I can still remember being enthralled as I watched replay after replay of the crash. As if I could ever forget the images of stunned New Yorkers stumbling out of a dust-coated lower Manhattan. At 9 years old I ran through the gamut of emotions every American experienced in the days following the attack. United we stood in our grief, determined to use these volatile emotions to fight the terrorism that had invaded our homes.

But in the wake of the 10-year anniversary of the attack, it seems these powerful emotions have only inhibited us. Instead of inspiring the motivation to effectively seek out the perpetrators, our hubris led us into a poorly conceived war, and our fear superseded our right to privacy. Had we separated our grief from our decision making, we could have avoided 10 years of useless war and civil liberties violations.

Now, this may seem incredibly insensitive. Our country was attacked, and they hadn't targeted politicians or other public officials. According to New York Magazine, 20 percent of Americans knew someone hurt or killed on 9/11. With an attack so personal, emotions would inevitably play a part in our reaction. But couldn't we use our anger as an impetus to make deliberate and competent decisions?

No, because emotions almost never influence good decision making, as evidenced by the Iraq War. Less than 2 years after the attack, we invested hundreds of thousands of soldiers, billions of dollars and, unbeknownst then, the next 10 years to searching for nonexistent weapons of mass destruction under the guise of combating terrorism.

We were the strongest nation in the world and we suffered a massive terrorist attack for which we could do little but watch and curb the damage in the aftermath. In response, the administration felt the need to reassert itself through a rushed invasion devoting seemingly inexhaustible resources and manpower. Ten years later, the effort may still require further long-term support and funding.

While the pride that led us into war was detrimental, the fear that developed after 9/11 actually facilitated a level of caution that decreased the possibility of future attacks. While these safety concerns are relevant, in the last 10 years, we've seen the slow and deliberate erosion of our privacy rights for national security without considerable resistance from the American people. Though there are legitimate reasons to look through a duffel bag with suspicious material, asking a 95-year-old woman to remove her diaper at a Florida airport to conduct a thorough body search is representative of our overly cavalier attitude toward privacy. While 80 percent of Americans in 2002 were unperturbed by infringements on their privacy, 10 years later, an Associated Press poll indicates that only 23 percent approve of government surveillance of phone calls or emails.

The emotions that arise from Sept. 11 every year are nearly always as vivid as they were that day 10 years ago. Whereas the nation has been slowly moving on, the impact of the decisions made right after the attack are still reverberating today.

Though these mistakes have become part of the changed world following the attacks, they don't have to be. By opposing the administration's abusive use of intelligence against its citizens and protesting the war we can work to correct our 10-year-old mistakes.