Twenty-five years later, thanks for travelling companions
Many of us remember where we were twenty-five years ago on Sept. 11, 2001. Perhaps you remember turning on the news and seeing the footage of planes crashing into the World Trade Centre, and then the constant news updates as we wondered what this meant and what might come next. That was the reality for many of us on the ground. Twenty-five years ago, CCS Program staff member Noelle Bowles was in the air. We asked her to reflect on her experience.
Twenty-five years ago today, I was on a plane. It was September 11, 2001. I was working for the General Council Office as the Program Officer for Youth and Young Adult Ministries. A colleague and I had planned an educational trip for young adults to learn about issues related to immigration and refugees. We travelled to Kenya and Southern Sudan with an amazing group of young adults from across Canada. We met with staff in the United Nations High Commission for Refugees, we visited the Kakuma Refugee Camp in Kenya, and we met with internally displaced people in South Sudan.
After a full three weeks of learning, we got on a plane to head home. Because of a delay, our group had to be separated for the trans-Atlantic part of our journey. I went ahead of the group – routed to the US and then to Toronto. I was an hour away from the Eastern seaboard when the pilot said “This is your captain speaking. We have received reports of terrorist activities in New York City and Washington. American airspace has been closed.”
The next fifteen hours are a bit of a blur, but eventually, I was reunited with my group in Amsterdam. I suppose some might have considered the week to be a bonus vacation, but we could only focus on one thing – getting home. We rode quite the emotional rollercoaster as we dealt with the fact that there was nothing we could ‘do’ to get home. There was anxiety, sadness, helplessness, anger, agitation, and some hysterical laugher. We even tried to get on a boat. But we just had to wait.
The irony of fact that this happened as part of a trip designed to learn about displacement was not lost on me. The people we met in the Kakuma Camp and South Sudan waited for years – sometimes forever. Their safety was not guaranteed and they did not always have enough food or adequate shelter. We waited for one week in the Holiday Inn with everything we needed, but it consumed us and we just wanted to go home.
On this day every year, I say two prayers – thanks and please. That week, as with many hard things in life, would have felt impossible without travelling companions. So, I say thanks for all the people who have travelled with me through hard things in my life. However, I can never think of my experience that week without also thinking about the context of that trip: the people we met and what we learned about the ways in which power oppresses and displaces. So, I also say please – please help me DO SOMETHING. We could not do anything to get home more quickly, but I can do something to mitigate the impact of oppressive uses of power in the world. “Please, help me find and do that ‘something’.”
