Nobody ever forgets our birthday. That's about the only good thing about being born on Sept. 11. To share a birthday with a national tragedy is to reconcile joy with grief once every year. Like a number of Brandeis students, I will always remember my birthday in 2001 better than any other.For Peter Vigneron '07, his 17th birthday dinner and present-opening ceremony was spent silently watching the World Trade Center collapse on CNN, from his Concord, Mass. home.

Sonja Gandert '08 walked through the halls of her Albuquerque, N.M. high school with her thoughts oscillating between the horrific images she had seen on television and looking forward to celebrating her 15th birthday with her family.

Anna Kerzner '09, of Houston, Texas, and Alex Martynov '08, of Scarsdale, N.Y., may have been separated by thousands of miles, but they were connected by one fact: After 9 a.m., very few people wished them a happy birthday that day.

I, too, have vivid memories of what was my 16th birthday. By 8:30 a.m., the day was off to a great start. I had woken up early to cut first period and get my driver's permit. Having passed the test, I sat beside my mother in the car on the way home, and switched on the radio for some victory music. Instead I heard a news bulletin.

Five years later, saying you were born on Sept. 11 invokes recognizable responses. There are awkward silences, sincere apologies, wisecracks and the cynical jibes of nonbelievers. It means nothing to be born on Dec. 7, a "date which will live in infamy," or on Nov. 22, even though any American who was alive in 1963 remembers where he or she was when President Kennedy was shot. That's because the day the Twin Towers fell-the day that changed America and the world-has become synonymous with a specific date. It is impossible to even see that date without remembering 2001. Just my luck: Now, every birthday I'll ever have will be some anniversary of 9/11.

Everybody with a Sept. 11 birthday recognizes the selfishness of lamenting a spoiled celebration in the face of truly dreadful events. We all know how petty it is to think of our birthdays on such a momentous anniversary, but, it's a type of selfishness ubiquitous in our day-to-day lives. In a world where terrible things happen every day, it's always a struggle to balance our personal triumphs and woes with issues of global importance.

Speaking with the Brandeisians who share my unfortunate birthday placed the bizarreness of our predicament in sharp relief.

"I find that sometimes I have to reaffirm that [Sept. 11] is really my birthday," Martynov says. "When I fill out birthday information on forms I feel like it's a sick joke; that the people reading it won't take it seriously."

Despite having to deal with raised eyebrows every time I show my ID, I find it important to try and salvage what can easily be called the worst possible date of birth. Otherwise, as Martynov says, "the terrorists win." After all, we were born first, and therefore deserve to enjoy at least a fraction of the day.

Vigneron identifies a number of things that keep the events of Sept. 11 from ruining his birthday.

"First of all, the day itself is totally arbitrary," Vigneron says. "It's not important that the towers fell when they did. It's the event that's tragic, not the day itself . I think about what happened a lot, whether it's an anniversary or not . Also, what's always been really important about my birthday has stayed the same. What matters is when loved ones and family members say 'happy birthday' and 'I love you.' And that has not changed at all."

I will even say I've received significantly more birthday wishes since 2001. My friends tend to say "I love you" in a slightly different way. More often than not, when my birthday rolls around I hear something along these lines:

"So Ben, your birthday's coming up. Didn't something else happen on that day? I can't remember, but it'll come to me."

These comments may seem brash, but there's nothing wrong with a little humor on an otherwise 8somber day. Sure, there should be a day of remembrance, but that doesn't mean there should be a smiling ban enforced from midnight to midnight.

"I have had a real love-hate relationship with my birthday," Martynov says. "It's difficult to deal with the two parts of the day. But what I try and do is recognize that it is a bad day, but at the end of the day move on."

The truth, as Gandert puts it, is that being born on Sept. 11 is an entirely different event from the attacks on New York City and Washington. "For a while I felt like it affected me more," she says. "But that notion left my mind because I quickly realized that having it be my birthday is nothing compared to what it was like for others. I now realize I can be sad for Sept. 11, but happy about my birthday."

For me, this Sept. 11 will not only mark the fifth anniversary of the attacks, but also the 21st anniversary of my birth. When midnight strikes, and I reach my first year of true adulthood, I plan to celebrate at the bar. But, with 9/11 on my mind, I'll take my margarita with a grain of salt.



Editor's note: Sonja Gandert '08, who is interviewed in this story, is a staff writer for the Justice.