Leonard Pitts, Jr. - Editorial

The Miami Herald - Wednesday, September 12, 2001

WE'LL GO FORWARD FROM THIS MOMENT

It's my job to have something to say

They pay me to provide words that help make sense of
that which troubles the American soul. But in this
moment of airless shock when hot tears sting
disbelieving eyes, the only thing I can find to say,
the only words that seem to fit, must be addressed to
the unknown author of this suffering.

You monster. You beast. You unspeakable bastard.

What lesson did you hope to teach us by your coward's
attack on our World Trade Center, our Pentagon, us?
What was it you hoped we would learn? Whatever it was,
please know that you failed. Did you want us to respect 
your cause? You just damned your cause. Did you want to 
make us fear? You just steeled our resolve. Did you 
want to tear us apart? You just brought us together.

Let me tell you about my people. We are a vast and
quarrelsome family, a family rent by racial, social,
political and class division, but a family nonetheless.
We're frivolous, yes, capable of expending tremendous
emotional energy on pop cultural minutiae -- a singer's
revealing dress, a ball team's misfortune, a cartoon
mouse. We're wealthy, too, spoiled by the ready
availability of trinkets and material goods, and maybe
because of that, we walk through life with a certain
sense of blithe entitlement. We are fundamentally
decent, though -- peace-loving and compassionate. We
struggle to know the right thing and to do it. And we
are, the overwhelming majority of us, people of faith,
believers in a just and loving God.

Some people -- you, perhaps -- think that any or all of
this makes us weak.

You're mistaken. We are not weak. Indeed, we are strong
in ways that cannot be measured by arsenals.

IN PAIN

Yes, we're in pain now. We are in mourning and we are
in shock. We're still grappling with the unreality of
the awful thing you did, still working to make
ourselves understand that this isn't a special effect
from some Hollywood blockbuster, isn't the plot
development from a Tom Clancy novel. Both in terms of
the awful scope of their ambition and the probable
final death toll, your attacks are likely to go down as
the worst acts of terrorism in the history of the
United States and, probably, the history of the world.
You've bloodied us as we have never been bloodied
before.

But there's a gulf of difference between making us
bloody and making us fall. This is the lesson Japan was
taught to its bitter sorrow the last time anyone hit us
this hard, the last time anyone brought us such abrupt
and monumental pain. When roused, we are righteous in
our outrage, terrible in our force. When provoked by
this level of barbarism, we will bear any suffering,
pay any cost, go to any length, in the pursuit of
justice. I tell you this without fear of contradiction.
I know my people, as you, I think, do not. What I know 
reassures me. It also causes me to tremble with dread
of the future.

In the days to come, there will be recrimination and
accusation, fingers pointing to determine whose failure
allowed this to happen and what can be done to prevent
it from happening again. There will be heightened 
security, misguided talk of revoking basic freedoms. 
We'll go forward from this moment sobered, chastened, 
sad. But determined, too. Unimaginably determined.

THE STEEL IN US

You see, the steel in us is not always readily
apparent. That aspect of our character is seldom
understood by people who don't know us well. On this
day, the family's bickering is put on hold. As
Americans we will weep, as Americans we will mourn, and
as Americans, we will rise in defense of all that we
cherish.

So I ask again: What was it you hoped to teach us? It
occurs to me that maybe you just wanted us to know the
depths of your hatred. If that's the case, consider the
message received. And take this message in exchange:
You don't know my people. You don't know what we're
capable of. You don't know what you just started.

But you're about to learn.

Link to this Miami Herald Editorial