This was written by Miami-Herald Columnist Leonard Pitts, an African
American)
_______

We'll go forward from this moment
by Leonard Pitts

It's my job to have something to say.

They pay me to provide words that help make sense of
that which troubles the American soul. But in this
moment of airless shock when hot tears sting
disbelieving eyes, the only thing I can find to say,
the only words that seem to fit, must be addressed to
the unknown author of this suffering.

You monster. You beast. You unspeakable bastard.

What lesson did you hope to teach us by your coward's
attack on our World Trade Center, our Pentagon, us?
What was it you hoped we would learn?  Whatever it
was, please know that you failed.

Did you want us to respect your cause? You just damned
your cause.

Did you want to make us fear? You just steeled our
resolve.

Did you want to tear us apart? You just brought us
together.

Let me tell you about my people. We are a vast and
quarrelsome family, a family rent by racial, social,
political and class division, but a family
nonetheless. We're frivolous, yes, capable of
expending tremendous emotional energy on pop cultural
minutiae -- a singer's revealing dress, a ball
team's misfortune, a cartoon mouse. We're wealthy,
too, spoiled by the ready availability of trinkets and
material goods, and maybe because of that, we
walk through life with a certain sense of blithe
entitlement. We are fundamentally decent, though --
peace-loving and compassionate. We struggle to know
the right thing and to do it. And we are, the
overwhelming majority of us, people of faith,
believers in a just and loving God.

Some people -- you, perhaps -- think that any or all
of this makes us weak.  You're mistaken. We are not
weak. Indeed, we are strong in ways that cannot
be measured by arsenals.

IN PAIN

Yes, we're in pain now. We are in mourning and we are
in shock. We're still grappling with the unreality of
the awful thing you did, still working to make
ourselves understand that this isn't a special effect
from some  Hollywood blockbuster, isn't the plot
development from a Tom Clancy novel.

Both in terms of the awful scope of their ambition and
the probable final death toll, your attacks are likely
to go down as the worst acts of terrorism in the
history of the United States and, probably, the
history of the world.

You've bloodied us as we have never been bloodied
before.

But there's a gulf of difference between making us
bloody and making us fall.

This is the lesson Japan was taught to its bitter
sorrow the last time anyone hit us this hard, the last
time anyone brought us such abrupt and monumental
pain. When roused, we are righteous in our outrage,
terrible in our force.

When provoked by this level of barbarism, we will bear
any suffering, pay any cost, go to any length, in the
pursuit of justice.

I tell you this without fear of contradiction. I know
my people, as you, I think, do not. What I know
reassures me. It also causes me to tremble with
dread of the future.

In the days to come, there will be recrimination and
accusation, fingers pointing to determine whose
failure allowed this to happen and what can be
done to prevent it from happening again. There will be
heightened security, misguided talk of revoking basic
freedoms. We'll go forward from this moment sobered,
chastened, sad. But determined, too. Unimaginably
determined.

THE STEEL IN US

You see, the steel in us is not always readily
apparent. That aspect of our character is seldom
understood by people who don't know us well. On
this day, the family's bickering is put on hold.

As Americans we will weep, as Americans we will mourn,
and as Americans, we will rise in defense of all that
we cherish.

So I ask again: What was it you hoped to teach us? It
occurs to me that maybe you just wanted us to know the
depths of your hatred. If that's the case, consider
the message received. And take this message in
exchange: You don't know my people. You don't know
what we're capable of. You don't know what you
just started. But you're about to learn.