I remember.

Has it really been seven years? It seems like just yesterday the world changed and yet, it feels like it has always been this way.

I woke up in Syracuse and, like a good Newhouse student, turned on CNN to catch up on the news while getting ready for class. I heard about the first plane, and watched the second plane live. I debated whether or not to wake up my roommate (sorry, N!). I called Matt at West Point for some reassurance, and raged against Bush's announcement that the nation was under terrorist attack. I was in denial.

I prayed in Hendricks Chapel later that day and was comforted by the feeling of unity across the campus. I wasn't expecting the racist attacks levied against me - some by people I had considered friends. Thank goodness for a few amazing students and professors who held my hand and cried with me.


Where were you?