Someday, my kids may come home with a homework assignment in which they ask me where I was on September 11th, 2001. My story will be boring.

The Businessman and I carpooled to work and we always listened to NPR. When we turned on the radio that day there were several brief interviews and they kept mentioning the World Trade Center and bombs.

I thought it was the anniversary the the WTC bombings and they were re-airing some of the coverage.

Then the Businessman said "This is real."

A plane had just crashed at the pentagon, then the second WTC plane crashed. The first tower collapsed as I got to work.

Productivity was low that day. I had no friends or family in New York or DC so I did what comes naturally to me in times of crisis: I calm down and try to stay out of the way. It was easy to do in Seattle. A few co-workers were distraught. Some had loved ones on the East Coast and couldn't contact them. Others were simply wishing we could all go home early so we could watch the news.

Once I got off work I met a friend at a favorite hangout. Gradually our husbands joined us and we spent the evening discussing the events of the day, while the TV continued its broadcast.

I didn't feel scared. I didn't feel hate. I felt sad. Sad that people were so quick to judge, alienate, and retaliate. Sad that so many innocent Americans had reason to be scared, simply because of their religion or where they were born.

Sad that it takes such a tragic event to unite people.