Yesterday in a discussion, I made the statement that I am not anti military: that I believed this country needs to maintain a well trained military to defend us in case of attack. I sited my background as a child surrounded on all sides by military men and women, in the days when we had a “different” kind of military than we do now. Back when patriotism meant something, when all of us proudly sacrificed for the “war effort” and everyone, including us kids, were involved somehow in action that supported the troops we were so deeply proud of.
I haven’t been able to get my own words of yesterday out of my head since, or the sense of dread in knowing this meant I needed to stop and take a very hard look at those memories.
As I have shared here before, I left my blind patriotism to rot in the Viet Nam swamp where my brother died. My blind trust and unquestioning belief in the inherent goodness and integrity of America Leadership died a horrible death back then, never to be resurrected.
But at least I had my memories of how it once was. I could remember how good America was once. I still feel the beat of the drums as soldiers marched in close formation at Camp Rucker in 1950, wanting with every atom of my being to be one of them: to wear that proud uniform myself someday: to be one who dedicated their life to serving my country.
And now, as I am writing, something deep inside me tells me I cannot totally trust those memories anymore, those beloved memories that let me believe that if America was all good once, it can be good again.
But I was a child then. I believed everything the grownups in my world believed, because it was the only information I had to work with.
Were they being told the truth by the leaders of this land then, anymore than we are being told the truth now? Or was the government exploiting the genuine, soul deep love of country that flowed so strongly through the veins of those who served, and those who loved them, and all Americans, to fill hidden political agendas kept secret? Just how long has the leadership of America been propagandizing own people as it is now?
Just when did the brainwashing of Americans really begin, that has led so many of us to believe, consciously or unconsciously, that we are somehow a “chosen people”, far superior to all others elsewhere? To the point where so many are literally unaffected by the fact that tens of thousands of “others” just like us, except for the color of their skin, are being blow apart by US foreign policies that leave pieces of babies hanging from olive trees, while we plan our next trip to the mall? As well as out own troops?
And the answer is this: is WAS present when I was born. And long before that. I saw the proof of it all around me, in Dothan Alabama at age 10, when I got my first look at a black person. I watched in horror as an the old woman dug in our garbage can, carefully brushed the coffee grounds off our discarded morning pancakes, and fed it to her small grandson who was clinging to her skirts.
I saw it every day after than when black people automatically stepped off the sidewalk into the gutter, to let me have the sidewalk to myself. I heard it in the condemnation I received from my white classmate who chanted “Yankee go home!” at me. I felt it in the whipping I got at home for making friends with a black playmate.
All of this was going all around me, even as I stood clinging to that chain link fence, watching the troops parade by, my heart about to burst with pride and unquestioning love of my country.
I hate these thoughts that won’t leave me alone this morning, I JUST HATE them.
I want to hang onto some shred my old belief that a truly good America existed once and that I can know this for sure, because I saw it with my own eyes and felt in my own heart.
I feel literally pulled-apart. Torn between what I truly believed my country was once, and what it really was, even then. Torn between such pride and love, for the military, and the horror unfolding in front my eyes of what has been made of it by those in command and what it is doing to others..
Torn between this, and my certain belief that the blood of most of those who serve now is just as rich with sincere love of country as was the spilled blood of my father and brother. Men and women who voluntarily serve believing they are defending America, and now, must not only carry the burden of a war that cannot ever be won, but the abject failures of their commanders that have allowed atrocities to be committed by those among them not fit to serve.
We believe what we need to believe , and for 65 years, my precious military memories have sustained me, and there they were again yesterday, spilling out of my mouth, right into the air in front of me, where I couldn’t miss them.
Yes, they are real memories. Those soldiers were real people with good and courageous hearts who, as I did, believed what they had been taught.
And like for me, somehow, the other realities that also existed were shoved aside far enough to not interfere with our fervent “love of country”, no matter what. No matter what else was so terribly, awfully wrong with her.
That war gave is a “shared mission”. A sense of unity as a nation coming together against a common enemy, It let us feel so good about who we are, so special, so able to NOT see or address effective any of the other harsh and bleeding realities such as the inhumane levels of racism that was also a part of who we were, as Americans.
If any structure is put together wrong, or made with bad materials, or build on a faulty foundation, there is only one thing to do. Pull it apart, fix what is wrong, and then rebuilt it.
My own precious old military memories were, I see now, build on a cloud of imbedded illusion about how truly “exceptional” my country was, not on any solid foundation at all. The only truly real thing about them was what was the hearts of those who believed they were truly serving the country they loved and were willing to give their lives for her. They represent, to me , the best of what America could be.
Now I must do some more work on me. It feels to me as if, as a child born in America, I was soon clothed in many layers of beautiful clothing that was chosen for me before I even was aware that I was naked.
They placed a red white and blue patriot robe over my beautiful snow white gown.
They gave me a crown that said I was more special than people from other lands.
They gave me many veil so fine I didn’t know I even had them on, that would let me see all the beautiful things about my land of birth, and kept from my view all that was so very ugly.
They gave me golden shoes in which to walk the intended paths laid out for me,. And in my hand they placed a cross on which hung a bleeding Jesus, to remind me always to serve the God of their understanding and that I blessed to be one on the pathway to the only true God.
Now I am 65, and life has managed to slowly but surely strip off all of these clothes I didn’t even know I was wearing. I hung onto each piece for all I was worth, and fought to stay covered, even when I didn’t now that’s what I was doing. I was terrified to be without my clothes.
Now here I am, naked as a damned jaybird, with the last scrap of covering I had, my precious old selective memories, wafting away on the winds of unwelcome awareness once again.
I am cold, and I feel a little ashamed of my nakedness. I see wrinkles and rolls and age spots.
This will take some getting used to.
But in time, I suspect I will get used to it, and then I will be able to focus on what’s going on inside, in my own still beating heart, that is just as full of courage as any good soldiers heart. The one who will NOT give up the dream of what my country could be. The one that sees other hearts just like mine, beating in bodies of all colors, in all the other countries, pumping the same courage-colored blood.
I see now, I couldn’t do much until I was rid of my robes, and my fine veils of American exceptionalism and white privilege that I honestly didn’t even know I was wearing for most of my lifetime.
Funny. I don’t feel as pulled apart now as I did when I began this writing.
And really, that last tiny scrap of memory material wasn’t covering all that much of me anyway.
I am not ashamed to be a naked American.
I am not afraid to see my country as she is.
How else can we help her if we cannot see her wounds?
Besides, I know where the real America lives, and it sure as hell isn’t in Washington DC.
She lives right here in my heart, and in your hearts.
She is in our hands, not theirs.
And we ARE each helping her heal, cell by cell, right from where we each are right now, as each of us, one by one, dare strip ourselves of any and all restricting clothing we never chose in the first place, and dare to walk naked and barefoot on the soil of this beautiful planet that we all share.
(note: This is unedited on purpose. If I stop to edit, I may not send it because right now I am feeling a teeny bit “exposed!) )
great essay.
One thing that is interesting about the ‘thinkers’ on the right, and left-center-right, is that they have thought a lot about how a nation cannot truly be great and do great things without believing in a larger narrative (essentially a mythology) about itself. Lacking that narrative, the nation cannot be mobilized for big things (not all necessarily involving war), and will soon turn upon itself in factionalism.
The process you describe of losing veil and veil of mythology, is one I have written about in the context of Bush’s war in Iraq. Whatever you think about the underlying truths that buffet American exceptionalism, the war has exposed many of them. But it has even gone further than exposing myths. It has actually overturned many of the things that were true about America. Nowhere is this more clear than in our turn away from multilateralism, international institutions (which we set-up), and human rights.
Even worse, in the context of the UN, NATO, etc. we could look at Vietnam (including the domestic excesses of that era) as an aberration and still draw a largely progressive narrative from the Depression to the present. No more. We have regressed right back to the Nixon era and are repeating all the same mistakes, including on domestic surveillance and human rights abuses.
What Bush has done is to kill the narrative. The narrative was part myth and part truth. The myths lie exposed, the truth has been replaced with a different, ugly truth.
He has done exactly that.
Hopefully, in some way that I just cannot envision right now, we will survive this, and those to come after us may even a find a way to be grateful to this arrpgant, dangerous socioathic bastard for dragging the ugliness right into the worlds spotlight where it cannot be ignored.
Whether we can survive him and his, and thier monstrouly ugly new truths is no longer a certainty to me, given current events.
Need to go out..will check back in later..
Simply beautiful, scribe.
See your real clothes, the ones that were always there, they are much more beautiful than the others, because you chose them, and at the same time, you were born wearing them.
Those beautiful clothes are what let you see the elder lady feeding her son from the trashcan, when she was invisible to so many, and know inside yourself that it was wrong, to feel uncomfortable when people stepped into the gutter so that you could pass, that was your real clothes itching to throw off the others. It is because of those real clothes that you made friends with another little one, simply because you liked each other, in the way of human beings, it is your real clothes that set you apart and made you who you are, both then and now.
So you are not naked, you are simply dressed in the clothes you were intended to wear, that give you freedom of movement, made of a fabric that shimmers lightly, so that those who see you, or even see your words, will recognize you as someone who is part of what is good about the real world, part of what is good about any country you are in at any given moment.
So enjoy those real clothes, the fabric is of excellent quality, the workmanship is superb. Stand in front of the mirror, take a few steps, enjoy the feel against your skin, go ahead, give a little whirl, claim and enjoy your real clothes. Sashay, Shantay!
scribe, look down. See your real clothes, the ones that were always there, they are much more beautiful than the others, because you chose them, and at the same time, you were born wearing them.
Those beautiful clothes are what let you see the elder lady feeding her son from the trashcan, when she was invisible to so many, and know inside yourself that it was wrong, to feel uncomfortable when people stepped into the gutter so that you could pass, that was your real clothes itching to throw off the others. It is because of those real clothes that you made friends with another little one, simply because you liked each other, in the way of human beings, it is your real clothes that set you apart and made you who you are, both then and now.
So you are not naked, you are simply dressed in the clothes you were intended to wear, that give you freedom of movement, made of a fabric that shimmers lightly, so that those who see you, or even see your words, will recognize you as someone who is part of what is good about the real world, part of what is good about any country you are in at any given moment.
So enjoy those real clothes, the fabric is of excellent quality, the workmanship is superb. Stand in front of the mirror, take a few steps, enjoy the feel against your skin, go ahead, twirl a bit, claim and enjoy your real clothes. Sashay, Shantay!
I am trying to use a computer with a little button instead of a mouse, and it is a steep learning curve for me.
That’s OK. It was worth repeating.
Thank you, Ductape. (sniff)
Masterful, Scribe. . .and filled with many kleenex pauses.
You say it, do it, be it like no other I know. It is very clear vision you have. . .seeing into my mind and heart as you do so repeatedly in your writings. This is no different from all the other times.
Thank you sister.
Loves and hugs
Shirl
I too have times when I am ashamed of my country. I hate this administration. I hate this war and all wars for the innocents that are killed and maimed. That this one is done in my name causes me no end to my shame.
But around me I see:
strangers on a highway who pull a man out of his burning truck.
people in my office who regularly use their own money to buy our clients food and clothing
a woman dashing through a driving rain to put her umbrella over the heads of an elderly couple as they make their way into the grocery store
a woman buys a half-finished afghan at a garage sale, an afghan started by the deceased woman who used to live there, and returns it finished a week later, accepting no money.
a teenager helps a mentally retarded man order a burger and fries.
a woman with only a few grocery items lets a tired mother with a full cart and a crying baby go ahead of her in line.
All of these things happened near me, to me, or I read in the local paper within the last week. Ashamed of America? Not me. Ashamed of the people in charge? You bet.
When someone comes in and makes a blanket statement that America is evil except for, seemingly, 7 people who disagree with this administration and this war, I’m sorry, but I do take it personally.
I will not hang my head in shame. I will not wear a hair shirt or a scarlet letter, or bear the weight of all the evil in the world on my shoulders. There is enough blame to go around and standing around whipping myself with chains in order to satisfy someone’s need to place blame on one convenient target would be a tremendous waste of time and energy.
Let’s get to work changing what we can, but not lose sight of what is good and right and beautiful.
As always, SN – thank you for reminding us to keep our sights on all the goodness and love that surrounds us – there is certainly a great deal of it to behold …. and there’s plenty of goodness and love to be shared with others from within each of ourselves.
I think that most people are capable of face-to-face kindness. And that is indeed a good thing. What I wish for is that more people might learn to extend the reach of their protective umbrellas–to be able to visualize people in parts of town they don’t visit and parts of the world they think of as the home of the enemy, and to see those people as human beings standing in the rain, and to offer them comfort as well.
I agree. But each of us is responsible for making the world in our immediate vicinity a better place, too.
but as you said Raging Hippie… those same people who might let someone cut in line at a store, may be the very ones who would applaud the death of a child overseas while shouting, “better their child than mine” or “Kill em all and let G-d Sort em out”.
This is a wonderful diary and it speaks to so much that we in this house are dealing with. Husband, former military man, and me – grown up military brat.
I used to support the troops… but now I can only support bringing them home NOW.
I’ve seen too many soldiers and Marines try to stand up and speak out against this war and have their voices chopped off. Where was their support?
I’ve heard of too many of these people being threatened, beaten by their own unit. I’ve seen too many women raped by their own command and then threatened and singled out even in a July 4th formation… I’ve seen too much to tell me that this military doesn’t have a heart or soul.
Too many have remained silent while they watched their “brother” commit horrendous crimes. Stoody by and aided while children were raped. They didn’t question anything… they just continued on and threatened or remained silent while a few tried to stand up.
This war and the attrocities will only end when the military men and women grow a spine and stand up to their “brotherhood”. Real heros don’t go along to get along.
Yes, they have a choice. They are humans.
I’m still trying to work things out. I am so outraged by my government and how it totally doesn’t support the troops and is just using them, but then I see how the military threatens so many… and the attrocities…
I do not spit on either my government or the troops. But I sure as hell don’t support what they are doing. I can’t just see the attrocities as being a “sign” of how screwed up this administration or this war is. I can no longer try to wrap my mind around a UNIT standing by as a child is raped and then shot and then her bloody body is burned. This is not just ONE CASE.
I love my country, I love the good things about it… and that is why I can say I hate what it has become and what is being ignored. I see so much hate nowadays. I see so much fear. Anger. Yes there are wonderful people doing wonderful things every day…
My friend visited several of the concentration camps and read a story of how sickened the American GIs were who stormed… I forget the name of the camp. They were so angry they forced the townspeople to LOOK at what they had been ignoring or unwilling to fight against. They made them witness.
Yes we witness good things here in America but we also have many bad things in America and many horrible things being done in our name, and for “our sake”.
Each day I try to witness.
Not in my name. No more.
Extend our reach, Oh yes, this is so desperately needed now, more than ever. There are so many mor similarities among humans than there are differences, if only we could get close enough to each other to see them and share them.
It doesn’t matter what color or religion a mother is, she will throw her body over her child to take the bullet. There isn’t a human being of any color whose heart deosn’t not shatter when sometone they love is senselessly killed. Andf there is’t an ordiary citizen anywhere in this world who is not living in some degreeof fear of being destroyed by a war or the effects of war.
The kind of people you tell of here amd the kind I have also been blessed to see everywhere I look, are all courageous, compassionate and loving people, who live in America. The same kind of people who live in every other country in this world as well.
I do not hang my head in shame because there was so much about my country and it’s leadership that I could not. did not see for so long.
I feel regret. I feel sorrow. I feel duped and betrayed by my own elected leaders. I wish with all my heart I had seen sooner and done more to stop those who have and are exploiting this tender new country and used her, and us, to serve thier own selfish ends.
I feel scared because if ever we all needed to see clearly, and I mean poeple from all over the globe, not just us, it is now, and so many still cannot or are not read to or will not.
What I am ashamed of is the OUTCOME of all of whatever has contributed to us ending up with an administration like this ending up in charge of Americas actions. I am ashamed of the needless killing being done in my name. And how can I NOT not know that as one of the America people, even if only because I couldn’t see, I still am responsible for my portion of the responsibility for this.
That does NOT mean I will sit with head in shame or walk around in a hair shirt. It does mean I will so all I can do from here on, as an American citizen and as a citizen of this world, to end needless wars.
Scribe, I’m hoping you don’t mind if I share just one of your many thoughts from our conversation yesterday. (And what a fabulous conversation it was!)
We spoke of the differences between taking action politically and taking action on a personal, spiritual level – through connections with like-minded people, who together can work to make a difference in bettering this society, one step at a time… expanding our bonds and together working to increase the strength and volume of our voices, until we are heard. And, yes, we will be heard.
To quote Nancy (if I may, please….oops…too late to ask your permission! ;^) “…The Meek are Getting Ready” Yes….that has become so very evident.
Thanks again, Scribe – I continue to learn from your wisdom, and grow from the strength of your personal courage. (I’m glad you chose not to edit – this is straight from your heart.) Bless you. -A-
Thank you for this, Anon.
I’ve been beating myself up a bit because I missed a protest at Ft. Lewis. I question my integrity because I am frightened each time I go out to march or protest.
But I must try to remember that each day we try to step forward in even the smallest ways. What we purchase, what we put in our babies bodies, hell, just reading a story outloud to a child…
I must try to remember that as I do some of these “big things” it’s only because I am doing the every day things that makes it possible.. or maybe it’s because the way I am living now and how I have changed makes it IMpossible for me not to do so.
A brave man told me that in order to be able to march, we must make sure we also walk with our loved ones.
Then factor in also, this. We affect others by how we are, and how we live our lives. I doubt you will even know how much you have empower others, simply by being who you are, in your everyday life as well as on the protest line.
As listening this evening to a compilation CD (“Songs of Protest”) I couldn’t help but think of this diary when I listened to the P.F. Sloan song “Eve of Destruction” – most memorably performed by Barry McGuire. So many of the words still ring true to this day, in so many regards. Especially with Newt Gingrich out there talking about things such as WWIII.
I recall listening to this song repeatedly as a young girl, while my brother was serving in Vietnam. (This fall, after not seeing my brother for 25+ years, I discovered that he had served under Lt. Cally. And no, thankfully, my brother was not present at Mi Lai.) And…allow me to apologize in advance if this isn’t the most hopeful song out there….but it gives a person cause to think…and perhaps take action – whatever form of the action. But act, we must – in one way or another.
Eve of Destruction
The eastern world, it is exploding
Violence flarin’, bullets loadin’
You’re old enough to kill, but not for votin’
You don’t believe in war, but what’s that gun you’re totin’
And even the Jordan River has bodies floatin’
But you tell me
Over and over and over again, my friend
Ah, you don’t believe
We’re on the eve of destruction.
Don’t you understand what I’m tryin’ to say?
Can’t you feel the fears I’m feelin’ today?
If the button is pushed, there’s no runnin’ away
There’ll be no one to save, with the world in a grave
[Take a look around ya boy, it’s bound to scare ya boy]
And you tell me
Over and over and over again, my friend
Ah, you don’t believe
We’re on the eve of destruction.
Yeah, my blood’s so mad feels like coagulatin’
I’m sitting here just contemplatin’
I can’t twist the truth, it knows no regulation.
Handful of senators don’t pass legislation
And marches alone can’t bring integration
When human respect is disintegratin’
This whole crazy world is just too frustratin’
And you tell me
Over and over and over again, my friend
Ah, you don’t believe
We’re on the eve of destruction.
Think of all the hate there is in Red China
Then take a look around to Selma, Alabama
You may leave here for 4 days in space
But when you return, it’s the same old place
The poundin’ of the drums, the pride and disgrace
You can bury your dead, but don’t leave a trace
Hate your next-door neighbor, but don’t forget to say grace
And… tell me over and over and over and over again, my friend
You don’t believe
We’re on the eve
Of destruction
Mm, no no, you don’t believe
We’re on the eve of destruction.
Well, I got to this sincere and well-expressed diary late in the game, after that disheartening clash over the draft. That’s the first time I was in the middle of a thread with name-calling, etc.
I believe we can hold on to ideals expressed as the core of America, and still resist their violation by our own leaders and fellow citizens. We can hold on to the ideals without identifying with a nation state so closely that we give over our will and conscience and intelligence.
I hope the ideals of the military can be preserved by honorable people, and that those ideals will be used when needed to do the work of peace. I don’t believe in forcing people to do the government’s bidding.
I also looked up to the military when I was young. For awhile my goal was the Naval Academy. But agreeing to go thousands of miles from home to kill strangers–the burden of proof is awfully, awfully high. The war logic is self-perpetuating, as is the inevitable war fever. It’s more important to take a stand against this image of war as necessary or noble, when most of the time it is neither, and try to help hasten a future beyond war.
I believe that war brutalizes us all. That after some glimmer of hope in the 60s and 70s, we have been sliding back down the slippery slope of brutality, and if things are ever going to get better we have to put a stop to this. We need to question ourselves about this, especially when we see Americans engaged in torture and other acts of brutality.
I believe this country owes to it soldiers the protection, pay and medical care that any politician gets, if not better. It owes to its soldiers as to us all to never commit to an unnecessary war, and not to lie.
I believe in the end we all make choices, and we all have to live with our choices. We’re all naked, coming and going.
The brutality, the destruction of war radiates outward from where the bombs fall into every one of us, wherever we are. We’ve seen it in existance right here on these pages. It blasts apart precious connections among people who need to stay together now more more than ever, to combine our strenghts and efforts to end this.
I try to see where to start, in ending this. Can it be ended through a political and electoral process as corrupt as we the one have now, where the richest and most ruthless, unprincipled and corrupt among us are most likely to win, because they only care about power for their own good, not the worlds?
How do we ever get a people who have been programmed to believe that aquisition of goods, status and money is the primary definition of sucess, to stop supporting the economic infrastructure of the war/profit machine? What it is going to take for a whole nation to re-align this materialistic “me and mine first” value system to one that can understand the need to embrace the concept of serving the “comon good” of not only Americans, but all the people of the world and the good of this planet itself?
Where is the end of the string in this masasive tangled ball of descructive threads that we can actually get ahold of to even begin untangling this?
I really enjoyed your insight in the other thread. It was pretty scary in there and I felt maybe I had done something terrible by expressing a different idea… and then I read yours. It may be the only reason I was able to leave the computer and go and do what needed to be done with my family that night.
Activism… it’s a balancing act between politics and family. It’s very hard sometimes. But the fact that it’s still a balancing act and not a scene of having nothing left to lose… is a luxury at this point. But as you said, it’s all about choices. I thought last night if I could follow orders to shoot a child… and I couldn’t.
My choice would be Leavenworth.
because we all still do have a choice because regardless we’re all still humans.
Thank you so much!
I would have to accompany you to Leavenworth also, Janet.
I think the juggling act you are involved in re: family and activism has to be one of the tougest gigs there is. You are a courageous women to take it on, and I admire you greatly.
You know by now I’m horrid with accepting compliments 🙂
But thanks. I’m not courageous. I’m just tired of the fighting and killing.
You spoke “above” of empowerment. You have no idea how much your request of a few of us in DC impacted me. Being there for you with a few others.
I’m sure that when a person is leaving their body… they must reflect back on periods in their life. Births of children, happy moments, life altering times.
Being there in DC at the Wall with my friends, for another friend… that’s one I’ll always reflect on and always will be one of the moments that changed me and my family for the better.
Thank you so much for that moment. It will be with me forever.
Courage can be defined in many ways.
To me courage means taking the the best of what is within us, and daring to put it into the world by how we choose to live and to act, in spite of the the risks it requires us to take.
I repeat. I believe you are a very couragsous woman.
And to know you and others like you were standing at that wall for my brother and for me was an honor I will never forget either.
Janet, it seems that often now people feel they have done something wrong if expressing another view, on this site, plus it’s causing a lot of hurt feelings with the name calling going on, which I just read again on the recent comments list.
I disagree with the current attitude of allowing this to go on, but a lot of good that does. I am about to exercise my ratings privileges on those who engage in this behaviour.
Be of good cheer Janet, and don’t let this get you down…..there are many of us out here who do not comment, often due to the climate, but we still read and we still support you and others who are doing this work.
Hugs>>>>
I don’t know which is hurts worse this minute, knowing that more children are being shot up, that the glaciers are melting… or knowing that friends are fighting friends. Friends that could be standing up together to stop the killings, the devastation.
I do know what’s worse… the killing and devastation so I guess we just continue on. There is so much work to be done and never enough to do it. Now more fragmentation… just means more work and more risk for fewer people.
(((Thanks Diane))) for your words because believe it or not, I do carry those words with me. Sometimes I’ll recall a post Dada made to me in a cafe, or a photo RubDMC posted in the Witness thread, or sometimes it’s a remembering a “4” from a name you’ve never seen before. I’m a big coward and so I use anything and everything I can to muster up the strength to go out. It’s silly, Iknow. But each word has an impact.
I think it might be an idea to turn the entire military in a Peace corp. and go about and help people and this planet to recover. Wouldn’t that be something.?
I know about carrying the words with one, words spoken to me many eons ago, still resonate within me, words that kept me alive and sane. Sometimes it hard to winnow the hateful words out, but it must be done for survival.
Speaking of global warming, I saw an interesting documentary this weekend, Tom Brokaw or some such commentator, anyway there were many hopeful things in it, such a New York City is doing much to aleviate dependence with oil, they have hybrid taxis and buses and many building are going green, plus much more. Seems to that many states and communities, plus businesses are going in this direction without the direction of government.
Also an oil company in Germany (I think) has put into place a system on drilling platforms to take the co2 and insert in back into the ground rather than into the atmosphere.
If only our government would wake up and see the opportunities for jobs and well being that attention to global warming would engender.
Also Janet if you have time go to Village Blue, there is much on the site to rest your soul.
Meanwhile, more hugs and love to you.
Thanks, Janet. Partly because I’m on the West Coast and keep eccentric hours, and because I don’t spend a lot of time here every day, I tend to be late responding.
I’m most surprised at those who haven’t been in the military who are willing to send people into war for any political aim, including the hope that this will help end the war. But I’ve learned to accept that there are always going to be the possibility of unpredictable difficulties between military or vets and non-vets, no matter how aligned politically, and I respect those differences, as I respect those people (generally).
If you’ve seen Maxine Hong Kingston’s book, THE FIFTH BOOK OF PEACE (you might like this book actually), in part of it she describes working with vets, teaching them meditation, etc. And eventually the group was able to reconcile with soldiers on the other side they fought against in Vietnam. A literal reunion wth some. But she could never get American vets to reconcile with American war protestors.
But you’ll be hard pressed to find more dedicated and effective antiwar advocates than ex-military. I’ve known some great ones. Most recently working for the G.I. Rights Hotline, counselling young soldiers–children–on their rights. These ex-soldiers know the system and know what these kids are up against. Those who have opened their hearts to antiwar activists who didn’t do military time are wonderful comrades. They know how to be comrades. Despite all the other bullshit, you could see that in John Kerry and his comrades.
I’m rambling. Thanks again.
I’ve written the books name down and will seek it out, thank you so much!
Yes, most that I have met and who have taught me the most are ex-military. Veterans for Peace are amazing and I feel so much love and admiration for them.
My husband now wears their button. He was able to meet with Lt. Watada and VFO and Iraq Veterans Against the War… and you’re right… the ones who are truly opposed to war are the ones who have had to fight them.
I’m on the West Coast, too. Portland Oregon. And FYI, you now have one more person on your list of friends 🙂
Thank you Scribe. I love the way you express yourself.
Of course when your heart and mind are open you are exposed to all who see you. It is a form of nakedness, but that’s the only way you can receive the beauty and truth of the world. Unfortunately, sometimes worse is given.
We all have our own version of what is beautiful and true – that’s the wonderful part of life. I think you and I share the same idea of America.
It’s a tremendous and a very brave essay you’ve written.
Bravo!
Many ought to do what you’re undertaking but they dare not.
>Many ought to do what you’re undertaking but they dare not.
In time, perhaps. It took me a very long time to be ready. The good news is, it doesn’t take younger poeple of today as long as it took some of us olders. I have a powerful grandaughter who, at 24, already sees 100 times more acurately than I could see at her age. Progress is not always visible for awhile. 🙂
And thank you.
Commander Scribe, please let me address you as this…;o) All I can say is bravo..again you have come to the front as a brave and courageous leader of Americans to admire you courage and forethought as to the reality of it all…Thank you for a brilliantly written piece for us all to remember on a daily basis…
There is nothing left to say that you have not already address in its entirety and done so very well. You are to be applauded.
I applaud everyone else as well for their heartfelt opinions.
hugs
US has NOT lived up to its promise. The Trail of Tears, the grab for land during the days they were building railroads, the claim jumpers, the land wars between cattlemen and sheep herders, the insanity in our treatment of women and children and disabled just to name a few instances. So what does America mean to us? I think it means promise. Evidently people cannot be perfect, we cannot live up to the promise, we fail and fail and fail. But every once in a while we surprise ourselves and go and do something great! And then sometimes we just do it half assed!
But if we can get to the moon, if we can collaborate on a space station, if we can create mathematicians who can get us out there then it is possible, just maybe possible, we can put our psyches on a higher plane.
But we cannot just do meaningless rituals, we cannot just recreate what went before. Every one of us have to relearn, rehash, rebuild and even more create anew in order to fullfill our promise and get to work fullfilling yet again America’s promise.