From the archives: Judith Rodin | A community comes together

In her Sept. 10 op-ed in The New York Times, Susan Sontag anticipated that the anniversary of Sept. 11 would serve as "a day of mourning" and "an affirmation of American solidarity."

"But," she continued, "of one thing we can be sure. It is not a day of national reflection. Reflection, it has been said, might impair our 'moral clarity.' It is necessary to be simple, clear, united."

Sontag ought to have spent the day at a university. On the Penn campus, at least, reflection -- both emotional and intellectual -- was very much the order of the day on Wednesday as students, faculty and staff affirmed the values of an academic community.

In a microcosm of the natural grieving process, we began the first anniversary of Sept. 11 by reliving some of the anguish and anger we experienced that horrible day. We prayed for the families of the victims of the attacks. We honored their memory by sanctifying life through redemptive gestures and acts, such as giving blood in Houston Hall's auditorium, leaving a written pledge to community service on the Commemorative Wall in Bodek Lounge, creating a hand of hope on College Green or consoling a friend who lost a loved one.

As morning gave way to afternoon, the mood shifted from somber to upbeat. Listening to jazz on the Green or the beautiful organ concert by Joan Lippincott in Irvine Auditorium, we absorbed the healing notes of joy and hope embedded in the music, and through friendly conversation we rewove the fabric of our connectedness to one another.

By the time we gathered in Irvine for serious academic reflection, the Penn community had hit full stride toward the future. Tears were fewer, emotions were less raw among those who had not suffered the loss of loved ones and the prevailing mood was optimistic. In this phase of the memorial, we were connecting Sept. 11 to our academic mission as an institution as well as to our personal feelings and commitment.

As the thoughtful and original faculty presentations in Irvine reminded us, we're neither embarrassed to express our love of country and freedom nor afraid to call evil by its name. But comforting or cathartic as those affirmations feel, our shared values and better impulses must find their outlet in bold inquiry and scholarship, not in simple labels and reassuring bromides, in broader perspective, not in parochial refuge, and in informed debate, not in hardball exchanges of crossfire.

Each of Wednesday's presenters -- Michael Eric Dyson, Afaf Meleis, David Rudovsky, Jeremy Siegel and Harvey Rubin -- harnessed their reflections on Sept. 11 to chart fresh paths for intellectual exploration that will lead to greater knowledge and awareness of the complexities of pressing issues, as well as heightened resolve to use our knowledge to solve the world's most vexing problems.

Representing Penn's best thinking and dynamic diversity, these five scholars also drew on their individual disciplines, backgrounds and ideological positions to encourage us to consider complex issues and cultures in entirely new ways. In a large sense, these scholars were delivering a tutorial on the power of critical thinking and on our shared responsibility as a diverse community of scholars to apply critical thinking to the problems at hand.

Professor Rubin, for example, called attention to the matrix of threats we face -- chemical and biological warfare, nuclear attacks, and disabling breaches of our computer, communication and information systems upon which our economy and health rely -- and explained the leading role that universities like Penn will play in preparing a response. As he said, "We have the broadest base from which to assemble the multidisciplinary teams of theorists, experimentalists, practitioners and educators that will be needed."

If universities succeed in solving these problems, Professor Rubin concluded, "we will have helped to create a society with a superior public health system, with more secure financial institutions, with a more robust legal system, with a safer and more durable infrastructure and perhaps, just perhaps, a society joined together better equipped to handle any intentional or unintentional threat."

Reflecting on the depth of Penn's engagement with the community and the world, I arrived at the evening vigil full of hope for the future.

The vigil itself captured the spirit of deep reflection with which we had engaged one another throughout the day. Through readings, prayers, and remarks, many of us dipped into the wellsprings of our religious faiths to speak from the heart. None of us could deny stark differences among us. But we also understood that we have thrived on our differences because they have made us an extraordinarily dynamic community.

In one of the most moving moments of the evening, each of us was asked to hug the person standing close to us. We didn't stop to consider our neighbor's religion, or skin color, or party affiliation, or major, or age, or looks, or anything. By embracing one another, we embraced our differences, as if to say, "This is the world in which we live. Let's get to know it better."

I thought of a beautiful observation made by Rabbi Nachman, an 18th-century mystic. He wrote, "A person has to cross a very narrow bridge in this world. The most important thing is not to be afraid."

As I remarked during the vigil, the Penn community did not take flight or fright over the past year. We pulled together as a community of scholars and friends to talk things through, think things out, and make our world better in all senses of the word. Growing in wisdom and understanding, we had made it across safely.

Now, as we approach more narrow bridges, I know we will not be afraid. And as long as we stick together, I am confident that we will continue to increase our knowledge and understanding to accomplish the most important task: getting to the other side.

Judith Rodin is president of the University of Pennsylvania and a professor of psychology and psychiatry.

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