A few weeks ago when I talked about the end of this decade, I mentioned how it didn’t have a name.  That got us talking about not only the name for the decade, but for my generation.  Names like “The Digital Generation,” “The Entitled Generation,” and “Generation Y” were thrown out.  While I had to agree with some of the things you were saying, they also hurt.  They were true, but not the whole truth.

One thing that I have always felt has defined my generation in part is the tragic cruelty of September 11.  Yes, this has affected all Americans, but for the younger generation, it defined our childhood, our teenage years, our early adulthood.  For me, the greatest act of terrorism on American soil happened three weeks after I went to college, moved out from my parents’ home, and started thinking seriously about what career I’d pursue.  If something that huge didn’t affect me and those of my generation, it’d be shocking.

And though the influence of that tragic day 8 years ago can’t be measured (after all, who’s can say what we might have been like otherwise?), I know that the influence is there.

I remember.  More importantly, we remember.

Photo by NJ Scott