What We Remember, What They Inherited

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A split-panel composite image contrasting the analog past with the digital present. On the left, in warm, faded tones, a hand holds a vintage boarding pass and cassette tapes against a retro airport departure board listing London, Paris, and New York. On the right, in cool, sharp tones, another hand holds a modern smartphone displaying a live social media news feed, set against a blurred, high-security airport terminal with metal detectors and surveillance cameras. The composition symbolizes the generational shift and loss of innocence in travel since 9/11.

A disclaimer: I had zero intention of writing about 9/11 today. I certainly had no inclination to post three times in a single day. I didn’t want to reflect on it. I don’t want to remember it. I’m old enough to have experienced it, and I remember everything from that day.

I have to say that I’m very lucky—I don’t have any friends, family members, or even acquaintances who perished on that day. So I’m never going to pass judgment on people who were directly related or affiliated with victims of the attacks.

However, I do think there’s this almost masochistic tendency in our society. It’s one thing to want to commemorate an event; it’s one thing to reflect and remember a horrific day. But for many Americans, there’s almost a compulsion where we want to put ourselves back into that exact level of trauma we experienced 25 years ago. I don’t need to watch reruns of the news coverage on CNN or MSNBC.

I’ve been thinking a lot about it today, particularly as a high school teacher. It happened 25 years ago. My high school students have no recollection of that event. As far as they’re concerned, it’s a couple of paragraphs in a history book. Kid 1 is 19. Kid 2 is 11. Neither of them has any memory of that day.

But here’s the kicker: Gen Z and Gen Alpha have no memory of that day, but they are most certainly living in the post-9/11 world it created. And if you ask a lot of kids today, the world pretty much sucks.

And they’re not wrong, either.

Of course, part of that is just standard teen angst, but I see the collective exhaustion on their faces every single day, and it goes deeper than that. We are living inside a 24-hour news cycle and a digital fishbowl of social media. People are on absolute information overload. Humans just aren’t geared to withstand this level of scrutiny, negativity, body shaming, and distorted perception of reality.

I know social media isn’t strictly tethered to 9/11, but the era it spawned is one where every bad piece of news is piped directly into our brains on an endless loop. Now, my generation isn’t entirely immune to it either, but because I remember a time before social media, I know I could theoretically walk away from it if I really wanted to. For kids today, it’s just the air they breathe. They are completely inundated by it, and it’s exhausting. It isn’t normal.

I remember what things were like before all of this paranoia set in. If you want a clear, obvious difference between then and now, look at the airport. We all grew up seeing movies and TV shows of people saying cheerful goodbyes right at the departure gates, or romantic partners sweeping each other off their feet in some grand gesture at baggage claim. You can’t even do that anymore.

It’s like that meme about Home Alone where people joke that the most unrealistic part of the movie isn’t the burglars, but the fact that Kevin bought a week’s worth of groceries for 19 dollars. To kids today, the idea that a casual friend could walk you right up to the gate without going through TSA security feels just as fictional.

I wrote recently about how my boys, and a lot of kids of their generation, are yearning to experience life in an analog world. We see that most prominently in the fact that kids are buying physical media again—kids are buying records, and Kid 2 has become an avid CD collector. I think in some way, they’re searching for a different time, a simpler time. A time they don’t even know. I’m still astounded by the intense nostalgia towards 80s and 90s pop culture, but I guess I get it.

I too wish we could go back.


Rebuilding a life takes grit, consistency, and a lot of ‘Option C’ thinking. Having crossed the 1,000-day milestone, I’m now charting the territory beyond. The mission remains the same: No glitz. Just the work. New to the blog? Start your journey here to see the blueprint and the ‘Tricorder’ perspective behind the rebuild.

Today’s post is inspired by the WordPress Daily Prompt. While I’ve taken the topic in my own direction for the Road beyond 1,000 Days, you can find more responses to today’s prompt HERE.

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3 responses to “What We Remember, What They Inherited”

  1. ~D~ Avatar
    ~D~

    I agree with so much of what you have said, especially about the information overload. The constant bombardment isn’t natural and, in my opinion, just isn’t healthy for any of us. My grandson is seventeen. He is not very keen on AI. He also has a record player and listens to old albums. His generation is definitely searching for something they never had but somehow know has been lost.

    1. rebuilding rob Avatar

      My sister was telling me about a book called “the anxious generation” that’s all about the psychological effects of social media on young people.

      1. ~D~ Avatar
        ~D~

        I’ll have to check that out. Thanks for letting me know.

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