ABSTRACT
During my second year of teaching in a public, suburban elementary school, as I entered the teachers’ lounge one day, I noticed the din of a television set turned to a news report. As my teaching partners entered the room, we watched over and over again the reports reeling on the news station. Two, three, four airplanes were hijacked. We were in shock, but it was difficult to imagine at that moment what it would feel like later as the pictures became more graphic, more human, and less concrete and steel. The next spring, we again stared at this television in the small lunchroom and watched as one, two, three, four, and more bombs were dropped on Iraq’s monuments and buildings. Again, it was unclear from these images of light bombs against dark sky, but there was a human element to this destruction. The words “shock and awe” describe not only a military tactic, but also the emotions I felt as a witness.
