A 9/11 survivor’s message to Manchester

It has happened again, this time in Manchester, England, a city I’ve never been to but whose people I now feel intimately connected with. I am 18 years old. On Sept. 11, 2001, I lost my father and two of my uncles in the World Trade Center attacks.

I was only 3, but I have a clear memory of returning from ballet class to see my mother crying while watching television. My father, Mark Colaio, worked on the 104th floor of Tower 1 at Cantor Fitzgerald with my uncles. In one fell swoop, I lost three of the most important men in my life.

Growing up, 9/11 wasn’t just part of my life story; it was the singular event that shaped everything that came after — including my belief that love and understanding can always triumph over anger and hate. That can be a hard lesson to keep these days, with so many wanting to build higher walls and alienate their neighbors rather than come together. But to me, it has always been the only way forward.

Recently, my family was asked by the Justice Department to provide a victim’s statement for five men at Guantanamo who were behind 9/11. Their punishment could be death. After sitting with that in my stomach for a bit, I felt catalyzed to take action in a different way. I would never want to be a part of something that killed five people, regardless of what they’ve done. I would, however, love to tell these men that they have FAILED. Failed in their attempt to ruin my family’s spirit. Our ideals. Our lives. I wasn’t destroyed by their actions — I am actually stronger because of them. That’s what I would say.

And that’s what I would tell those who are grieving in Manchester. Don’t get hijacked by fear, hatred and ignorance. That’s what really killed the men I love.

I know I’m young, but I lived through the reconstruction of Ground Zero and live daily through the recovery. I know it was not hatred and separation that gave us what it took to get back up when we were shoved down. It was hope.

My fear is that 9/11 has been hijacked by Americans with a distorted definition of patriotism. They use it to justify hate, discrimination and isolation. I know exactly what anger and hatred look like. I watched my mother lose her husband, her brother and her brother-in-law. I watched my grandparents lose their children. My brother and I lost our father.

There is no question that our country is divided, but rather than weave more prejudice into the fabric of our country, can we please consider another approach? Our country was built on diversity. If we build walls and shut down our borders, we are perpetuating the same hate that killed my father.

Manchester, stories of your response to this tragedy make me so proud — stories of you opening up your homes to strangers, to children who got separated from their parents. Stories of you leading with love, not fear.

I would do anything to have my dad and uncles back. But in death, they taught me to use tragedy as a catalyst for a more peaceful and loving future.