Issue #1
September 2001
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Th.
Being a Second-Hand Victim
September, 2001
by Laura Gillenwater
I am a New Yorker. Never mind that I left New York in 1978 for college and have lived in Massachusetts ever since - more years than I ever lived in New York. I was born in New York, raised in Manhattan, and have many of the personality traits commonly associated with a New Yorker. I talk fast, I move fast, I'm a bit pushy, I'm lively and sophisticated, at home taking public transportation in any city I visit, and think black is my most flattering color to wear. Although I live in the Metro Boston area, when I say I'm going to "The City" I still mean New York.
So when the planes tore into the World Trade Center towers on Tuesday, I felt the attack personally. It wasn't like the Oklahoma City bombing - sure, I was upset when that happened and got a bit teary seeing the tragic effects on those people and their families. But still it was a remote incident, more like watching the sad Save the Children commercials. Tuesday's attack, however, was personal - first literally so, as I tried frantically to contact my four parents (all of whom still live in The City and one of whom was often down in the financial area on business) and later more emotionally so, as a kind of second-hand victim.
The second-hand victim feeling is difficult to explain and one that I even feel a bit guilty talking about, because I know that is ultimately trivial compared to the what the "real" victims have gone through, or are still going though. The last time I felt this way was about 17 years ago, when my best friend was raped. For a week or more after the attack, I went through a series of emotional waves - sadness, anger, frustration - and a general feeling of emotional vulnerability, exhaustion, and unreality. It left me feeling that I, too, had been victimized, though certainly not in any way comparable to what my friend had gone through.
I was very fortunate this Tuesday - none of my parents were in the vicinity, all were safe and, so far, not aware of any friends lost in the tragedy. So I guess I don't even qualify as a second-hand victim, and yet I have spent the past week going through those same kinds of feelings I experienced 17 years ago. At work I feel more affected by the events than my coworkers and, somehow, more entitled to have more intense feelings than they. For them, New York should be Oklahoma City, except, of course, that this whole situation is quite a bit different; if we end up at war (as I believe we most likely will), it is our country that will be at war, not just New York, Washington, and Pennsylvania. This really is about all of us.
I am not a religious person, but yesterday I went to a church service so I could cry with other people and pray for everyone affected by the tragedy. As an agnostic, I have no idea if praying will do any good, but I figured it couldn't hurt. And it was something that I could, at least, do. I long for something I can do - some way to channel these feelings of grief into something productive - to give myself some small sense of control. So if you can think of something that an expatriate New Yorker can do to help, let me know. Please.
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