Many Faces of Terror

In 1886, novelist Joseph Conrad wrote: “Few men realize that their life, the very essence of their character, capabilities and audacities are only the expression of their belief in the safety of their surroundings.”
Consider these numbers: 1 in 3 females will be sexually assaulted in their lifetime. Women experience about 4.8 million intimate partner-related physical assaults and rapes every year. Children who witness violence are more likely to suffer from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, and were at greater risk than their peers of having allergies, asthma, gastrointestinal problems, headaches and flu.
The commemoration of the attacks of 9/11 reverberated on the airwaves all weekend. Somber and solemn sitting in my living room watching television, I was grateful to be an American citizen proud of my country and the community we created post 9/11. It also reminded me of all the victims of family violence that I worked with for the first 15 years of my career, and survived myself. I couldn’t help but think of the women and children, day in and day out who live with terror.
I watched as firemen, police and emergency workers shared their stories on the front lines of the days and weeks following the attacks looking for survivors and then bodies. I listened while some of the first responders recounted their sleepless nights, restless days and struggles with finding inner peace long after they left Ground Zero. I went inside the Trade Center with the cameramen who were following the life of a probationary fireman at the time of the attacks and how incredibly hard it was for all of them to get back to a normal life after 9/11.
And I kept coming back to the child with the phone cord bruises around his neck and the countless faces of women with broken noses and teeth, arms, fingers and legs. I remembered the days and nights I would lie awake thinking about someone I had just met in the shelter, wondering if they would make it out for good from a relationship that was an everyday nightmare. I recalled the woman who couldn’t stand to hear the door bell ring and the child who couldn’t hear loud noises.
Terror is terror. A plane, a fist, a closet, a no way out. It is awful, horrible, catastrophic, sick and more. It makes us afraid, angry, sad, confused, and terrorized. It is violence; violence that makes our world shrink as we come face to face with the expression of our belief in the safety of our surroundings. If Conrad is right, no wonder women struggle to feel more than the world’s reflection of who they are would have them believe.
9/11 introduced terror to those of us who had not been intimately acquainted with it. In our new understanding perhaps can come compassion and commitment to help one another, to remember what being a neighbor means. The first flight I took after the tragedy the pilot spoke over the loudspeaker and asked us to introduce ourselves to each other. Maybe if we could do that everywhere, we might interrupt the terror that still hides in our homes.