David Rand, an ex-Marine who served in Afghanistan, is seen with his daughter Emma, 5, at their home in Sacramento, Calif., Friday.AP PHOTO
NEW YORK — David Rand cheerfully acknowledges he’s an overprotective father. An ex-Marine who served in Afghanistan and Iraq, he’s also a single dad to 5-year-old Emma.
And so when Emma’s grandmother suggested recently that the girl come visit her in Texas, flying from California as an unaccompanied minor, Rand had a blunt reaction: “Heck, no!”
He cites Sept. 11 as part of the reason. “The images just go through your mind,” he says. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something terrible happened and I wasn’t with her. If she were alone, and it was an attack — the guilt would just be too much.”
Ten years after the attacks, there’s no question that Sept. 11 continues to impact our national psyche, and some of that can be seen in how we raise our children. The Associated Press spoke with a number of families around the country and found that for some parents, the broader sense of insecurity and shaken confidence that accompanied the disaster has manifested itself in very concrete ways: Tightening curfews, giving children cell phones to keep better track of them, even barring them from air travel.
First and foremost, parents struggle with how and when to explain the disaster, especially to younger kids. For many children born after 2001, Sept. 11 is simply part of the wallpaper of their generation — not unlike the JFK assassination for baby boomers. But other kids, especially those old enough to remember the attacks, are more conscious of it.
And their response to it can change over time. “Children, as they get older, rethink certain events and come to a new understanding of them,” says Dr. David Schonfeld of the Cincinnati Children’s Hospital Medical Center, who spent more than two years working with children in New York City schools after the attacks. “What you first explain to a 7-year-old comes back differently when they’re 17 and leaving for college.”
Rand, the ex-Marine, now a 31-year-old college student in Sacramento, says his daughter “hasn’t asked” about 9/11, “and I haven’t volunteered the information. I wouldn’t want to scare a 5-year-old to death.”
When the time is right, though, he will tell her. And he’s also open to bringing her to New York some day. “The odds of the same thing happening are so remote,” he says.
Across the country in Massachusetts, Kelly Johnson, 28, has spoken openly about 9/11 to her 7-year-old, Seamus. “I don’t know how else to talk to him but to be truthful,” says Johnson, who lives in Fitchburg. “He’s a very smart kid.” She’s not sure, though, if he’s absorbed all the details: “He’s more focused on the firefighters.”
But the attacks haven’t changed her approach to raising kids, she says: “I’m the type of person who moves forward, and looks for the good. That’s how I parent, too.”
Johnson has no trouble letting Seamus travel by plane — he’s even flown as an unaccompanied minor. That’s an experience Karen Hunt’s kids — ages 15, 12 and 5 — won’t likely have.
Hunt and her family had been scheduled to fly to Colorado on Sept. 11, 2001, and none of them has been on a plane since. “We just don’t want to be one of the casualties,” says Hunt, 36.
In the years since the attacks, they moved from Portland some 20 miles away to Sandy, to be away from the city. Both parents got new jobs. The family will visit Seattle — by car — but not the Space Needle, and they will not go to large cities like Los Angeles or New York.
Some families feel the reverberations of 9/11 far less. Deanna Crask-Stone, a mother of two in Gallup, N.M., says that while she and her husband may be more vigilant when they travel, the family otherwise doesn’t think much about the attacks. “Maybe if we lived elsewhere we’d think about terrorism more,” she says. “In the big city you need to take different precautions.”
It’s different for the vast majority of kids in New York. “For New York children in particular, this in an indelible part of their DNA now,” says Christy Ferer, whose husband, former Port Authority director Neil D. Levin, died in the attacks. “They will have to live with the feeling of potential terrorism for the rest of their lives — a lot longer than us adults.”