It’s been a rough few weeks. We’ve got pandemonium in Washington, DACA was repealed, massive fires in the west, Hurricane Harvey and Hurricane Irma; I ALMOST forgot that today is September 11. But I didn’t forget. Because I never will.

I was reading You’ll Grow Out of It over the weekend, and the author was talking about how she knew her relationship was the real deal: they “talked about where they were on 9/11 (the deepest conversation you can have with another person).” And it’s true. For everyone in our generation, it was a defining moment. It’s like how my parents’ generation always know where they were when JFK was shot.

I don’t want to make this a long post, but I felt like I couldn’t let this day go by without paying homage to what it is and acknowledging this day, my first September 11 since I started LongLegsBigCity.

I was in my freshman year econ class when the first plane hit. I didn’t believe it when my friend said what happened. I remember laughing and hitting her on the shoulder, telling her to stop f*cking with me. I was in English when the second plane hit the other tower. This time the TV was on in the classroom so I couldn’t deny it. I will never forget how I felt that day. Stunned is probably the best word. I grew up in New Jersey until I was 10, but then I moved to Florida. I had so many friends and family in the northeast, and I had walked by the World Trade Center many times. But at the same time, I was in Florida, so far away. It didn’t seem real. The one thing I distinctly remember was watching the news all day. It had been a half day of school, so starting at 1 pm, I was glued to the news. I had so much homework to do. School was in full swing because it started mid-August in Florida, and I was in the Pre-IB program, which meant basically that I did homework or was in class all but 5 hours of every day, when I took a short nap. But I couldn’t bring myself to do any work. I remember seeing people jumping from buildings on the news, on repeat, over and over again. And I thought to myself, “these teachers can’t possibly expect me to do my homework, can they??”

I have now lived in New York for 8 September 11’s and it does not get any easier. The mood is somber. The people are quieter. I haven’t heard a single mariachi band on the subway yet today. People are on edge. My friend told me that there was an unattended baby bag in the elevator of Deutsche Bank this morning and there were police all over it in under a minute. Even with the Freedom Tower standing proudly above all other buildings in the city, something is missing. Every time I watch Sex and the City (more often than I should admit to), the opening credits show the twin towers and it reminds me of what is missing.

It has been 16 years since that day. This year marks the year that I’ve officially been alive longer without the twin towers standing than I was alive before they went down. Seems crazy. Seems like yesterday.

But there are two good things about this day: It reminds me that we have risen above and we are still here, living and thriving in the best city in the USA. And it is also a day of unity. It reminds me that there was a time that we stood together, before all of the current craziness in the world. There was a time when people talked to each other on the subway, not just out of fear, but out of solidarity.

Today, try to be nice to someone. Or to one more person than you would on any other day. Give someone (correct) directions on the subway, even if it means taking out your earbuds. Swipe someone into the train with your unlimited metrocard. Smile at a homeless person. Give someone a 25 cent banana from a street fruit seller. And of course, never forget.