Its difficult to say just how much our lives have changed since the events of September 11th or how long its going to take us to regain a sense of normalcy. It's clear we have to get use to much uncertainty from now on. We must now live our lives and go about our business  in an environment of fear and insecurity. To those  who live in violent neighborhoods or homes, coping with daily threats may not seem as unfamiliar, but for the rest of us it is. For the majority, being scared, confused and angry is not the normal state of being and so we look to our leadership for help. They respond by telling us to remain calm but at the same time, to be vigilant.

     The president says we're at war - and the news footage of bombs dropping bear that out - but it is we who appear to be on the front line. We trust our airport security and  postal service to protect us but can't help feeling like we're sticking our heads out of a foxhole every time we go to our mailbox. The thought that the individual responsible for the anthrax assault may be one of our own disturbs us all the more. The bombing of a government building in Oklahoma City by a deranged boy scout made us aware of the threat from within, but the dread of foreign fanaticism adds a new dimension. We've never seen this kind of war before. We use to think the only way a terrorist could harm us would be through a nuclear attack. That was before we witnessed the enormous destruction  that can be delivered with a box cutter, postage stamp, or rented truck.

     Our president says he was shocked to learn how many Middle Easterners hate America and suggests that it must be because they don't "understand our message". A broader point of view, however, reveals that this hate and this anger are the consequence of an unhealthy lifelong diet of suffering and abuse. Reason demands that we identify the cause and treat the disease in addition to medicating the symptoms.

     History reminds us that every society is capable of brutality. Ours is no exception. Certainly, there's sufficient historical evidence and present-day social statistics to suggest that any sincere effort to weed out terrorism must include a serious examination of our own proclivity to dominate. We may believe we're the good guys but the fact is much of the world thinks we're a bully. If we are to be true champions of human rights it's clear we will have to make some serious adjustments in our behavior. This is not to say we should accept any blame for our enemies’ inhumanity, only that if we persist in denying our own offenses, our credibility  and reputation in the world community will continue to suffer.

     The people responsible for the horrific acts of September 11th are the product of their environment as we are of ours, subject to the same laws of cause and effect. They believed they were doing God's work though in fact they were marking the depth of man's perversion. How does one arrive at such a level?  The president would have us believe that the enemy is just  a group of foreign evildoers, which like a cancer should be surgically removed. Calling such men "evildoers" draws a cartoon caricature of our attackers that impedes any attempt to clearly understand them and their motivation. These terrorists were neither obeying God nor Satan when they deliberately killed thousands of innocent people. They were simply obeying a condition common to us all: delusion. It's a predicament we all share. It arises from basic processes of human perception  and the activity is the same the world over.

    From early childhood, we are conditioned to form premature perceptions of the world based on  emotional reactions to limited information. Afflicted with these distorted perceptions, we then react to people and events with inappropriate responses, which often doom us to disappointment or confusion; even depression or desperation. From the earliest stages of our development we are taught how we should view others, and ourselves--and how to react to our surroundings. In the process, we acquire filters that modify our perceptions: exaggerating those that support our illusions and ignoring those that challenge them. In this way, we elaborately build for ourselves a strong, persuasive case for misbehavior, defeating our better conscience with an enormous file of corrupted data. Thus, we are all masters of self-deception. The inability to accept information without prejudice corrupts us all. It renders us socially dysfunctional and cripples our sense of humanity. It is the reason why good people do bad things, and smart people do stupid--and terrible--things.

     I was born and raised in New York City. From the rooftop of my Brooklyn tenement I  could see the skyline of Manhattan. I watched the World Trade Center Towers rise like great, giant Sequoias, higher and higher. Eventually, the Towers dwarfed the Empire State Building, which up until then marked the height of my imagination. Its glistening completion celebrated the start of a new kind of national confidence and potential, with a sense of unlimited possibilities. I loved that skyline, then, as I love America today. Being a native New Yorker and having driven a taxicab there for many years, I know its people well. I grieve for them  now and mourn the loss of their Towers.  The spirit that built the great Towers however, hasn't been destroyed. It survives in the imagination of those who dream of a greater world and a better life.

     My own dream came true when I got married a mere seventeen days after the tragedy. I'm happier now than I've ever been in my life, having acquired a sense of wholeness I've never felt before. I delight in the knowledge that I can be so joyful despite an ever-present underlying sadness.

      I believe we can all retrieve a sense of promise despite the present atmosphere of threat. Though the empty space left by the Towers will always remind us of what once was, the sky that now occupies that space can still be a focal point for our imagination. Confronting our delusions will enable us to rise above clouds of fear and insecurity, to a place where there are no limits to our vision, no ceiling to our imagination, and no dream too impossible to build. I learned that a long time ago on a rooftop in Brooklyn.             

A VIEW FROM A ROOFTOP

by Harry Becker, November 2001

published: La Clave, Northampton, MA

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