HSU Reacts to Terrorism

HSU students turned to art to express their feelings on the September 11 attacks. photos by Kevin Bell

In the early morning hours of a Tuesday — before the sun rose to mark the new day, while many of us still slept soundly in our beds — news too shocking to believe came from across the country, abruptly pulling us from our slumber.

Together, the images replayed like a bad Hollywood movie. Planes crashing into buildings and massive towers, which once stood like undefeatable titans, came crumbling down to mere rubble while terrified civilians ran for safety.

We had never witnessed such destruction — such great loss of human life in one single moment — in all our lifetimes, on our own soil.

While terrorism sent buildings crashing down on the East Coast, the ripples of its aftermath reverberated across the country, the world and even in Humboldt County … on our very own campus … where students and faculty alike were left to grapple with emotions of grief, anger and fear. Classes were cancelled that morning, and many students and faculty dispersed to the quad, watched for the latest news or called friends and family.

By noon of that Tuesday, Van Duzer Theatre was packed with students and faculty still reeling from the news of the morning. Associated Students quickly organized a forum discussion of the attacks, and many came in a desperate search for answers to make sense of their sorrow.

Fear of what may lie ahead was expressed when one student spoke.

“Our thinly veiled world of security has been ripped away,” he said gravely.

“Now we are what we never thought we would be — vulnerable”

However, no answers were provided that day, nor was any reassurance of our safety. But simply an opportunity was given for those wishing to voice the intense emotions they each felt.

Yet, despite the immense sadness of the dark acts perpetrated that morning, a light of hope was shed with the positive messages conveyed in that room. Students and faculty, of all ethnic backgrounds, spoke of unity as a community and as a nation, with tolerance of each other’s opinions.

One girl added, “They are all valid, right or wrong.”

Many warned against racial profiling and placing blame on any particular ethnic group, reminding everyone of America’s treatment towards Japanese-Americans in the aftermath of Pearl Harbor. One woman even extended compassion for “people who will hate us so much that they would do something so horrific.”

Theater professor, Dave Mooreland added to the stream of encouraging words, “I am more heartened now than I was an hour ago, and feeling the energy in this room gives me a renewed sense of hope.”

Amidst the optimism, there were those still struggling with their anger, and grief.

“I’m having a hard time reconciling this,” was all one young man said with complete frustration written across his face, “I’m sorry, but I just can’t.”

After the clock tower rang 12 solemn tolls, the president of Associated Students addressed the crowd of more than 300 people gathered in the University’s quad on a warm Friday. People wore white ribbons and held lit candles that had been passed out to them for the occasion — a memorial service for those who lost their lives in the attack.

Arcata community members and HSU students participate in a memorial service on the HSU campus for the victims of the September 11 attacks.

“We hold this memorial service,” he said, “so that these victims of hate may be remembered in love.”

A somber rendition of “Amazing Grace” was played on bagpipes, and a student gave an acoustic performance of a song he wrote about the attacks. Singing to a moved audience, the words, “I pray these lives will not be lost for nothing,” were lifted in music.

Then the microphone was open for anyone who wished to speak, and express their sympathy, heartache and pain as they remembered loved ones who died or narrowly escaped harm. A woman gave a heartfelt thank you to the firemen, police officers and rescue workers who lost their lives trying to save others.

People also urge others to be supportive of the different reactions regarding the attacks.

A student added, “Good and bad are interrelated. … We must connect our souls as we never have before.”

Political points of view were also voiced that afternoon. Messages against war rang loud and clear, with people urging others to give peace a chance.

One man claimed with blunt candor, “Fighting for peace is like screwing for virginity.”

Throughout the afternoon, the overall political sentiment seemed to be denouncing war. As one man asked the young men in the crowd to rethink their decisions before hightailing it to Canada, should they ever be drafted.
An angry voice interrupted, “We don’t want war!”

In the crowd, another young man listened to messages, which mostly condemned any aspect of war and some hinting that America had some blame to the disaster. Feeling compelled to speak, yet desperately trying to keep his knees from shaking; he worked up the courage to address the crowd. Daniel E. Lee, a transfer student from Menifee, Ca., took to the microphone.

“America’s been attacked before,” he began his speech, “from the British who burned down Washington in 1812 to Pearl Harbor. And each time, men have stood up and fought for our freedoms, given their lives to do that. … And that’s one of the reasons we can be here today and give public opinion, because of those men who fought and died for our rights,”

Throughout his speech, the heartbreaking images of people falling to their deaths and stories of victims making final calls to loved ones ran through his mind.

Pausing for a moment to keep his composure, he added, “And that’s why I decided to join the army.”

A soft hand was placed on his shoulder. Turning, he saw a young woman with tears in her eyes.

“Thank you,” she said, fighting back her tears. “Thank you for standing up for our country. My brother’s fiancé was on one of those planes. It’s wonderful to know someone will to stand up for her, too.”

Professor Abdul Aziz has seen the ugly consequences of war. He was just 11 years old when his parents moved the family from India to Pakistan in the late 1940s. Then, Pakistan was a newly formed country created on the basis of religion. Those who were Muslim were forced to move to Pakistan, and India became a Hindu country.
During the transition, as Hindus and Muslims moved from one homeland to another, bitter feelings toward one another erupted into bloodshed.

“It was a terrible time,” the HSU finance professor recalled. “I was young, yes. But those kinds of things, you can’t forget — killings, massacres.” Aziz paused to reflect the vivid, yet painful memories of his childhood.

“There is such hopelessness in war, in religious strife,” he said, “because it continues in a cycle that never seems to stop. The Koran says, ‘Killing one human is like killing all of humanity.’”

Abdul Aziz speaks at a memorial in Eureka. He stressed the peacefullness of true Islam.

Like many others on campus, Aziz was stunned by the attacks. And although he shared the same emotions of sorrow and grief as many others, he also feared the negative feelings against Arab Americans that may result of the tragedy.

In a recent CBS/The New York Times poll, 15 percent of Americans admitted to negative feelings toward Arab Americans. Additionally, a recent Gallup poll found only 7 percent of Americans claimed to understand Islam well.

Speaking in several discussion groups and lending his insight to whoever will listen, Aziz strives to educate people about Middle Eastern and Islamic issues. A firm believer in his faith, he is committed to conveying the true messages of Islam, which he said is “pure love and understanding of one another.”

Although Aziz said he hasn’t experienced any forms of backlash yet, he is aware many Arab Americans across the country have not been so lucky. In Arcata, there have been reports of hate crimes committed against Arab Americans.

Shantaram Jones — born in Calcutta, India, and is now a communications major at HSU — was at Hutchinson’s (a local convenience store where he works as a cashier) when he was met with hate a couple days after the attacks.

A man threatened to kill him with “an A-K” as soon as the country went into war. Although Jones reported the incident, he still feels a sense of helplessness.

“It’s just sad, you know,” Jones said, “ that I have to be more cautious and protect myself because of the color of my skin.”

“These people are resorting to exactly what those terrorists did to those people who were simply working at the World Trade Center or flying a plane,” he said. “They didn’t know who was coming to kill them. There was no personal animosity between them. It’s the same thing here. The Arab American has not done anything, and yet someone comes wishing to do harm to them.”

Aziz shakes his head, “It’s the same thing.”

As a college student in New Jersey, one of Betsy Watson’s favorite things to do at night was to go with her friends to the top of one of the buildings on campus and watch the view of the New Jersey harbor. And across the harbor, they could see the lower eastside of Manhattan, where in one area, the new World Trade Center was being built.

“You couldn’t see the workers, but the construction site was so well-lit,” Watson said. “You just saw the towers going up, and the lights would move further up, as the workers built. We would just watch in awe. It seemed like it went up and up and up, forever and ever.”

When she watched the same towers come crashing down, Watson felt a personal sense of loss. However, the events compel Watson — a professor in sociology — to look at the causal effects of such a tragedy.

“I don’t think America realized how vulnerable we are. We are very privileged people in terms of our security and our outlook on the world, “ Watson said. “I think this is a time when all of us can pull back and look at what is important and what isn’t.”

She issues a challenge to America to look at what the country can do differently, so that tragedy does not occur again.

“Not one of those people in the World Trade Center, the Pentagon or in one of those planes deserved to die that day,” Watson said. “But this tragedy is forcing us to appreciate what we have in common, pay less attention to what divides us, pull back from our consumer-dominated lives and make us pay more attention to what really matters and that is our relationships with each other.”

“Because in the end,” she said, “that’s all we have.”

Students watch the events of Sept. 11 unfold on the televisions inside The Depot on the HSU campus.

Thinking back, Watson remembers what she did shortly after she found out of the attacks. She called her daughter, who is now enrolled at the same college Watson attended more than 20 years ago.

“From across the harbor, I watched those towers go up,” she said. “From nearly the same viewpoint, my daughter watched them as they came crashing down.”

“He was so cool,” Christine Bensen fondly remembered of Alan Beaven, a close family friend. “Even though he was this incredibly well-respected environmental lawyer. His favorite outfit was this old flannel shirt, a puffy orange vest, some old jeans and flip-flops.”

Bensen smiled as she recalled the devoted family man, who planned to take a year off to travel to India with his family. He had even skipped his intended flight the day before to celebrate his wedding anniversary with his wife.

“They had so much planned out, so much to do,” Bensen recalled. “He was just going to the Bay Area to finish one more case.”

But the anticipated trip to India was not to be. Instead, on Tuesday morning, Beaven went to the New Jersey Airport in Newark, kissed his wife and 5-year-old daughter goodbye He then boarded Flight 93 with 38 other passengers.

Bensen woke up that Tuesday when a friend frantically urged her to turn on her television. She watched the images of planes crashing into buildings and towers crumbling down.

“I was in total disbelief,” Bensen said. “But for some reason I didn’t think it was real. I felt like I was watching some bad movie.”

That morning, she heard her boyfriend remark, “People are making a bigger deal out this than it really is.”

Not thinking twice of her boyfriend’s remark, Bensen went on to her kickboxing class. And it wasn’t until later, when a friend reminded her that she had some family members and friends in New York, that she began to worry.

While at work, Bensen’s boyfriend called informing her that her father had some news for her.

“I’m coming to pick you up,” her boyfriend told her, adding, “Christine, I was totally wrong for saying that this morning.”

Bensen’s eyes begin to well up with tears as she recalled the moment her father told her Beaven was on the plane that crashed in a rural field outside of Pittsburgh.

“It took a moment to register in my mind,” Bensen said, “I spent the whole day crying, praying and meditating. I had friends who were very supportive and comforting. But for the most part, I just needed to be by myself.”

The following Friday, Bensen attended the memorial service in the Quad and was touched at how many people were there to show their support. Taking the microphone, she thanked everyone for their kindness and sympathy. Bensen struggled through her words as she fought back her tears.

“A close family friend was on one of those planes,” she told the crowd. “It’s just nice to see all of you here.”

As she told the crowd of Beaven and her own personal loss, Bensen felt as though she was giving the crowd a closer, more personal connection to the tragedy.

“I wanted people to see me and recognize me as someone they probably knew from class or seen on campus and go, ‘Hey, she was affected by it?’ I think it brought it closer to home.”

Bensen’s grief turns into anger when she recalls insensitive remarks she has heard from people.

“Beyond all the politics, terrorism and whose to blame, I lost someone. I lost someone I loved.” Bensen’s lip begins to tremble as she added softly, “And I’m upset.”

In the weeks since the Sept. 11 attacks, the Counseling Center at HSU has been seeing a steady stream of students.

“We’re way ahead of last year in terms of seeing people,” said Ken Dutro, director of counseling at the center. “And last year was a record year.”

Many students have been coming in — trying to sort out their emotions of shock, disbelief, anxiety and stress stemming from the attacks.

According to a Pew Research Center poll, 71 percent of Americans have felt depressed in the week after the attacks. Dutro is not surprised with that figure.

“More people are affected by this than we think.”

He added, “But the important thing is that we continue to be open about this, talk with each other and not be discouraged with ourselves.”

Being open with each other and lending support to one another may not be an easy task when emotions run high and differing points of view clash. Dutro pointed out that even extreme opposite opinions can be very closely related.

In the tapestry of human emotion, full of different colors and tones, of people, young and old, Dutro recalls the bonds that link people in times of sadness.

“It’s OK to disagree,” Dutro said. “For it is not the disagreements that are the problem, but when the disagreements become right or wrong, all or nothing. Then we are neglecting the common thread of our feelings and that is the grief and hurt we all feel.”