At 25 it’s hard for me to understand how a 14 year old could ever understand this book — let alone write it.
I look back to when I was in middle school: What was my outlook on life? What were my passions? Who was I? What were my thoughts on life-changing events for the world?
Today I was asked where I was on September 11, 2001. I was 13 years old. I was at school. We heard about the attacks. I was scared. I don’t remember having an opinion. I’m still not sure that I really do. I don’t know whom to believe which makes me slightly indifferent to such a powerful event in my country’s history.
It’s disappointing that reading a book about events I wasn’t even alive for bring me such heartache, while speaking about September 11 leaves me giving a shoulder shrug and a detached response.
Reading the Diary of a Young Girl | Anne Frank it’s hard to believe such a young girl can have the talent to write about events (personal and world wide) in such great detail and thoughtfulness. A girl of 14 years can capture and understand much more about life than many adults do today. A girl who more than deserved having her story heard.
I don’t know what I expect to happen for me to feel for the very real people who suffered on that day in 2001; I don’t know what I’m looking for. Until then, I do understand what happened to my country, to it’s people – but maybe reading hits me harder than watching news stories on the television. News stories that make events seem so distant and far away — seem like the typical violence seen in every day films.
I don’t mean to disrespect any families nor friends of those personally affected by the events on September 11 , 2001. It’s simply something for me to reflect on, to try to understand.