On Remembrance Day we honour the men and women who gave their lives while serving our country. Most of those whom we honour went to war voluntarily and willingly in World Wars I and II, and other wars as well. They volunteered because they believed that they were fighting for peace and to make the lives of their families and all Canadians safe. They made the ultimate sacrifice for the citizens of our country on foreign lands.

Because of their courage and bravery, we treasure and enjoy an enduring legacy of peace in Canada. We must also remember the many who came back wounded from those wars, and who have lived with the after effects of war for the rest of their lives. I don’t want to take away from the honour we owe to all those who serve, but many of us believe that war of any kind is a horrible way to make peace, and we want to find a better way to solve our world’s problems. The price of young lives is just too great to bear.

9/11 was a different kind of war. That horrible day not only exploded on North American lands, but those who were murdered that day just happened to be in the trade towers, Pentagon, and certain airplanes that morning. Firefighters also lost their lives in the line of duty, trying to help others, while many others were affected by family loss or lingering sickness from the smoke and poisonous dust. The legacy of that day of terrorism, for all of us, is one of continued fear.

On 9/11 what we thought was our safe world came tumbling down with the Twin Towers. They had been hit by airplanes, were on fire, and the TV images were horrific! I was working a few hours from New York on that day, in a rural Virginia historic house museum that was a former tobacco plantation. Outside, the rural scene was tranquil—rolling green grass and trees. But on TV, scenes of devastation and horror had my staff immobilized with fear. We were in shock. Life as we knew it, and our world, was in chaos. We felt helpless to do anything to stop the tragedy. Although we were not hurt physically, our trust in humanity and in safety was shattered.

In the following days, I noticed many signs on businesses that read: “God Bless America.” But a few signs wanted revenge, such as “Bomb the Middle East” or “Kill the Bastards.” Then we heard that some of the terrorists were suspected of living nearby with their families in the suburbs, and we began to look suspiciously at our neighbours. We realized that our fear was making us wary of everyone else. Who could we trust? We were becoming so fearful that everyone from the Middle East was suspected of being a terrorist. Then it hit closer to home! Our university employer announced that ALL international students were required to report to the police monthly, and had to keep police advised of their travels. What happened to our equality, and our freedom? I was shocked.

Ten years have passed since 9/11, but I have thought often about that student, and about how our collective terror, left over from that horrific day, has left us with a legacy of fear which hurts us all.

The following term, a student came up and asked me not to say his name aloud when I called the roll. I asked why, and he told me his name was very similar to that of Saddam Hussein, who was being hunted by the USA. The young student said he was being taunted and made fun of by other students. I honoured his request, but was astounded that our collective fear after 9/11 had become so personal for this international student, just because of his name. I went out of my way to help him, and he came and talked to me once in awhile. He thanked me for taking time to help him, but as the course came to an end, he finally told me he might be deported because he did not report on time to the authorities. After he left my office, this young student was on his way to an appointment with immigration authorities, and I never saw him again or learned what happened to him.

Ten years have passed since 9/11, but I have thought often about that student, and about how our collective terror, left over from that horrific day, has left us with a legacy of fear which hurts us all. Many of us have experienced the upgraded security measures at the border or as we travel by air. We have to find the strength and courage to overcome our fear – but how do we overcome our legacy of fear?

There are many suggestions by experts, but I believe living in Edmonton and McCauley is a good place to begin, as many of us came here from other countries. Just living here can be a part of the solution! I find getting to know neighbours, students, and people from other countries, enriches my own life and helps me understand our world. It helps me learn to overcome my own fear left over from 9/11, and begin to trust. It helps me realize that most people are kind and good and are struggling to get along in their daily lives, just like me.

I know we are each only one person, and we may have different norms and values. But as Jack Layton reminded us, “Hope is better than fear, and love is better than hate.” So, if we talk to each other, and try to understand each other, together we can begin to put 9/11 fear behind us, and get on with making the world a better place.

Joanne is a McCauley homeowner, educator, and artist who teaches art education courses at the U of A.