This poem was published on the anniversary of 9/11 four years ago on my old personal blog, The Yellow Brick Road. I revisit and reflect.
In my teen years, I was always a reserved and quiet girl at Armstrong Senior High School, a predominately White school in Plymouth. The town would be rated the best place to live in Minnesota by Money magazine in 2008.
“One more year and I’ll graduate!”, I thought to myself. I was in pottery class, in the middle of sanding my coffee mug I made. It was meant for dad. We were told to watch the TV screen. As Tom Brokaw’s voice came on, I turned away. The mug fell out of my hands. It broke into exactly three pieces.