9/11/2001-9/11/2011

To be honest, until only a few moments ago, I had not intended to post an entry dealing with the anniversary of 9/11. I didn’t (don’t) feel I have anything particularly exceptional to say; many are weighing in with far more profound insights and examples than I have at the ready. Nor do I want to (or want to appear to) capitalize on this occasion for any purpose whatsoever.

But in the end, with the date just two days away as I write this (Friday, 9 September 2011, 4:00 p.m.), I can’t ignore it. That Tuesday morning I was sitting exactly where I am now, at my computer in my office. And as I look outside today, the weather is almost identical: bright, clear, and crisp. I saw reports from Internet news sources on my monitor and, to be honest, I did not really grasp what I was seeing–either in the immediate or the long-term sense. Like many, the facts were so far removed from any experience in my life that I was not able to process what was happening. It took me far too long to comprehend the gravity of the situation.

The days that followed were a blur of emotions and mental images. One of the most vivid memories for me was a collage of expressions of sympathy from around the world–from both friends and enemies of our country–for the losses we suffered. What an opportunity was squandered in not capitalizing on that intensity of feeling to unite the world. And, while it might appear that my saying so is self-serving in the context of the nature of my blog, many if not most of the truly significant, meaningful, and healing moments of those days were articulated through the arts. It is the capacity of the arts to “ritualize” a moment, to set that moment apart from those before and after it, investing it in experience and later in memory with what some might describe as sacred (even if not religious) meaning, that is one of the arts’ most vital functions. We would have survived far less well were the arts not able to lend context and solace to our shock and grief.

I know that from this distance much of the rest of the world’s population is perplexed that we in this country continue to feel 9/11 as such a major rift in the fabric of our national life. Our lack of experience with tragedy on an epic scale can make our response seem incongruous to the people of Rwanda, Somalia, Cambodia, Afghanistan, Iraq, Bosnia, Sudan or any other nation where truly widespread death born of malice is or has been horrifically “not rare.” Discovering that disconnect with the experience of other peoples has been a significant revelation for me.

I will point anyone actually reading this to others for the many examples of arts-based responses to this anniversary. I particularly like my buddy Pam Korza’s 9/11 and Beyond post on ARTSblog and Rebecca Gross’s Remembering 9/11 on Art Works.

In those relatively rare moments when I am comfortable being completely candid with colleagues in the arts, I sometimes admit that my path to an arts career did not move first through a passion for any of the arts for their own sake. It originated in my awareness of the capacity of the arts to positively transform lives–individually and collectively. That is what always motivated me. It is why I am so adamant about the need for the arts to engage with their communities. And it is at moments like this that I can most easily reconnect with the depth of that passion. I grieve over the occasion that brings this to mind, but I am moved by the opportunity to mine the true source of the passion that motivates me professionally.

Engage!

Doug