Susan Bonicillo Opinions Editor

I will continually be surprised at the resiliency and strength of the human spirit.

Take this weekend, for example, which marked the third anniversary of the Sept. 11

terrorist attacks. On campus, commemorations of this event were kept to an individual prerogative, as the UA did not hold any official events for the first time since the attacks happened.

At first it seems disconcerting that such an event could pass by with little fanfare.

Some take this as a sign of disrespect to the victims, the failure of acknowledging this national tragedy. However, I'd like to see this rather as a sign of something wonderful emerging from such tragedy.

We have moved on.

Not to say that day is completely stricken from our memory; such a thing could never be erased by the passage of time. The lack of commemorations does not speak of a callousness and fickleness of memory and respect for the dead. Rather, we've come to a point in the grieving process where healing can begin. The pain and fear caused by Sept. 11 can never fully leave the collective consciousness. Gratefully, time has dulled the emotions, leaving us with the necessary resolve to survive despite the knowledge that catastrophe can hit home.

Yet as much as we try to heal from this event, it also behooves us to realize the other implications of this anniversary. Much like what Pearl Harbor and Vietnam did to our forebears, Sept. 11 does the same for us.

This is the event that defines our generation.

As a child, I always romanticized World War II. To me, that war didn't hold the same sort of significance it did for my parents and grandparents. It was a war that happened in a far-off land in a far-off time. It was the stuff that was relegated to passages in dusty tomes written by learned men draped in tweed. It was simply dates I had to memorize and people I had to know in order to pass the latest history test. Later on, it would become something more significant, yet the full impact of it would not hit until my generation experienced the same sort of violation into our domestic sphere.

We can hardly go a day without hearing some mention of Sept. 11. It spurs our foreign and domestic policies. We no longer feel the almost arrogant feeling that our safety is inherent because of our status as Americans. We are permanently changed as Sept. 11 made us realize that, despite our status as a superpower, despite the fact that two oceans separate us from a good portion of the world, despite the fact that we have the most advanced and extensive weapons systems on Earth, we can still be touched. We are vulnerable.

The freshness of our grief isn't as sharp now, giving us a better sense of rational thought into what particular direction we want our nation to follow. As much as this anniversary serves as time to look back into our past, it also forces to face the obstacles we face in the future.

So far, we are continuing waging our war on terror. We have lost more than 1,000 soldiers in this war, diverted billions of dollars from the federal budget into this fight and lost a few civil liberties in the process.

Yet, despite the various promises we are given by our elected officials, this war can never truly be won. It would be foolhardy for any government to ever ensure complete and total safety from the dangers and evils that the world has to offer. This sort of promise requires an omnipotence that no one can possess. So long as the United States reigns as the sole superpower in the world, threats to our nation will never truly end.

The ever-looming threat of terror will dictate our actions in the upcoming years and perhaps even longer. If we've learned anything from Sept. 11, it's that we have the strength and spirit to not be overwhelmed by the weight of grief nor shrink in fear of living in a world forever changed by terrorism. If anything, the past few years has shown us that we have the resiliency to move on, but where exactly are we going?

Susan Bonicillo is a junior majoring in English. She can be reached at letters@wildcat.arizona.edu.