I remember being 17 years old, sitting in 4th hour child development class with Mrs. Long. I remember having Erickson's stages of child development drilled into my head for the umpteenth time in 2 weeks. I remember being bored, and eating a Nature Valley granola bar not because I was hungry, but to pass the time. I remember someone barging into our classroom, instructing Mrs. Long to "turn on the T.V. now," then briskly turning and walking out the door. I remember the shock, pain and confusion of watching the plane(s) slam into the World Trade Center, not knowing if it was an accident, a horrible mistake or everyone's worst fear, a heinous act of terrorism. I was in a fog for the rest of the day, and don't remember anything else I did, but I do remember being sick to my stomach at night; laying in bed, sobbing for such a cruel crime and injustice against humanity. Sobbing for the children who lost their mothers and fathers, unable to help imagining my self in their positions at that very moment.
My parents' generations remember the death of JFK. My mom always tells me she was at the airport, with Sheila or Kit, when they announced on the PA that the president had been shot. Whether you admit it or not, such a profound event changes you, and at the very least is a good reference point in life for later reflection, because the memories of the time remain so vivid.
I remember being an awkward 17 year old, not comfortable with herself and still desperately trying to fit into a "high school clique," which I had been unable to do for the previous 3 years of schooling. I remember wanting to desperately to be "cool," to feel "normal," and to "fit-in" by drinking and partying and making out with boys, as was my perception of the teenage experience thanks to movies like American Pie and 10 Things I Hate About You. I remember having nothing to do on the weekends if Caroline wasn't around, and was ecstatic when later that year I fell into the International School crowd, made some friends and finally started going to parties and getting drunk. I remember being so unsure of myself and so craving the approval of my peers, that I would blush from chest to face nearly every time I talked to someone that wasn't in my small, close circle of friends. I remember the agony of waiting on my U of M application, and the disappointment I felt that at Soccer senior night, I wasn't being announced as "Meggie Smith, attending the University of Michigan," because then I would have felt like people really respected, admired or at least recognized that I had achieved something over the past four years. I remember flying home from visiting my brother in Arizona, my eyes so swollen from crying I couldn't even open them, after my mom had called with the news of my rejection letter.
Fast forward to today, September 11, 2006. If you had asked me then where I would be in 5 years, there is no chance in hell I would say, "Geneva, Switzerland, in a house from the 17oo's being an Au pair and writing a blog while waiting to pick the kids up from school." Today is a great day for reflection, to feel sad at what we lost, to remember who you were and to realize how far you've come.
Many people ask, "where were you today, 5 years ago?" I think we should also ask, "who was I today, 5 years ago?"
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