It appears as though every time you turn on the TV or scroll through social media, bad news crops up. We’re living in a generation where children are taught to fear for their lives, instead of how to play hopscotch. We’re living in an era where you can’t safely go to school, work, a nightclub, a concert, a marathon, or even take a train. We’re living in fear. The idea should make anyone feel sick to their stomach.
The dictionary defines a terrorist as “a person who uses unlawful violence and intimidation, especially against civilians, in the pursuit of political aims.” Basically, a person who endangers the lives of hundreds, maybe thousands, of innocent people just to make a statement. Upon reflecting on recent terrorist attacks like the Ariana Grande concert bombing in Manchester, I realized that my first memory of a terrorist attack was when I was in kindergarten. The exact date? September 11th, 2001.
Everyone remembers exactly where they were when they found out about these attacks. Me? I was sitting in my kindergarten classroom, completely oblivious to the extremity of what just took place. All I remember was sitting in a classroom, eating my Dunkaroos while my kindergarten teacher looked frantic. Suddenly, teachers were coming in and out of the classroom exchanging hugs, but clearly transmitting fear and sadness. Tears trickled down some of their faces. I didn’t understand what was happening. All I knew was that I, too, was sad. As kindergarteners, we were all impressionable and innocent. And when you see your teachers- your mentors- completely devastated and heartbroken, you sort of have to feel that same way too.
I remember there being a tiny analog TV sitting in the topmost corner of the classroom, showing footage of burning buildings. I didn’t get it. I didn’t know. Nothing clicked in my head. I just assumed it was a fire that needed to be put out. All of my fellow peers thought the same thing too. But suddenly, one by one, students were being ripped from the classroom as their parents came to pick them up. And that’s the moment I started to panic. Why were there burning buildings on TV? Why were all of my teachers hysterical, clinging to each other and emitting auras of grief? Why were my friends going home, when the school day had just commenced? I was a little kindergartener, and I was freaking out.
It wasn’t until I got home that my sense of worry and anxiety slowly drifted away. My mom hugged me the moment she saw me. She told me she loved me. And that’s when I felt okay again.
Of course when I got older, I realized what this all meant. And I understood the gravity of the attacks. But one thing seemed to stay true. My mother’s embrace encompassed me in hope and love, and it comforted me.
And I wrote a song describing exactly what you just read.
I wanted a way to convey this story in an artistic way, so I wrote the song “Kindergarten.” And if you take anything away from this article, it’s that love is stronger than any act of evil, and terrorists are nothing compared to the strength of family and friends.
Here are the lyrics:
“Kindergarten” – Monica Bubello
I remember as if it was yesterday. It’s been a long, long time, but I still can picture her face.
There were tears steaming, her heart was breaking and I just couldn’t understand why.
Why was she shaking? My brain couldn’t figure it out at the time.
And then the lunch man came in to bring us milk. And I saw that his expression matched the same thing that she felt.
He flicked on the TV. And there was screaming, and I just couldn’t understand why.
There was a tower burning and smoke was filling up the skies.
And I was far too young to even get it.
And I was far too young to comprehend.
And I don’t get why this even happened.
But my first heartbreak was in kindergarten.
One by one, my classmates left the room. But school had just started, so I was so confused.
Why were they leaving? Didn’t they want to stay and learn?
But then I noticed that there was no sign of their return.
And I was far too young to even get it.
And I was far too young to comprehend.
And I don’t get why this even happened.
But my first heartbreak was in kindergarten.
When I finally got home, my mom scooped me in her arms
And she held me real close, with tears in her eyes
She said, “No matter what, I love you to the end
And keep your family close, and all your friends.”
And now I’m older, I’ve aged and now I’m wise.
And now I know why smoke filled those skies.
But we must remember those words my mom once said:
“Keep your family close, and all your friends.”
And now I’m not too young to even get it.
And now I’m not too young to comprehend.
And now I still don’t get why all this happens.
But my first heartbreak was in kindergarten.
(https://soundcloud.com/monicabubello/kindergarten-original)
