This past weekend we collectively marked the ninth anniversary of the September 11, 2001 terrorist strikes. That day inevitably stirs a wide range of emotions, fears and anguish in any thinking, feeling human being who was over a certain age that day. I was here in Baltimore, returning from a breakfast meeting with a colleague of mine at Sylvan (where I was working at the time). We were walking back to the office, and I remember remarking that it was such a beautiful, clear day; the kind of day that gives you an added bounce in your step and makes you feel more alive. Then, everything changed.
When I walked into my office, another colleague of mine told me to turn on the TV that I had in my office to CNN, saying that he had read on the internet that a “small plane had hit the World Trade Center.” About two minutes after turning it on, the two of us stood there and watched in horror as a second plane barreled into the other tower. We looked at each other, in an unspoken but instant realization that our world had changed forever. I was born in NYC, and had lived and worked in Manhattan earlier in my career. I had been in the World Trade Center many times. I could not believe my eyes and couldn’t control my anguish. Who could?
As a country, we mark the anniversary of that horrific day with the now traditional memorial services in lower Manhattan, the Pentagon and Shanksville (always dignified, stirring and irretrievably sad). Yet, this year we are also marking the ninth anniversary of the largest terrorist strike on American soil with an angry debate about a planned Muslim community center near Ground Zero, along with an unbelievable side-show of a so-called Christian minister threatening to burn the Koran. The contrast between the dignity of the memorial services and the angry shouting couldn’t be more obvious and disheartening.
I respect the feelings of people who are genuinely upset at the idea of a Muslim community center so close to a site that will always be associated with the vile hatred of a group of people who used the most extreme interpretation imaginable of the Islamic faith as a predicate for a barbaric, indeed, faithless act. Many feelings remain raw and have only been aggravated by the nine years since that time; years that have been dominated by two intractable wars in Islamic countries, resulting in thousands of deaths of brave Americans and countless acts of barbarism.
However, we are a nation founded on the principles of religious freedom and pluralism, the rights of private property owners, and the separation of church and state. We are a country of immigrants, and New York City, the place where the worst of the 9-11 terrorist acts took place, is our country’s most symbolic home to immigrants – with the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island welcoming “your poor, your tired, your huddled masses longing to be free.” It’s my impression that those words do not discriminate based on religion or place of origin. New York is also the most diverse city in the U.S., where people from every country in the world have settled to make it both rich in culture and joyously chaotic in its unique manner. Somehow, it all actually works pretty well. Radical terrorists hijacked not only planes that day, but also a sense of who we are. They hated the freedom found in the Western world; in fact, they hated the whole concept of modernity, and tried to draw us into a way of thinking about the world that is the very antithesis of our constitution and cultural tradition. Those protesting the right of law-abiding Muslims to peaceably practice their faith in lower Manhattan are, in my view, essentially giving in to the will of those who committed the heinous act in the first place. What makes us great as a nation, and as a people, is our tolerance of those unlike us. I applaud people across the political spectrum, like NYC Mayor Michael Bloomberg, Utah Senator Orrin Hatch and President Obama, all of whom have spoken out passionately and forcefully in favor of tolerance.
So what does all of this have to do with the Y? Well, quite a bit. The Y is an institution that strives for inclusion and that asks a community to overcome its differences to become part of something larger. Intolerance has no place in the Y. Founded as the Young Men’s Christian Association, the Y has reinvented itself on a continual basis to meet the needs of a changing and increasingly diverse society. The largest Y association in North America is in Toronto (another place I’m proud to have lived in). Earlier this year, long-time YMCA professional Medhat Mahdy was named its President and CEO. Medhat is a very smart, capable and funny guy. He’s a universally respected leader. He’s also a Muslim. Another of the largest Y associations is in Los Angeles. Its President and CEO is retiring this year after 40 years of incredible service. He’s an astute, acerbic, big-hearted guy who has become a legend in the Y. Larry Rosen, a Jewish American, leaves an incredible legacy of accomplishment.
The YMCA started over 160 years ago in London as a place where young Christian men gathered to learn, grow and gain support from each other in troubled times. Then, as now, the focus was on building community. The community at that time and in that place was relatively homogenous. Today, our world is anything but homogenous, but the Y is still here building community in an exceedingly complex and diverse society. We will never turn anyone away based on their religion, gender, income, politics, sexual orientation, race, country of origin or any other trait.
We welcome everyone at the Y because exclusion leads to a lack of understanding, which leads to fear and a weaker country and community. As a people, we are better than that.
Yours in Community,
John
Posted by John K. Hoey, President & CEO, Y of Central Maryland
Even though January marks the beginning of the calendar year, September marks the beginning of the real New Year for many of us. Whether it’s our first time sending a child off to school or twentieth time, there is a sensation of excitement with each beginning. A new lunch bag or backpack is a wonderful symbol of the season; fresh and ready to be filled up. This is a time ripe with hope and promise, and let’s be honest… anxiety and stress.
