“Muslims don’t kill the elderly, women, or children.” I knew she was referencing the Quran. “They are not Muslim,” my grandmother repeated. A country song the radio played on repeat asked, Did you feel guilty ’cause you’re a survivor? For a while, I hoped the outrage over the attacks would fuel change in the Middle East, that perhaps America would finally get tough on Saudi Arabia, the country that had produced the majority of the terrorists in those hijacked planes. When it became obvious that wasn’t going to happen, I went on a bacon-eating binge; I visited a Christian church to listen to the prayers. When the same country song asked, Did you go to a church and hold hands with some strangers? On the radio, another country singer belted a very different kind of song: We’ll put a boot in your ass; it’s the American way.