Nearly 3,000 lives were taken that day. Among them was our beloved Sakhi volunteer,ย Swarna Chalasani.ย For the past 25 years, we have carriedย Swarnaโs memory with us. We grieve every lost life, every family forever changed, and a city that continues to carry the weight of this memory.

For the South Asian and Indo-Caribbean communities, September 11 also carries another profound grief: the hatred and violence that intensified in its aftermath.
In the days, months, and years that followed, our communities became targets of suspicion, surveillance, exclusion, and violence. Our names, faiths, languages, clothing, and skin color became markers used to question our place in this country. The same narratives that fueled suspicion and violence at home were used to justify the U.S. led โwars on terror,โ bringing mass displacement and profound violence to communities across the world: global loss and destruction that continues to haunt us to today.
We were grieving. Yet at the same time, we were asked to prove our humanity and our belonging.
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In the immediate aftermath of 9/11, Sakhiโs helpline nearly fell silent as South Asian survivors feared racism and bias attacks outside their homes. By the following year, the number of domestic-violence-related calls and emails Sakhi received had more than doubled, rising from 209 in 2001 to 433 in 2002.ย When culturally and linguistically responsive services remained scarce, Sakhi provided a vital connection to safety, advocacy, and community.
Twenty-five years later, far more organizations and systems are in place, yet the politics of fear that took hold after September 11 remain with us. We see it in rhetoric that portrays immigrants, South Asians, and Muslims as dangerous, in policies that treat entire communities with suspicion, and in a culture that turns difference into something to fear.
In March 2002,ย 25% of U.S. adultsย surveyed by Pew Research Center said they believed Islam was more likely than other religions to encourage violence. This spring,ย 51% said the same.ย This prejudice has had devastating consequences. The FBI recordedย 28ย anti-Muslim hate crimes in 2000. In 2001, that number surged toย 481. These rates have remained above pre-9/11 levels since.
At Sakhi, our work has exemplified that violence grows wherever dehumanization is allowed to take hold. Gender-based violence, racism, Islamophobia, and xenophobia all depend on systems that decide whose pain matters, whose safety receives protection, and whose voice carries power. The need for Sakhiโs services has continued to grow.ย In 2025, Sakhi worked alongside 710 survivors,ย the highest number in our history. The fear that keeps a survivor inside their home because they fear violence within it cannot be separated from the fear that keeps them inside because they fear what may happen when they step outside.
There can be no collective safety without the liberation and the belonging of every one of us.
We carry this commitment forward in Swarnaโs memory. In 2002, we established theย Swarna Chalasani Economic Empowerment Fundย in her honor. For nearly 25 years, the fund has invested in survivors pursuing education, professional training, economic security, and greater independence. Survivors have earned degrees and certifications, entered new professions, and built futures for themselves and their families.
We are asked toย never forgetย because grief carries a responsibility.ย We remember the lives taken that morning. We also remember the fear and violence that South Asian and Indo-Caribbean communities endured in its aftermath. To honor this history is to recognize how it continues to shape the world we live in today-and to recommit ourselves to building a world in which every one of us can live with safety, dignity, and belonging.
With Care,




