Last night, I watched the movie World Trade Center for the first time—fittingly, since today the 18-year anniversary of when 9/11 happened—and I was struck by several things. The bravery of the first responders, the fear of the families left behind, and, more than anything, the unity that everyone displayed in the wake of such devastation.

I remember that unity. I remember that quiet strength that, no, we would leave no one behind. Everyone was our neighbor. Everyone was our friend, our family. It was beautiful and heartbreaking at the same time. A little sliver of the purest light amid the darkest day.

And now, 18 years on, look at what we’ve become. 

We’re a nation of separates, but not one of equals. We’re a nation divided on all sides, spewing hate and anger towards anyone who will listen. We love no one but ourselves.

What has happened to us?

In his 9/11 speech, Fred Rogers (of Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood fame) stated: “No matter what our particular job, especially in our world today, we all are called to be Tikkun Olam, repairers of creation. Thank you for whatever you do, wherever you are, to bring joy and light and hope and faith and pardon and love to your neighbor and to yourself.”

My, how far we’ve fallen. A great deal further than those two towers did.

What would Fred Rogers say to us now, that we’re turning legitimate people away at the border and ripping children from their parents at what are essentially concentration camps? 

What would he think of us?

That we are past hope?

Beyond despair?

Beyond forgiveness?

Maybe he’d think those things for a moment, but Fred Rogers was such an exemplary human being that I don’t think he’d mean it. I think, above all else, he’d be saddened for us. The bad guys have won. They’ve sewn hate and disparity among us, they’ve divided us, made us quibble and squabble with each other when we should be standing strong, supporting each other. Lifting each other up.

And then he would give another amazing, rousing speech that would stand the test of time—and that we would likely ignore just as much, because we did not deserve a Fred Rogers. I’m glad that he’s not around today to see what we’ve devolved into.

But we need to rise up. We need to live up not only to his memory, but to the memories of all the fallen during the 9/11 travesty.

They deserve a better world for their memories to reside in.

I remember the day the towers fell. I was a freshman in college in northeast New Jersey, and I watched the Twin Towers fall from my dorm room window, across the horizon. I saw the smoke. I watched the news and heard the cries. It was horrifying.

What I remember more, however, is the unity we all felt in that moment. We had a shared pain, a shared fight against oppressors. Now, we’ve turned that strength on ourselves and our fellow neighbors, and it’s a whole new tragedy that we’re dealing with. Only this time, it’s not as upfront and in-our-face. It’s an insidious monster that’s cannibalizing us from the inside out.

On this 18th anniversary, I implore you one and all to remember one of our finest hours, a moment that transcends the tragedy surrounding it. 

We are better than what we have become. And we must remember that before it’s too late.

Post-script: I don’t mean for this post to erase the hardships that many Americans faced in the aftermath of these attacks, found predominantly in Muslim-American communities and those who followed the religion of Islam. They unfortunately and wrongfully became a scapegoat to these terrorist attacks, and it’s these very actions that became the first vitriolic seeds that we’re seeing flourish in our nation now. Attacking whole communities for the wrongs of a few. Brandishing an entire race/color/creed bad because of the work of a TERRORIST. We must step back from the scapegoating. We must stop pointing fingers like little children and realize we live in a grown-up, complex world.

Association should not equal damnation, for any of us.