09/11/2026
Twenty-Five Years Later: Remembering September 11
Twenty-five years ago today, I was standing in an elementary classroom teaching a lesson about kindness.
As I changed classes, I noticed people speaking quietly in the hallway. I stepped into the library, where the news was reporting that a plane had struck one of the Twin Towers. Within moments, we began to understand that this was not an accident—and that our world had just changed forever.
I was called to the office as our school activated its emergency procedures. My responsibility was to stand at the front entrance and verify the identity of every parent who came to pick up a child. A law enforcement officer was stationed there with me. What made the moment even more heartbreaking was knowing that he had family in New York City. While helping protect our students, he was also carrying the fear and uncertainty of not knowing whether his own loved ones were safe.
As I stood there, my thoughts immediately turned to my children. Nicholus was sitting in his own elementary school classroom, and I knew his school was following the same safety procedures as ours. Samantha was at home with my mother, so I knew she was safe and secure.
Over the years, people have asked me, “Why didn’t you go get your son?”
The answer speaks to something people may not always recognize about educators. I trusted that Nicholus’s teacher was doing everything possible to protect and care for him, just as I had a responsibility to remain at my school and care for the children entrusted to us.
Would I have loved to hold him close and reassure myself that he was safe? Absolutely. Every part of me wanted to do that. But educators often care for other people’s children while trusting another teacher to care for their own. It is one of the quiet sacrifices that comes with answering the call to serve children.
As the images continued to unfold that day, the terrible reality became clear: life as we knew it would never be quite the same. So many innocent lives were lost. Families were forever changed. First responders and ordinary citizens demonstrated extraordinary courage, compassion, and selflessness.
Yet amid that unimaginable tragedy, something remarkable happened. Our country came together. Differences seemed smaller, neighbors reached out to neighbors, and people looked for ways to help one another. We were reminded that, even in our darkest moments, unity and kindness can give us strength.
Twenty-five years later, after more than three decades of serving children as a teacher and school counselor, I still believe deeply in the lesson I was teaching that morning. Kindness matters. Compassion matters. Looking after one another matters.
As we remember those who lost their lives, the families who still carry that loss, and the heroes who ran toward danger, may we also remember the unity that followed. My hope is that we can find our way back to that spirit—not through another tragedy, but through a shared commitment to care for one another.
May we never forget September 11, 2001—and may we never forget how strong we can be when we stand together.
