Sunday was the 10th anniversary of September 11th, and I still remember sitting in my 8th grade composition class in what we called the “dungeon” room in the locker pit. We were presenting our writing portfolios and I think I was doing a report on St. Vincent and the Grenadines. Someone from the office ran to the door and told us to turn on the television quickly. The next thing I remember was a boy in my class yelling “boom” as a plane crashed into the second building of the World Trade Center. This boy was 13 years old, what was he supposed to know about what this would mean for our country and our stance in the world? Over the next couple of days I remember being worried about the significance of the event. Everything seems to be exaggerated and rumor spreads like fire in a middle school, so I remember overhearing talks of wars and a draft. I had nightmares that my brother or dad would be headed off to war. The following New Years my family visited New York City as it was still trying to cope with the shock three months later. An eerie feeling surrounded Ground Zero as the flowers placed after the tragedy started to droop. However, everywhere you looked American flags adorned the fence that separated the outside world, us, from the rubble.
Thirteen years old is an influential time, you tend to observe and soak up pretty much everything. While some tended to take the victim stance which is understandable, I just wanted to understand why someone would do something so horrible. As a 13 year old, I can promise you that I was not able to articulate US foreign policy. But, I do think this event is what began to shape my perception of my country in relation to the rest of the world that wasn’t always the most forgiving.
Looking over the last four months here in Nicaragua, I have developed a stronger sense of identity in and for the States. I guess you could call this patriotism. For instance, I have really learned to appreciate the diversity of our people and amount of access to other cultures. I think we forget how unique that makes us sometimes. Nicaraguans love to talk about food. They talk very endearingly about the rice and beans that they eat three times a day... but I love that I can’t easily answer what food is most typical to the US. We have choices and access that I will never be able to justly explain in this culture.
While I might have thought of the United States at one time as the buff big brother, I now believe that we actually do have a lot to offer communities in the developing world as well as a responsibility to do so. Right before leaving for Nicaragua, I visited a physician that had returned from Iraq as a doctor on the front lines with the Marine Corps. I remember her emphasizing to me, “Serving your country really is like nothing else. You’ll see.” Standing with my hand on my heart and singing the national anthem during our swearing in ceremony to become volunteers, I genuinely felt proud to be a part of the Peace Corps and a representative of the United States. Months earlier when we were invited to the Peace Corps there was an letter included in our packets from President Obama in which he said, “serving abroad will allow you to be a unique ambassador of the American Spirit, reinforce our ties with other countries, and recognize our current destiny.” I really do think the initiatives of the Peace Corps embody the best things about us as Americans, and I have come to believe that by creating a sense of understanding through cross-cultural exchange we can hopefully help to restore the image of the United States around the world.
