The sun shown brilliantly September eighth as my family and I made our way to the capitol grounds. My senior year had just started the week before and the summer heat mingled with the autumn breeze. We were off to the National Book Festival, a literary party put on by first lady Laura Bush. Upon arrival we found that tents had been set up throughout the grounds. Inside each tent, an author of a certain genre spoke every half-hour. For me, it was like star spotting at the Academy Awards, and I’d learn something too! I was fortunate enough to hear some of my literary heroes read from their works: Gary Soto, Natalie Babbit, Richard Peck, Walter Dean Myers, Doris Kearns Goodwin and Billy Collins. When we went to get refreshments, Laura Bush stood behind my mother in line and asked a stunned concession worker for change. She wandered through the crowd and lunched with a group of women in well-tailored suits resembling her own. None of us, Mrs. Bush included, seemed too worried about anything. 

The colorful poster for the National Book Festival has hung above my bed since that Saturday early this fall. For the first three days, it symbolized exactly what it should have, a happy-go-lucky day at the end of the summer when I got to shake hands with some of my favorite authors. After the following Tuesday, though, it was transformed into a symbol for lost personal and national innocence. The Book Festival was the last time I had truly carefree fun before September eleventh. This is not to say I haven’t had as much fun since, but the contrast between September eighth and September eleventh still lingers.

As I write this, Attorney General John Ashcroft has announced that on May eighth a U.S. citizen with connections to Al Qaeda was arrested for plotting to unleash a "dirty bomb" laced with radioactive material on the D.C. metro area. Worrisome as this might be, I find once again that I can only move forward. I don’t want the War on Terrorism to steal my anticipation for graduation on Thursday and the upcoming summer.

No, this terrorist’s detainment does not quell my excitement one bit. In fact, with each new warning comes a renewed sense of solidarity. Over the past nine months since September eleventh I’ve grown to appreciate the city of Washington and the people around me more. I’m sure this would have happened during my senior year anyway, but maybe September eleventh speeded up the process. As I head away on my own, I find myself not wanting to leave the places and people I care so much for. As a freshman, already anticipating leaving high school for college, I would have never foreseen these feelings.

Hopefully, the memories associated with September eleventh will continue to create unexpected positive emotions within us on both personal and global levels. Not only are people more patriotic but they are also thinking on a wider scope. I read recently that applications for the Teach for America program, in which college graduates spend two years teaching in poor districts, have increased from 4,000 to 15,000 in the past year. The threat of terrorism and the subsequent desire to change the world will make a big difference in the lives of some very disadvantaged kids.

As we move forward, I hope that this newfound zest for service and change will stay with us. I hope that we continue to fight for social justice. I hope we remember to appreciate each other as we should. Hopefully next year, in the face of continued threat, Laura Bush has the courage to throw a second annual literary bash as fall blends with summer.