is a time where it's ok to stop everything and feel the pain of the person next to you, wouldn't it be then? Instead of only feeling grief for the Jehovah's Witnesses that died that day, shouldn't we grieve for everyone? Not only those that died, but their families? Shouldn't we grieve for those who didn't die? We used the events of that die to try to preach to others the teachings of Jehovah's Witnesses. To try to say that our beliefs were better. But they weren't. We weren't really helping anyone, not even ourselves. I was preaching to people about a time when everyone might live forever, but that day I had realized my own mortality. That my religion did not guarantee my life. And that I was being pushed in the wrong direction.

This is not a great story like others have written today. This is not a great memorial to those that died that day, or those that have died avenging them. Nor am I saying that religion is bad, or even that Jehovah's Witnesses are bad. It's just a story of the turmoil that day caused within a confused kid. That day began a long chain of events that has led me to where I am now, a happy, healthy person with her own opinions and views.