September 11, 2001, Twenty Years Later: A Reflection From a New Yorker

The Tribute in Light in Lower Manhattan

Last weekend, we passed the 20th anniversary of the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001. As a native New Yorker who was in New York on that day, I find it hard to believe that twenty years have already passed since then.

I talk about that day from a variety of different perspectives. I talk about that day from the perspective of someone who suddenly lost two friends, as two of the firefighters I used to talk with as a little child died on 9/11. I talk about that day from the perspective of a New Yorker, since I was a resident of Queens when the attacks happened (and even saw some of the smoke on my street). I talk about that day from the perspective of a seven-year-old, as there are certain things I remember vividly and certain things I don’t remember at all because I was so young when it all happened.

But in this blog post, I want to write from the perspective of someone who lives in a neighborhood and a city that became a ground zero for anti-Muslim and anti-Sikh violence ever since the attacks, even if I didn’t realize it for years.

I want to write from that perspective because I want people, including people who don’t think of Islam favorably, to realize just how destructive these anti-Islamic sentiments (and by extension anti-Sikh sentiments, as Sikhs are often mistaken for people practicing Islam) could be.

It is the sort of sentiment which led to someone trying to throw a Molotov cocktail into a mosque not long after 9/11.[1] It is the sort of sentiment which led to Muslims in my area being spat upon and harassed by passers-by, only to get unsympathetic responses from the very people supposed to protect their public safety (as well as others’ safety): the police.[2] It is the sort of sentiment that led my own mom to receiving dirty looks and muttered comments once when she wore her winter scarf in a way that some mistook as her being Muslim. And it is the sort of sentiment that became so pervasive in America that President George W. Bush felt the need to denounce anti-Muslim harassment happening in the days after 9/11.[3]

Sikhs have become victims of this anti-Islam sentiment, often because many Sikhs (and particularly Sikh men) wear turbans, and because of the wearing of turbans Sikhs are often mistaken for Muslims. As a result, Sikhs have also been victims of anti-Islamic sentiment even though they don’t practice Islam. As a result, Sikhs in my neighborhood were beaten up over and over again in the months and years after 9/11. One noted story of a Sikh beating in my neighborhood happened while he was heading back from a Sikh temple where he prayed for 9/11 victims.[4]

The hatred directed at Muslims and Sikhs was so bad that people from those two religious groups honestly feared going out after 9/11, and at times still have to be cautious when they are out. It got so bad that some of the Sikhs in my neighborhood, after 9/11, felt they needed to wear buttons saying “I am a Sikh American” in order to try and “prove” to a skeptical audience that they were every bit as deserving of being out and about as anyone else. It was so bad that a kid who took karate with me—a kid from a Muslim family—had to drop out of karate classes and minimize the amount of time they spent out in public for months after 9/11 because the family of the kid was that scared of going out in public.

Do I mourn for all those lost on 9/11? Absolutely. I mourn for all who lost their lives on that day, including the two firefighter friends of seven-year-old me. But I also mourn because of the anti-Sikh and anti-Muslim sentiment that has been directed at so many innocent people since then, and still carries on to this day. And I believe others should mourn for that, too.





On Remembrance of the Holocaust

Today is International Holocaust Remembrance Day. Today is also the 75th anniversary of the closing of the Auschwitz concentration camp.

And here’s the thing—so much has been forgotten about the Holocaust that what I said in my previous paragraph means little or nothing to a large percentage of people in this world.

The statistics are staggering. About a third of Europeans—the people who live on the continent where the Holocaust actually happened—know little or nothing about the Holocaust.[1] 41 percent of Americans don’t even know what Auschwitz is,[2] and two thirds of people in my age bracket (18-34) don’t know what Auschwitz is, either.[3]

Statistics aside, anti-Semitism seems to be on the rise, including in the United States. It’s a reality I’m painfully aware of in New York City, a city with a large Jewish population. That reality hit close to home for me, as one of the attacks that made the news in New York City recently happened just two blocks from where I work.

Given the grim picture I’ve outlined, I’m going to attempt to do three things here: talk about what the Holocaust is, talk about why we should be terrified of the thought of people not remembering the Holocaust, and make some suggestions about how the United States and the world can do to remember the Holocaust better.

So, for readers who don’t know, the Holocaust was when the Nazi regime of Adolf Hitler, the leader of Germany from 1933 to 1945, wanted to “purify” Germany[4] of anyone considered inferior. Jews were particularly hard hit, as 6 million of them were killed in what were called concentration camps, including 1 million at Auschwitz. Other groups suffered high death tolls—that includes 7 million Soviets (including 1.3 million Soviet Jews), about 3 million Soviet prisoners of war, around 1.8 million Poles, 312,000 Serbs, up to 250,000 people with disabilities, up to 250,000 gypsies, at least 70,000 repeat criminal offenders, and an unknown number of gay men.[5] In total, Hitler’s efforts to “purify” resulted in the deaths of 15 to 20 million people—the population of New York City, Los Angeles andChicago (the three biggest cities in America) combined at the lower end of the death toll estimate.

It’s scary to think that such a heinous act of mass murder is forgotten by so many. By forgetting the Holocaust, we are forgetting the immense danger in labeling any group of human beings as inferior to other human beings just because of their religion, their ethnicity, their sexual orientation, or some other characteristic that does no harm to others. After all, by labeling any human being as inferior to any other human being for such traits, we are already halfway there to the mindset that the Nazis had—the Nazis also believed that some humans were inferior to others, but took it a step further and said that because of this inferiority, those “inferior” people must be exterminated. By failing to remember the Holocaust, we are failing to recognize the mindset that led to the Holocaust, and the mindset that has, quite frankly, led to chants such as “Jews will not replace us” from the rising forces of anti-Semitism in parts of the world.[6]

But how can we remember the Holocaust better, and avoid the consequences of forgetting about it? I probably don’t have every possible solution, but I will mention a few:

  1. Cities, states, and nations should make Holocaust education mandatory in curricula. To my surprise, I found, while doing research for this article, that only a handful of states in the U.S. do so.[7]
  2. We should all should explore other avenues for continuing Holocaust education beyond the classroom. I know that sounds vague, but the possibilities vary so widely, ranging from visiting a Holocaust museum to reading and listening about the experiences of those who lived through the Holocaust, that I wanted to leave this open-ended.
  3. All forms of social media must have a zero-tolerance policy on Holocaust denial, anti-Semitism, neo-Nazism, and white nationalism. Unless something changes between when I’m making my last edits on this piece (Sunday, January 26th, 2020) and when this piece gets published, Facebook still allows for Holocaust denial on its platform.[8] Shame on Facebook.

Yes, it is extremely terrifying that so many people don’t know what the Holocaust is or what Auschwitz is. Terrifying as that may be, I hope that this post is a call to action for us to educate ourselves and others about what happened in this dark time in history, so that we do not let something like the Holocaust ever happen again.




[4] This does not just include modern-day Germany; it also includes land that the Nazis took control of, which at its height spanned large portions of Europe.


[6] “Jews will not replace us” was the chant from extremist neo-Nazi and white supremacist groups in Charlottesville, Virginia back in 2017, when anti-Semitic violence engulfed the city:


[8] While this is an opinion piece, it also confirms (as of January 26, 2020) still allows Holocaust denial.

An image of Auschwitz concentration camp.

Addressing the Pittsburgh Synagogue Shooting

Tree of Life Synagogue Image
The Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. This was the site of a mass shooting on October 27, 2018. By CTO HENRY [CC BY-SA 4.0 (, from Wikimedia Commons.
This past week has been filled with hate, so much so that I have changed blog topics three or four times in the past six days just to reflect all the bad news (President Trump’s rhetoric on “caravans” coming to the United States, the packages sent to prominent Democrats, and now the synagogue shooting in Pittsburgh). Honestly, all of the horrid news of recent days left me wanting to write everything and write nothing, all at the same time.

But here I am, the night before I usually publish my Tuesday blog posts, writing on the most recent piece of bad news: the shooting at the Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.

I honestly can’t put into words how awful this tragedy was. A group of people worshiping peacefully (just as I worship peacefully in my own religion on a weekly basis) were put into a state of fear, injury, or death (depending on the individual) from an anti-Semitic individual.

Speaking of anti-Semitism, I think that we need to use this time after the shooting to reflect on anti-Semitism.

Namely, it is high time that those of us who have our heads in the sand about the presence of anti-Semitism in the United States take our heads out of the sand.[1]

Anti-Semitism is quite visible and has been given way too much legitimacy. Those who doubt me can look at the record number of white nationalist candidates running for office this year, including candidates who deny the Holocaust (and at least one candidate who, horrifyingly, was at least at one point a member of the American Nazi Party).[2] Those who doubt me can look at the fact that anti-Semitism was rising sharply in the United States, even before the Pittsburgh shooting.[3] And finally, those who doubt me can look at the violence involving neo-Nazis in Charlottesville, Virginia last year and see how the President of the United States said that there were “good people” on the side of neo-Nazis.[4] Anti-Semitism was around before 2017 and 2018, but it has certainly not gone away, and indications are that it has grown. We cannot ignore this anti-Semitism in the United States, and if we ignore it, then it will be to the peril of Jews across this country.

This does not mean that I have a solution that ends all anti-Semitism, and this does not mean that I expect my readers to have a solution to end anti-Semitism (though if anyone does have a roadmap for totally ending anti-Semitism nation-wide and worldwide, God Bless and Godspeed). However, we cannot even begin to think about solving a problem if we are blind to the problem in the first place. And right now, I fear that too many of us are blind to the fact that the anti-Semitism shown in the recent Synagogue shooting is not an isolated incident. It is part of a pattern of widespread anti-Semitism that is only growing in the United States.

Note: This post was written the night before it was published, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes that I made.

[1] I am not mincing words this week.