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Shared experience
September 10, 2001, was like every other day in high school. For three full years now, high school has not been one for significant change. Cliques have always been a predominant part of everyone’s life. Sometimes it seemed as though the five minutes between classes could
have been considered a small-scale war. It has always been
like this, and no one expected it to change. But the next day changed everything.
The morning of Sept. 11, 2001 was just like the morning before that. Everyone was into his or her morning routine. First period came and went without a significant change from the ordinary. A few students were talking about a plane, but no one was too interested in what they had to say. After all, they were not in their clique, did not wear those clothes or were not friends with that person. High school stayed innocent and pure through first period.
The beginning of second period was a whirlwind of rumors, facts and news stories. As I was walking into my English class, I had not yet heard the news of the attacks. I casually walked to my seat and saw some other students doing the same. Some students were sitting with looks of sheer terror or confusion on their faces. I asked one of my friends what was going on. Something just did not feel right. I was not friends with everyone in my English class, but I could tell that whatever was wrong with eight people on the other side of the room probably
would effect me also.
Just as the question came out of my mouth, my teacher turned on the television, and at that moment, high school no longer existed. What was important before, what we stressed about every single day, no longer mattered. It was all petty now as compared to what was going on in our country. Not one person in the entire room was thinking about what the person next to them was wearing or what they were going to do this weekend.
Everyone sat transfixed by the images on the screen. At this point in the day, the middle of second period, nearly every single student in the high school became a little more aware that the person who sat next to them in second period was not just like every other person they had ever crossed paths with. I, for one, realized that those people in my English class, whom I had nothing to do with on a regular basis, were my crying shoulders, and I was theirs. For the first time in many of our lives, we saw people for who they were, not who their friends were.
The history that unfolded in those images that are forever branded into our minds broke down the walls of high school cliques. The five-minute war between classes came to an abrupt end. Even if for just two weeks, cliques did not matter. We never thought that one day, a few minutes in time, could change the way we looked at each other. Tragedy showed us that no matter how different we are, we are all the same at times.
Sarah Gasparetti, 18, is a senior at Phillipsburg High School in Phillipsburg, N.J. Article provided by 
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