Ahmed Tharwat on 9/11: Arab-American also felt victimized

What do I think?

I can't begin to imagine the sickness in the mind of the people who were behind the cowardly terrorist attack that took place Tuesday morning. However, as an Arab-Muslim-American, every time there is such an act of terrorism against innocent Americans, my reflexive thinking takes over. Suspicions and speculations start tearing me apart as I'm desperately hoping for someone else to take the blame; it's my only resort.

Although I consider Minnesotans among the nicest people on earth, guilt by association has frequently overshadowed my normal life. I'm more often than not pushed into a debate I never started. On the street and shopping malls, people's eyes start demanding answers; they want to know my reaction, and often wonder what I think.

As a hyphenated American, my margin of error gets smaller and narrower. I quickly lose my Fifth Amendment right. And the assault on my cognitive sovereignty begins.

What could anyone think of a tragedy of this magnitude? To me, this wasn't just an "attack on America," as the bold, ominous, CNN headline flashed throughout the day. This was an attack on us all, Americans, Christians, Muslims and Jews alike. Indeed, it is an attack on democracy and humanity that will never further any cause or faith.

The horrific images flashing on the TV screen sucked the air from my room. I wished this were just — as sick as this may seem — another "survival" TV episode gone awry.

Thoughts started gushing out of my head, confusion overwhelmed me. I couldn't fully understand what happened. But I couldn't turn the TV off. I started pacing in the hallway. My cat ran for cover.

On the TV screen, all I saw were confused, innocent people running everywhere. I didn't think of their religion or nationality. In fact, my sister-in-law was in the building in Manhattan at the time of the attack, but luckily she could run out of harm's way. I couldn't keep my eyes and mind working together in order. My heart started racing; I wanted to do something; I wanted to be there in Manhattan and feel the heat. I felt helpless, crippled by my physical limitations. My array of emotions overwhelmed any task. I became motionless.

TV experts started talking about Muslim terrorists; Osama bin Laden's name started flashing on the screen. Sen. Orrin Hatch called it a jihad against the West. I wished I could say something. I wished I could meet each and every one of the victims' families and tell them I didn't do it. I have been deprived of even having a normal grief over this heinous crime. I lost my innocence. This felt also like an attack on me and I was just another casualty.