Twenty-five years ago, I was driving to work when an ordinary morning suddenly became anything but ordinary.
It was around 6:30 a.m. on Sept. 11, 2001. I was a fifth-grade teacher at Starr King Elementary School in Long Beach, making the drive to campus and listening to sports radio, as I often did.
Then the subject turned from sports, and the mood shifted immediately.
The news was difficult to comprehend. A plane had struck the World Trade Center in New York. Then another. As I continued driving, the reports became more alarming, but the magnitude of what was happening still did not feel real.
That changed when I arrived at school. In the staff lounge, we turned on the television and saw the images for the first time. Like millions of Americans, I watched in shock. But I was also a teacher, and nearby was a classroom that would soon be filled with fifth-graders looking to the adults around them to understand what was happening.
I do not remember the exact words I used with my students that morning. I really wish now that I did. But what I do remember is the weight of that responsibility.
Our staff agreed that students should not be left to piece together what was happening from rumors or frightened conversations. They needed trusted adults nearby to help them process something none of us fully understood yet.
That is something educators know well. We are sometimes called to lead before we have had time to process events ourselves. We do not always get the luxury of having the perfect words.
Sometimes our role is simply to be present, to listen, to answer honestly and to create a sense of safety when the world outside the classroom suddenly feels much less certain.
September 11 was extraordinary in its scale. Nearly 3,000 lives were lost and countless families were forever changed. We remember the victims, the first responders and all those whose lives were shaped by that day. I also remember what came next.
Unity and purpose
In the hours, days and weeks after the attacks, there was a powerful sense that, despite our differences, we shared something larger. People checked on neighbors. Communities gathered. First responders ran toward danger. Americans grieved together.
At one of the darkest moments in our nation’s history, there was also a determination to care for one another. Twenty-five years later, that is something worth remembering.
Thankfully, educators are not confronted with events on the scale of September 11 every day. But difficult moments enter our schools in many forms. A student loses a parent. A family experiences homelessness. A community is shaken by violence or tragedy.
In those moments, we may not have the perfect words. Often, what matters most is being there — listening, answering honestly and reminding students they are not facing uncertainty alone.
Our shared humanity
That feels especially important as we approach this anniversary because every K-12 student today was born after Sept. 11, 2001. For them, 9/11 is history, known through images, lessons and the stories of those who lived through it.
Our responsibility is to help students understand what happened and what moments like that ask of us: to meet uncertainty with compassion, to hold onto our shared humanity and to be there for one another.
Almost exactly 25 years ago, I walked into my fifth-grade classroom without all the answers. In many ways, that is still the work.
We cannot promise young people a world without tragedy or uncertainty. But we can show them how to move through difficult moments with steadiness and care.
And perhaps that is how we best honor those we lost: by remembering, by embracing our shared values, and by being present when others need us most.
Dr. Stefan Bean has served as Orange County Superintendent of Schools since July 2024, leading the Orange County Department of Education and supporting 28 local school districts and more than 40 charter schools. He has spent nearly 30 years in education as a teacher, school leader and superintendent.