This week, I had the privilege of sitting down with three remarkable young women who all had parents who died in the north tower of the World Trade Center on September 11, 2001.
And here is what I learned: America, you need to listen to your daughters.
They're tough. Anne Earthman was 11 when her mother died on the 34th floor, 12 when they found her body almost a year later. And that was the day she decided she needed to do something to protect her family and her country. Now she's 21 and majoring in criminal justice at college; she hopes to someday work at the federal Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms.
They're smart. Alexandra Wald, now 23, could have turned away from any mention of the fundamentalist branch of the religion so many blamed for the death of her father. Instead, she studied Arabic and the Islamic faith so she could better understand the broader world and her place in it. She has been an intern at the Department of Homeland Security and she wants to join the intelligence community, so that we never have another 9/11 again.
They're caring. Susan Esposito Lombardo overcame her grief and anger to start the only bereavement center for kids in Manhattan. After the loss of her beloved father, she wants to insure that no child is left alone and unheard after the death of a parent. A Caring Hand, the center she founded, isn't just for 9/11 sons and daughters, it's for children who have lost parents to cancer, car accidents, murder and, yes, terrorism.
None of these women wants to be known as a daughter of 9/11 nor do they want their parents to be known as the victims of 9/11.
"This is not my father's whole life,'' Susan told me.
"I don't want my father to be remembered as the heavy-set man who couldn't make it down the stairs and gave up,'' Alexandra said in our conversation about news reports of her father's death. "He was the rock of our family.''
I knew that talking to these women would be moving. But what struck me was the depth of their hope and resilience in the face of such terrible agony. They found that in channeling their pain into efforts to help others, they were also doing something for themselves and for the memory of their parents.
That's why we should listen to them. What they've learned is something that we can all learn, both as individuals and as a country. I think of them as beacons, showing us a way to a future beyond 9/11, where we think beyond ourselves as a way to heal ourselves.
These women are flesh and blood, just like you and me. Susan jokes that she started a foundation so that she would stop fantasizing about running over someone with her car out of rage (maybe you have to have gone through a death to understand that feeling ). And Anne gives you the sweetest smile when she says that she can't wait to lock up the bad guys. She knows her mother would say that she raised a "tough little cookie.''
If you've lost someone you've loved deeply then you know what these daughters know: Love endures. And the best way to honor it and keep it alive is to do something loving -- whether it's protecting your country or a child, looking for justice, or seeking a better understanding of someone different than you.
Yes, these daughters are beacons and they made me think of my favorite beacon, the Statue of Liberty, boldly standing watch over New York Harbor. After 9/11, I was worried about her. How safe was she? What if they attacked her? My grandparents, both my Lebanese and my Italian ones, came to this country through Ellis Island. The Lady of the Harbor was the first sign they had arrived in the land of the free. They cried when they saw her. I cried when they told me about it.
Talking to Anne, Alexandra and Susan reminded me that the real beacons in our lives are always there: our neighbors, our friends, our citizens and our daughters -- the tough ones, the smart ones, the compassionate ones. They have fought the anger and ideas of vengeance, choked back their tears and ten years later they are lighting the way to finding a peaceful and productive future. All we have to do is listen.
Follow Marlo Thomas on Twitter: www.twitter.com/MarloThomas
Bishop Gene Robinson: What Have We Learned in the 10 Years Since 9/11?
Rosemarie Pace: Pax Christi Metro New York Statement on the 9/11 Anniversary
Imam Abdullah Antepli: Prophet Joseph And 9/11
All those girls in football, baseball, basketball, hogging everyone's attention from coast to coast all year round. I mean, really. Who do they think they are?
Whether it is going to be peace or war these ladies will be ready I hope he rest of us are!
In 1972, you changed my life. And here you are doing it again for all of us.
Love you! Love what you do!
I'm sure there are plenty of sons there too doing wonderful things.
NOT the message here.
An article titled America...Listen To Your Sons would create division and anger since males are SO overrepresented in all aspects of life they need to listen instead of being heard.
Does that about cover it, Marlo?
Imagine if it *had* been reversed, however, What if, say, Phil Donahue wrote about "The Sons Of 9/11." How would you feel?
Yes, Thomas likes to work with girls and women. But there is no particular reason for making a gender distinction in this case.
Not all subjects do, and in some cases it borders on the
absurd to try to inject such a focus. Yes, this author prefers
to "specialize" on gender - that's her prerogative. The problem
is that there is no subject on earth that she will not try to make
about gender. This is silly at best and a pathological obsession
at worst. I look forward to her gender-based analysis of global warming.
I personally think that it's a very unfortunate way of injecting gender into a tragedy that was not about gender. If it was about the Montreal Massacre - a tragedy in which women *were* targeted - that would be different.
People argue that other articles focus on the men of 9/11, and that Thomas is addressing *that* imbalance. Well, there are also articles singling out the women firefighters, first responders, etc.
What bothers me is that we have heard very little at all about the male relatives of 9/11 victims. It doesn't allow men to grieve openly, and it reinforces the stereotype of men as stoic and unfeeling.