I admit that I am confused. I do not know how to feel, how to act or what to do on this first anniversary of the Sept. 11 tragedy. But “tragedy” is such an understatement. The attacks were so much more than tragic. They were a premeditated and horrific evil committed against humanity.

Such an unprovoked evil is something I doubt many Americans have ever had to come to terms with in our nation’s history, and it is certainly a greater evil than anything I have seen in my brief life on this earth. When an event is so unprecedented, I suppose confusion is understandable.

How is one supposed to feel on this day? How is one to act? What is one to do?

There is no correct answer to these questions, but we must all attempt to answer them in our own minds, lest our confusion turn to complacency.

For me, the Sept. 11 anniversary is a day to remember the victims of the attack. It is a day to pray for their families and their loved ones, whose pain I cannot imagine. It is a day to celebrate the heroes who sacrificed their lives while trying to save the lives of others.

For you, this day may mean something else. Certainly this anniversary conjures different emotions in all of us. But I worry the number of people who can remove themselves from the reality of those events is growing.

Slowly but surely, many have been able to put the reality of Sept. 11 behind them. As they do, a few with agendas have subtly used the events to justify policy or to mobilize political action, on both the right and the left. Perhaps this is inevitable as we move through time, further and further from Ground Zero. But it is my sincere wish that on this anniversary we could put politics and opportunism aside, at least for this day.

Discourse is important, and debate makes our country strong. But perhaps on this one day we can all agree to disagree, reflect a little and start the discourse up again later.

I don’t think it is too much to ask of ourselves to honor the victims by taking a step back and recognizing the humanity and goodness that is in each other, at least for one day.

But can we expect humanity to be this civil and sensitive anymore?

The rhetoric from those in the international community who resent the United States has been getting louder since the weeks shortly after the attacks. As international sympathy slowly fades, the innocent humanity that was lost that day seems to have been forgotten, little by little. Perhaps the memories are forgotten, but perhaps they are simply repressed.

Often psychologists speak of how important it is to bring closure to a traumatic event in one’s life. But do we really want closure on this anniversary? I am not looking for closure.

It is as important today to remain vigilant as it was a year ago, and we cannot remain vigilant if we repress these horrifying memories. We may sleep better at night, but at what cost? We should not let such evil strike our country again, sleep or no sleep.

I worry about others forgetting, but I worry more that I will forget. Waking up a year ago today was probably the first time I ever truly appreciated the fragility of the lives with which we have been blessed. For a time, there seemed to be something more important than the vicious cycle of studying, drinking and Sports Center. I am afraid that only a year later I am already losing that appreciation.

It would probably not be overly difficult for many of us to get out of bed today, go to work or school and move on.

But perhaps we shouldn’t just move on, at least not today. It would be ridiculous to force feelings and emotion you don’t have on this anniversary, and I am sure that those for whom the horror was personal do not want, nor need, anyone’s self-imposed pity. But still, some empathy could not hurt.

I am convinced that for those of us who were not personally affected by Sept. 11, 2001, there is no right way to feel and no right thing to do today. But I would hope we at least all find the time today to give our questions some thought.

A.J. Hughes ([email protected]) is a software developer and a former UW student.