I was teaching second grade at Snowden, and another teacher taking her students to the cafeteria stopped by my classroom and called me to the door. “We’ve been attacked,” she said, “New York City has been attacked.” It took a moment to sink in, then I turned back around toward my children who were sitting quietly, happily unaware. I remember thinking that everything had suddenly changed, that we were not safe, that anything could happen / had happened. The rest of the day, whenever any of the teachers had a small break, we gathered to watch the news on TV, huddling together and holding on to each other. We were told not to discuss the attack with our students that day; administration thought it would be better for their parents to talk to them first. In the days that followed, my seven- and eight-year-old kids worried about where New York was. I had to keep showing them on the map. They wanted reassurance that it was far away.