Four years ago today, then-10-year-old Devan Allison glanced at the television and figured his mother was watching a bizarre movie depicting an attack on the United States.
It was the news.
“That’s when it hit me: This is real,” said Allison, now a 14-year-old freshman at Golden High School.
Patrice Sterling, a sixth-grader at the time, frantically called her parents working at Denver International Airport when newscasters said it could be a terrorist target. She couldn’t get through to them.
“I was so scared,” said the sophomore at Cherry Creek’s Smoky Hill High School in Aurora.
Jacob Rivera imagined his father, a pilot, was dead. He didn’t hear from him until the following day.
“I didn’t know where he was. I didn’t sleep at all that night,” said Rivera, now a Smoky Hill junior.
It was a tender age to learn your parents couldn’t always protect you. To realize the finality of death. To find out your country is vulnerable.
Golden and Smoky Hill high schools are thousands of miles from ground zero. But they are home to hundreds of children who, as fifth- and sixth-graders, were just beginning to comprehend the world around them on Sept. 11, 2001.
Interviews with dozens of young people at those schools show that for youth growing up far from the front lines of the war on terror, Sept. 11 is more starting point than turning point.
They have only vague recollections of breezing through airport security, of life before color-coded terrorist alerts and routine media coverage of suicide bombings and beheadings.
For some, like Patrice Sterling and Jacob Rivera of Aurora, their emotions ranged from churning panic in the hours after the attacks to gnawing fear months and even years later.
For others, like Tyler Kitch, it was a feeling of ambiguity and confusion. “The next day at school, we had to draw a picture how we felt,” Kitch said. “I didn’t know what to draw. My sheet was blank.”
But for nearly all, the terrorist acts tore through the idea that their parents will always be there to protect them.
“These kids were moving from a place where parents are omnipotent to the realization that parents can’t protect them from everything,” said Michael Rovaris, a clinical social worker at Pikes Peak Mental Health Center in Colorado Springs who specializes in childhood trauma.
Biggest impact is psychological
The war on terror hasn’t included a draft that takes fathers from the dinner table. There is no food or gas rationing, no call for women to work in wartime production plants.
The biggest impact on most children in Colorado has been psychological, Rovaris said.
“It’s not the same as it used to be. The only thing you had to worry about was getting in trouble at school,” said Ryan Dang of Aurora, who was 13 the day of the attacks. “My parents are postal workers. The anthrax really scared me. I remember seeing my mother and father wearing latex gloves and masks. There were police and sniffing dogs in the post office.”
His parents told him these were just precautions. It didn’t matter. It was a new frightening world.
Over the past four years, the language of terrorism – al-Qaeda, bioterror, suicide bomber – has become part of the vocabulary of youth.
“At first I couldn’t put all the pieces together,” said Andre Hart of Golden, who was 11 that day. “I finally figured out there could be terrorists in the United States with bombs strapped to them. It made me distrust people. I had dreams in which people I knew at school were terrorists.”
For Golden High freshman Chelsea Ramsey, the unspeakable now seems possible. “I go downtown and ride the light rail sometimes. It’s always in the back of my mind – ‘Could the person next to me with the backpack be a suicide bomber?”‘ she said.
Rovaris said it’s up to parents to stress the remote possibility of a local terrorist attack and to reassure children about their safety.
“I tell my children that it’s the job of terrorists to put fear in us and disrupt normal routines,” said Rovaris, who has three children ages 10 to 13. “It’s like teasing at school – they try to make you angry and upset and get a reaction out of you.”
Children’s patriotism surged
Despite the horrors of Sept. 11, children also witnessed acts of heroism. They saw a country rally together, and they were part of the rallying.
“Many kids will look back on their fifth- and sixth-grade experience and say, ‘I did something to help my country,”‘ Rovaris said.
Justin Midyet’s fifth-grade class at Ralston Elementary in Golden made a quilt of sponsored patches and gave the $1,000 in donations to a rescue-dog foundation and the quilt to the New York Fire Department.
“It felt like we were doing something to help. It felt good,” said Midyet, now a ninth-grader.
Other youngsters sold lemonade and root-beer floats, initiated jogathons and readathons, hosted penny drives and quarter drives, collecting money in juice cans and aquariums.
Sept. 11 now studied in class
The attacks have become a part of high school curriculum.
Students are quick to point out the chapter on Sept. 11 in their American history textbooks – with color pictures.
In one history class, Golden High’s Andre Hart was asked to compare the psyches of Japanese kamikaze pilots with those of suicide bombers.
MacChloe “Mac” Altea, a Smoky Hill freshman from the Philippines, remembers a writing assignment that asked: If you could go back in history and change something, what would it be?
“Half the kids said they would go back to 9/11 and change it back to the way it was,” she said.
The attacks nurtured a stronger sense of patriotism among kids, said 10th-grader Patrice Sterling.
“Now at sporting events when you say the Pledge of Allegiance and the national anthem, it has a whole new meaning,” she said.
“Even ‘I love you’ has a lot more meaning now,” said Sterling, evoking memories of passengers on doomed Flight 93 over Pennsylvania calling loved ones when they realized what was happening. “I can’t imagine making or getting that phone call.”
There have been other lessons from that day.
“9/11 made me want to learn about other parts of the world and how it relates to the U.S.,” said Andy Hanneman, 16, of Golden.
Ryan Dang said his neighbors are Pakistani and he eventually spoke with them about the attacks.
“There was a lot of talk about terrorists living among us in our neighborhoods,” Dang said. “It’s not right to stereotype, but in the back of your mind. … But when I talked to them in the days after 9/11, they were in shock, as horrified as the rest of us.”
For Chelsea Ramsey, the consequences of Sept. 11 are more tangible.
“My brother just joined the Army. They said he will be going to war. They made him make out a will. It scares me that the next time I see him could be the last.”
The day that changed the country in a heartbeat will continue to shape these youngsters into adulthood.
“I think we’ll live with terrorism throughout our lives,” Dang said. “And I think we’ll be explaining it to our kids.”
Staff writer Dave Curtin can be reached at 303-820-1276 or at dcurtin@denverpost.com.
Signs of reaction to disaster or trauma vary by age. Here are signs to watch for:
Young children:
Fear of being away from a parent.
Increased crying, screaming, trembling, and clinging to parents or caregivers.
Thumbsucking, bedwetting and fear of the dark.
Pre-adolescents:
Withdrawal from friends and family.
Nightmares and problems sleeping.
Ongoing feelings of anxiety.
Feelings of guilt.
Anger, irritability and outbursts.
Physical complaints such as stomachaches.
Adolescents:
Flashbacks and nightmares.
Avoidance of things that might remind them of the event.
Guilt.
Withdrawal and isolation.
Physical complaints.
Avoidance of school, dropping grades.
Tips for helping children and teens cope after a trauma:
Protect children and make them feel safe.
Reassure them that you love them and will care for them.
Encourage children to express their feelings, including their fears and concerns, and listen to them without passing judgment.
Let children know it’s OK to be upset.
Let children do something that makes them feel in control, such as choosing their own clothes or meals.
Gradually return to familiar routines, or, if that’s not possible, create new routines.
For older children, reassure them that they are safe, but don’t tell them a disaster can never happen again; they will know that isn’t true.
Limit television viewing so children don’t see images of the disaster over and over.
Encourage children to express feelings through drawings or play.
If a child’s responses (for example, nightmares and recurrent thoughts or fears) have been getting worse instead of better, consider seeking professional counseling.
Sources: National Institute of Mental Health, Mental Health Association of Colorado, National Child Traumatic Stress Network.
