For millions of Generation Z, the terror attacks of September 11, 2001, are not a direct memory but a story passed down through the raw reactions of parents and grandparents. Most Gen Zers were not yet born or were too young to recall the day planes struck the Twin Towers and the Pentagon. Yet the aftermath of that tragedy has profoundly shaped their lives, from growing up amid the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan to facing the persistent threats of ISIS and al Qaeda.
A generational divide in memory
A recent Gallup poll highlights a striking gap: only 16% of Gen Z say 9/11 permanently changed their way of life, compared with 36% of millennials, 33% of Generation X, 29% of baby boomers, and 15% of the Silent Generation. This suggests that for younger Americans, 9/11 is more a historical event than a personal turning point.
Yet the personal connection remains strong for many. Bianca Pagano, a 23-year-old Manhattan native, told The Hill, "I don't remember 9/11, but I know exactly where my mom was and where my dad was." She describes the day as "a visceral part of history" that permeates American life, from airport security to the racial profiling that followed.
Pagano notes a generational shift in attitudes toward that profiling. She recalls hearing parents at her Irish Catholic school say that "thinking of people differently based on their ethnic background" was "perfectly okay." But she believes her generation has moved past that, pointing to the popularity of Zohran Mamdani, the first Muslim mayor of New York City.
When asked if Gen Z has a similar singular catastrophe, Pagano hesitates. Perhaps it's the accumulation of tragedies like Sandy Hook and Parkland that have desensitized her generation. "These events have lost their significance — not to downplay them because they're extremely serious — but we were so desensitized to them that it's like, 'F— no, I'm not going to remember where I was because it's my everyday,'" she said.
Education gaps on 9/11
Only 15 states require 9/11 to be taught in schools, according to Joseph Kornhoff, executive director of the Pentagon Memorial Foundation. "It was so fresh and raw that schools didn't have time to put it into the curriculum, but here we are 25 years later and we're looking at generations coming up and still not having that ability to learn about 9/11 from a historical perspective, from a personal stance," he told The Hill. The National 9/11 Pentagon Memorial in Arlington, Va., is set to break ground on an education center Saturday, aiming to bridge that gap.
Kornhoff, a millennial, says 9/11 inspired a generation of service members. "It spurred a generation of our military. It was entirely volunteer force at that time and remains. You knew that you were going to be deployed to Iraq or Afghanistan within a year of enlisting or within a year of your commission as an officer," he said. "I think it was a catalyst towards a life of service for a lot of our nation."
Charlie Kirk's assassination and memeification
When conservative activist Charlie Kirk was assassinated at Utah Valley University last year, initial online mockery was not tolerated — some people even lost their jobs. But within weeks, the internet culture shifted rapidly, driving the "memeification" of the late founder of Turning Point USA. An AI-generated song called "We Are Charlie Kirk" began as a tribute but became a widely mocked meme. Others morphed Kirk's face with the Mona Lisa and created websites that can "Kirkify" any picture.
Kirk had a massive social media presence, livestreaming debates where he defended conservative policies. The camera was rolling when he was shot on Sept. 10, 2025, and the video spread rapidly on X, gaining millions of views.
Alex Turvy, a media sociologist and author of the upcoming book "Memes in the Machine," says part of the dynamic comes from people feeling force-fed a narrative. "When you try to force people to see something a certain way, they resist that," he told The Hill. As some resisted the veneration of Kirk's legacy, they made jokes.
The Utah declaration of Charlie Kirk Day one year after his killing has further fueled the divide. While some honor his memory, others continue to mock it, reflecting a broader generational and ideological split in how tragedy is processed online.
