An Inauguration Invitation
copyright © 2009 Betsy L. Angert. BeThink.org I am asking you to believe, not just in my ability to bring about a real change in Washington, I'm asking you to believe in yours. The invitation arrived in an electronic mail. As much as America wishes to be hopeful, I had none. I saw the communiqué and thought it would not be possible. I would never be selected to attend the inauguration. Of all the millions who are moved by this historic occasion, while I am amongst these, my anecdote is and would be far less remarkable. My personal reflection on the Obama election, would not be tragic. Nor would any thought I might muse of move a reader to say, "Yes. She should be seated at the swearing in ceremony." Whatever I might communicate is certainly of little interest to most, if not all. Surely, the saga of a grandson, or grand-daughter, of a slave, one who worked as their ancestors had, might mesmerize more, or at least a legend such as this would enthrall me. Indeed, it did. Only yesterday, I saw and heard a film essay on James "Little Man" Presley. This steady man in Mississippi began his career when he was six [6.] On camera, this glorious gent recounted his reality of fifty years of work in the cotton fields. He shared his sorrow; as a Black man, he was barred from restaurants and royalties that might be awarded to a white man. "Little Man" Presley also presented his pleasure.
~ Barack Obama
Once again, as I stood blubbering, I bemoaned what I had faith I had no right to feel. Regrettably, I would not be able to attend the official observance. The installation of Barack Obama into the Oval Office would be one I would miss. It was true; my yarn could not compare to the composition an elderly man or woman, coal in color, might submit. Some of these individuals never felt their tally counted. For many, it did not; not until the Voters Rights Act 1965 was passed into law. Yes, a request for my narrative could not negate the truth of my tale; it was nothing in contrast to what others might tell. My complexion had always made me more privileged and that is wrong.
To my core I felt and continue to feel if the new Administration offers free transportation and tickets to the event, they should not be given to me.
I had never, through my actions, given up on the country I love. I had no reason to. Granted, I frequently felt there was no hope for my homeland. However, these moments were fleeting. Prejudice did not permeate my very existence. Nor did bigotry shade my second-by-second experience. Every thought I might express was not filtered through a truth I could never forget, for I was not dark as pitch. I did not realize repercussions for nothing more than my race.
I am an activist. My current age does not make my participation worthy of note, at least not in the year 2008, or 2009. I am one of millions. Four or perhaps more will readily appear in the Capital Mall in Washington, District of Columbia. Almost all will reach the destination without assistance from the Obama Administration. Why should I not do the same?
For me, without tickets, which I vigorously tried to obtain through conventional means, I would not truly be part of this momentous occasion. I would be disengaged, detached from the essence that bonds me and helped me to believe. I imagine as one in a crowd of countless, all I would see would be projected onto a screen. I would feel separate, not equal to those more worthy of the honor of an invitation.
Surely, the historic significance would be not be as I hoped. Were I to go, as a one amongst the masses might, I would grapple with what has long haunted me. I would not feel as connected to what means so much to me.
Hence, each time the invitation appeared in my mailbox, the opportunity to pen my prose, to state why this inauguration was so very important to me, I submitted what I knew was not enough, not special, and not unique.
Each time, I did not request what I hoped for, in many ways, more so than accommodations to the services. My dream was not to merely be welcomed to the Capitol. I wanted to find what was, and still is lost to me. The people I think of as parents, biological proxy to me. My desire was the President Elect and his staff might make a personal dream come true. Thus, I engraved and placed into the ethereal Internet for weeks.
I know not how to best express what this inauguration means to me. Attendance at the investiture would be the fulfillment of a dream, a desire to return the love that was given to me. Perchance, a bit of historical context might help to explain why this occasion moves me. My beginnings were not humble. Some might say that my childhood was filled with hurt. However, for me, the circumstances were joyous.
My parents had been together for years. They prospered financially. Yet, as a family they were disconnected. My birth was accidental and a source of anything but delight. It was decided another person, and her family would raise me. Mary [Hazel] Washington, and her husband, Arthur, thankfully took me into a world that was not my own. I became the white child who was far more accepted in a Black world, than she was in her own Caucasian community. My complexion was light as was my heart when with the persons who truly cared for me.
Later, at an age younger than Natasha Obama currently is, I witnessed an extraordinary event. My natural mother and father were home, together, in my presence. The two had grown farther apart in my five years on Earth. As they spoke of the 1960 election, they argued. The conversation was animated, more so than any I had heard in the past. My Mom, the ultimate Progressive mentioned she would not vote for the Republican candidate, register in the Grand Old Party; nor would she lie to the man whose bloodline I share and say she had. I was intrigued and remained so forever.
The two, Mommy, and her husband whose home I lived in, but rarely saw, and never really knew, divorced. However, sadly, the Washington's exited. Much occurred in the time of transition. Mary and Arthur had reason to believe they were no longer needed. Oh, what they did not know was how wanted they were, how honored I was to be raised in their world.
The people who did not reject me, taught me to trust. Mary mentored me in empathy. Arthur, her spouse, and their offspring, through their actions, helped me to understand the principle, love thy fellow man.
I never forgot how safe and sane I felt when with what felt to be my family, the persons who served as my surrogate parents. I could not have had a better home, more love, or been as welcome as I was in the neighborhood where residents did not appear as I did. At the age of eleven or twelve, I had an opportunity, the first of many, to stand up for the rights of the people who gave me more than a physical presence in the world. I marched for equality, civil rights for all. With Civil Rights leader Father Groppi, in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, I was among the many who said and sung, "Set my people free."
As I aged, I searched for Mary [Hazel] and Arthur Washington. While I never located the couple who bestowed upon me the freedom that comes with acceptance, as a politically active person, particularly in the 2008 election year, I saw them frequently. The Washington's were within me each time I made a telephone call in support of Barack Obama. My mother and father, brownish-purple in hue, were with me as I waved banners for a President Elect Obama. Mary and Arthur drove to rallies, spoke to relatives. The two were close at hand when I registered voters.
My hope is that if I am able to find my way to the inauguration, Mary [Hazel] and Arthur Washington will know that with thanks to them, "Yes, we can," and indeed, "We did achieve a dream!"
Mary [Hazel], Arthur, and sons, Arthur Junior and oh, how I wish I recalled the name of the younger, if you read this, please, please, please, get in touch with me. For as long as I recall, I have, from time to time, searched telephone books, cyberspace communities, asked relatives, sought some clue of where you might be. I wanted, I yearn for you to know what as a five and one half year old I could not, did not know how to share. You, your kindness, commitment to my well-being, the care you bestowed upon me has forever meant more to me than mere words.
I speak of each of you, your family, even when my mouth is closed. Who you are exudes from my every pore. So much of what I think, say, do, feel, and am, at least all that I treasure of me, is with thanks to each of you. Mary, I know my parents rejected what seemed the perfect reason to name me Hazel, your given name, as you requested. Nonetheless, please trust that while you and I may not share a moniker, for me, we share sooooo much more.
I thank you for being my first and best teacher. You are a mentor, one that money cannot buy. If I have any hope in 2009, it is that perchance, one day, you and I will meet. I wish to do more than merely greet you with a smile. Even from afar, I will, as I have, embrace the being that is you, and express my sincere gratitude for the being you helped me to become.
The Washington family, this is my Inauguration Invitation to you. May we begin to bring hope for a renewed future alive.
Hugs, kisses, and references for other realities . . .
- Crossing the railroad tracks amid a new time in history, By Wayne Drash. Cable News Network. January 12, 2009
- Introduction To Federal Voting Rights Laws. United States Department of Justice.
- Can Mall Be Filled For an Inauguration? 4 Million May Try It. By Nikita Stewart and Michael E. Ruane. Washington Post. Tuesday, November 18, 2008; A01
Posted by Betsy L. Angert on January 11, 2009 at 11:00 PM in Activism, American Dream, American Patriotism, Americana, Being Black in America, Looking at Life, Personal, Racial Discrimination | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Slackers Uprising; Free Speech and Download
copyright © 2008 Betsy L. Angert. BeThink.org
Today, you, dear reader, can do as no one has done before. Any of us in North America can view the full version of Slackers Uprising is now available for free to all residents of the United States and Canada. In the land of liberty, please take some. Be bold; be brave. Prepare to find reasons to partake in the democratic process. Get ready to click for a film, or cast a ballot for the next President of the United States.
The hype may heighten; still there is work to be done.
Americans already confident that their chosen candidate will win the Presidential election, may wish to assess what happens quickly. People are fickle. A voter can vacillate. Someone may say they will cast a ballot for one candidate or the other. However, when a constituent finally places pen to paper, punches a card, pulls a lever, or touches a computer screen, one never knows what that person will ultimately do. No matter what any individual tells a pollster, every citizen must remember, people change their minds.
The only certainty is the notion nothing is constant. Each of us must recall, how capricious any human being can be and how imprecise public opinion polls are. Even election results can be other than they appear to be. When humans are involved, anything can happen.
People are emotional, not necessarily rational. Constituencies are more easily swayed than we might imagine or wish to believe. We each may justify, intellectualize, and seem resolute. Indeed, every being is strong. Men and women are strong-willed. If the public harnesses this vigor, we, the people will have the power to change the county.
If as a united force, the populace is to transform America, every one of us must honor the reality; we cannot know what others will do. In truth, no one can predict what they themselves might act upon or achieve. Nor can any of us forecast or foresee the outcome of an election.
Michael Moore experienced this veracity four long years ago. It is for this reason the filmmaker hopes to get the vote out and ensure awareness. Every moment matters. From now until November 5, 2008, the evening after the ballots are counted, the public must not underestimate the effect of a word, deed, or thought not shared.
Until the tally is complete, the American people cannot assume a Presidential hopeful will win. It is up to us, each citizen of this country, to preserve, protect, and defend our Constitutional right. We can choose a person[s] to Represent us well, or not. The slackers can rise up and roar. People only need be a citizen who is interested in the quality of their life.
The connection to everyday excellence and country is evident or can be if individuals climb off the couch, get up from the chair, exit the car and consider the power people united have. A listless sole can seek influence, and find it at the polls. Slackers can arise, register to vote, cast a ballot, and create the change they wish to see.
Please ponder the history Michael Moore presents. We can learn lessons from the past.
Share the story with friends and family. Find the will and the way to work for your future, our future. Please, if you have been a slacker in an earlier time, reflect as you view the narrative. Then, if you would, rise up. Be eager, enthusiastic, an active member of the electorate. Perchance, your energy will excite a friend or someone in your family. Let us each participate in the selection of our President.
Collectively we can come together and unite the states. We, each and every one of us can make this country great again. Lazybones, ascend. Loafers, now is the time to lead this nation from the temptation of apathy. Please get out the vote! Stand strong and submit your ballot.
The Slacker Uprising Collectors Edition DVD features the full movie and lots of extras, such as:
Get the DVD for $9.95
This is being done entirely as a gift to my fans. The only return any of us are hoping for is the largest turnout of young voters ever at the polls in November."
~ Michael Moore
Posted by Betsy L. Angert on September 23, 2008 at 12:00 AM in Activism, American Patriotism, Americana, Civics, Communities, Elections, Political Campaigns, Politics, Presidential Politics | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Slackers Uprising and Uproar
copyright © 2008 Betsy L. Angert. BeThink.org
Big businesses try to silence them, and these influential institutions succeed. Brazen persons, abundantly affluent, and government officials, content with the status quo also wish to secure the stillness. The hush from the hordes of those who do not vote does not disturb those who are well off. Undeniably, the quiet of millions calms those who want only the few and proud to vote. Hundreds of thousands of Americans are seemingly apathetic. Many of those who actively participate in elections are grateful.
Some might say the young, the disenfranchised, or the everyday average citizen does not care. Indeed, most feel as though they have no power. Half of the public, are not counted as constituents for they do not vote. Many have not bothered to register. Those who did file the proper papers do not appear at the polls on Election Day. Nor do they cast an absentee ballot. Throughout this country, people have no faith that they can change the system.
Several say, "You cannot fight City Hall; nor can one little person affect what Congress does." Certainly, these persons believe they will not choose the President of the United States. Politics is a game. The machine is fixed, and not in favor of the grunt, the peon, or the poor people who do the labor. What is, sadly, for those with less time, currency, or clout will persist. What will be, will be, fortunately for those with large fortunes.
Individuals who do not participate in the electoral process may appear to be slackers. Yet, in truth most of these persons feel uninspired. More than a few feel as if they are in dire straits. Indeed, they are.
The billions of dollars banks and industry borrow from the Federal government are not available to Anne or Adam. No one will bail out the citizen whose taxes are the cash poured into poorly managed financial firms. If a single solitary citizen wishes to go to college, he or she cannot turn to Uncle Sam and say please subsidize me, support me in my endeavors. However, General Motors and other carmakers can and do. Insurance companies also have leverage. Those they indemnify do not.
For the poor, pupils of America, and the persons who squeak by, day by day, no paycheck provides prosperity. Frustrated and forlorn these individuals turn inward. They feel no sense of hope. The fear of failure looms large in the future of the persons who have given up on government.
Enter Michael Moore. This filmmaker and activist promises soup and noodles a plenty. All he asks for is a vote, not for him, but for we, the people. Yet, a movement away from soup kitchens and towards Top Ramen threatens the dominant, the determined, and the persons in power. The Michigan, Grand Old Party filed charges against Director Moore for bribery. Pasta is apparently quite the bounty. Republicans rant; Michael Moore illegally offered underwear in exchange for votes. Imagine, clothing that covers a bare behind is objectionable. Yet, cash that cloaks bankrupt businesses, which robbed from the impoverished is acceptable.
With a guaranteed government intervention, these virtual monopolies will steal from the masses again. Levies collected from the little people will protect conglomerates from the storm they themselves created. Yet, the powerless people will have to endure the tempest. Why might near half the American public not bother to register or vote? Pray tell. Perchance, average Americans have seen what occurs when someone such as Michael Moore stands up in support of justice for all.
Those who have the will and the way to undermine the endeavor of wrongdoer Moore have established the filmmaker is a villain, a desperado of sorts. This bandit with bandwidth works outside the law, or at least the restrictions imposed by the "right." Michael Moore has a criminal profile. His offense? Michael Moore works to inform the public. The documentary film movie producer wants the people, the average American, Anne, and Adam to cast an educated ballot. Mister Moore hopes people will choose for themselves who they wish to place in the White House.
That transgression is troublesome to those who wish to sustain the silence and retain the rule. The wealthy desire to deter the workers. Efforts to restrain the rants or rage from the common folk are rampant.
Michael Moore may not fight back with mechanized weapons; he offers words and invites your wisdom. Dearest prospective voter, please read on. Discover the purpose of the film Slackers Uprising. Consider the profit, the potential, and the power you have. Then, decide for yourself. Does Michael Moore buy your ballot or allow you to think and act as a citizen free to be an active, influential American.
Neither Moore nor Brave New Films will make any money from the film, which had a budget of over $2 million. "This is being done entirely as a gift to my fans," said Moore. "The only return any of us are hoping for is the largest turnout of young voters ever at the polls in November. I think 'Slacker Uprising' will inspire million to get off the couch and give voting a chance."“Our mission here at Brave New Films is to get out a message of social justice,” said Greenwald. “This year , that means getting people to take a close look at what’s at stake in this incredibly important election. You can find literally no better storyteller in the world for that purpose than Michael Moore. Michael is a genius and an inspiration to people all over the country. This new movie is a gift to our country in this critical moment, and we’re honored to be distributing it for free over the internet.”
Dear reader, please view the video. Receive a free download in days. Without obligation, spread the word, or be a slacker if you choose. Michael Moore and this author will not file charges against you. We are with you. We share your aggravation. That is the reason Filmmaker Moore and the person who penned this prose hope to get out the vote. You, sweet seeker of knowledge are the change Michael Moore, New Brave Films, and I believe in.
Sources of Scorn and a Slackers Uprising . . .
Posted by Betsy L. Angert on September 16, 2008 at 01:00 PM in Activism, Elections, Political Campaigns, Politics, Presidential Politics, Voter Apathy, Voters Speak | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Netroots Nation 2008; A Dream Realized
copyright © 2008 Betsy L. Angert. BeThink.org
Welcome Home Netroots Nation attendees. You may recall, it began with a dream, an impossible hope for a future unforeseen. It was your wish, his want, her desire, and my aspiration. Together we were the inspiration. We imagined greatness would be if we worked together. The issues of import to us were and continue to be the Environment, Education, Energy, Ethics, Wars in the Middle East, the Persian Gulf, and of course Peace. Health Care, and the fragile nature of medical coverage in the United States, does not escape our gaze. While we may embrace Free Enterprise, we are not ignorant of the inherent flaws within a system that rewards the rich and punishes the poor. The Courts, and Congress do not escape our scrutiny. Those of us who are far from apathetic examine the Executive Branch of government as well. Indeed, citizens that actively care inquire of and study every subject, deeply.
We, the vibrantly engaged people believe prosperity for all is a real possibility. Power, we trust does not reside within the halls of Congress, or corporate chambers. Nor is it found in the Oval Office. ,Rather the strengthen to bring about change is embodied within us.. When we came together and communicated, we created a net that grows from the roots. As a whole, we are a nation of thinkers, doers, and dynamic. We are determined to attain the incredible, just as our forefathers intended. We, the people who participate in endless discussions of what is, could be, would be, and work to ensure that the beauty of America is as was proposed hold dear the original declaration of independent believers
We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. — That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, — That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness.
The words of our ancestors resonate within us. Hence, just as the authors of this glorious creed did hundreds of years earlier, we met to discuss what we might do. Initially, we became acquainted in a community of computers. Then, we moved closer together in conferences, online and ultimately outside our homes. We may have met three years earlier at the first Yearly Kos, or two months prior as we passed through an essay. It matters not when we introduced ourselves to each other.
You gave rise to his verve. He encouraged her to trust. She buoyed my beliefs. Together we, each one of us, energized a nation. The topics we spoke of titillated, tantalized; others thought these subjects were taboo. Yet, for us, politics was personal. Religion was real. For us, the vocal few, faith is found everywhere, not merely in a house of worship.
We, the wondrous ones, willing to participate in profundity, cared to discuss what we thought crucial. Education, the curriculum, what our children learn, and teachers teach, reaches far beyond the classroom. We yearn for a healthy happy community, just as our forefathers did when they wrote the United States Constitution.
Perchance, that is why we consider the law. We understand that essential freedoms must be retained. For us, an awareness exists, if Americans are to be safe and secure, we must be able to express ourselves, particularly in private. Those of us who talk of the taboos rather than blindly trust concur; we are not able to feel as though our life is our own, if we do not live a liberated life within reason, an inherent right to happiness will not be realized. Contentment comes when we, within the greater community care for our brethren.
Perhaps, this knowledge prompts us to share stories of our experiences with the health care system. We have learned to consider the complexity of how, where, if, or when we will receive treatment. Chatters in cyberspace also ponder those who are denied a cure. We, the people within the net neighborhood broach what hurts the hearts of those who do not verbally venture into the realities that preclude a more solid union.
In America, more than a few have died needlessly due to medical glitches and Insurers hitches. That is the reason, unlike many, we do tell tales of woe. We acknowledge that those with medical coverage could lose the medical plans that provide a false sense of security, in an instant, indeed, retroactively. Those within the net neighborhood run, skip, walk, and crawl away from computers to aid the ailing. Advocates in the blogosphere take action to correct a structure wrought with corruption. Our desire to delve expands our horizons.
The common folks from throughout the land, when in cyberspace, chatter of health care and how the notion cannot exist as long as medical coverage is inaccessible or too easy rescinded buy "providers."
Food for us is more than an ingestible. Fodder, we realize, has an effect on our bodies, the environment, and our evolution. A cuisine, when commercially produced, can be a source of contaminants to man and beast, and we are not afraid to say so. Oh, there is much that those in the worldwide web talk of and take on. Problems are but a paradigm, and shifts are sustenance. In the Internet neighborhood, silence is the only enemy.
Those who address the unspeakable, discuss sex. You, he, she, and I give voice to the words often whispered; physical intimacy is a not a sin and lust does not give birth to closeness. Out in the open we speak of the significance of marriage, and not just the ceremony or the legal license issued. It was you, he, she, me, and we, who understood that love is not limited. Each of us trusted, our gender did not restrict the fondness we feel. Emotionally, we work to be intelligent and just, fair, people who honor reverent freedoms. We are Progressives and proud to care for our fellow man.
We know ethics cannot be ethereal if we are to achieve a greater good. Profound principles are essential if we, the people are to truly unite as one, and this week we did. In July 2008, in Austin, Texas, bloggers beamed with delight as we entered a new era. On Thursday, the 17th through Sunday the 20th politicians, pundits, professionals, and people from all walks of life joined forces and followed what was no longer a whimsy. Careful, thoughtful, honorable change came and united each of us. Together, we moved forward. More than two thousand strong showed they are committed to countless causes. As a nation rooted in the Net, individually and as a whole, we thrust towards a venerable transformation. There we were, Americans returned to the roots the founders provided.
Netroots Nation, we have grown. Our influence increases. As long as we continue to believe and act, no matter our differences, we can achieve the excellence envisioned. Yesterday, today, and tomorrow, let us all remember . . .
(W)hen a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security.
Let this thought be our guide when next we meet. Until then, please register for the next Continental Constitutional Cyberspace Conference, Netroots Nation 2009. Until August 13, 2009, in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, may we look forward to our Internet interactions.
A Byte of Information . . .
- Netroots Nation
- The Online Candidate Confronts Critical Netroots, By Katharine Q. Seelye. The New York Times. July 16, 2008
- Appealing to Bloggers’ Influence, Gore Asks for Help in Promoting Energy Challenge, By Katharine Q. Seelye. The New York Times. July 20, 2008
- The Next President and the Law, Netroots Nation 2008
- Time for Action: How the Netroots Can Lead on Healthcare Reform, Netroots Nation 2008
- The Recipe for Change in America's Food System, Netroots Nation 2008
- Breaking the Frame: Revitalizing and Redefining Reproductive Rights Media Coverage, Netroots Nation 2008
- Whatever Happened to the Religious Left? Netroots Nation 2008
- Politically Active Youth on Political Participation and Civic Education: What They Have to Teach Us, Netroots Nation 2008
- Declaration of Independence. USHistory.org.
- Netroots Nation Registration.
Posted by Betsy L. Angert on July 20, 2008 at 11:00 PM in Activism, Bloggers Unite, Communities, Communities and Communication , Daily Kos | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack
International Affairs Budget; Billions Could Be Cut
copyright © 2008 Betsy L. Angert. BeThink.org
Just as Romans in an arena, Americans love a good fight. Citizens of this country voice their pleasure as they witness the battle. Nationwide, we watch look for blood as we advocate for peace in the Middle East. Hillary Clinton has pulled ahead in some political polls. The public, like the Romans have no empathy for the victim of merciless attacks. Protests against the brutality, is as inconceivable today as it was in ancient time. In 2008, people are as they were centuries ago, anxious for more atrocities. Worldwide, people in dire need die, and Americans are busily, happily distracted by the political competitions.
Talk of unity today is as red meat to a hungry beast. An "attractive" offering such as a Clinton/Obama ticket is meant to entice the few who are tired, the many who are tempted to follow in the footsteps of a very persuasive former President, or those who have lost their way in a tempest known as publicity.
The games continue. The Gladiators rage on. Unity in the United States does not seem a possibility. While eyes are on the political prize Americans forget or do not see the threat on the near horizon. In seven [7] days, without action from the public, the Senate may cut $4 [four] Billion dollars from the President's 2009 International Affairs budget. This money helps to provide most of the poverty-fighting funds.
The International Affairs budget (also referred to as Function 150 of the Federal budget) provides the funding to carry out U.S. foreign policy. This funding supports the worldwide operations of the Department of State, maintaining effective American representation at embassies and posts in foreign countries, as well as the operations of the U.S. Agency for International Development. This funding also supports a broad array of foreign assistance programs and other U.S. Government activities to achieve foreign policy priorities. The formulation and implementation of funding requests are closely related to the Department's and USAID's planning and performance process.
If the dollars disappear so too would many of the millions of people throughout the globe who are working their way out of extreme poverty with America's help. Do citizens in a country where most are well-fed and cared for wish to further devastate those who are barely able to survive. Would we wish to watch as our fellow man falls?
If you do not wish to be as the ancient Romans ready for the kill, please join your fellow citizens at One.org Please read and reflect on what might occur without our attention. Please consider . . .
While the presidential candidates were responding to your pressure and announcing their plans to visit Africa, Congress was putting together the 2009 budget. And the numbers don't look good.As it stands today, the Senate is considering a $4 billion cut from the president's 2009 international affairs budget. What's most shocking is that this would represent a cut of $1 billion from this year's funding, a huge loss at a time when we are poised to do so much to combat extreme poverty and global disease. Slashing this funding would be simply devastating to people like those surviving HIV/AIDS, malaria, tuberculosis thanks in part to the help America provides.
Thankfully, we're not the only ones who've noticed the problem, and Senators Richard Durbin (D-IL) and Gordon Smith (R-OR) have introduced an amendment to restore $2.6 billion to the international affairs budget, to match the House of Representatives funding level.
Here is where we come in. We only have one week to get the majority of the Senate to support this effort. It's up to us to take action and make sure that our Senators pass a budget that reflects our values. So we're launching a petition asking the Senate to support this amendment:
You can add your name here:
http://www.one.org/2009budget/o.pl?id=254-3723617-V2LYtE&t=2
No one would wish to sign an appeal without full knowledge of the text. Rather than trust a brief, please review the request. Then, decide what you wish to do. After all, you are your best advisor and the only one who can speak for you.
Petition text:
In the great American tradition of helping others help themselves, we, the undersigned, ask that the U.S. Senate pass the Durbin-Smith amendment to restore $2.6 billion to the international affairs budget.Increasing the size of the international affairs budget is vital to increasing the amount the U.S. gives to poverty-focused development assistance. The international affairs budget funds all the proven solutions that we call for time and again: lifesaving AIDS medications, basic education, access to clean water, and many more programs helping people work their way out of poverty.
If would like to ensure that poor persons throughout the planet have opportunities they may not have without the plans already in place, then you may wish to submit your signature.
To save these programs, we've set an aggressive goal of gathering 60,000 signatures before we deliver the petition to every senator next week. Please add your name:
http://www.one.org/2009budget/o.pl?id=254-3723617-V2LYtE&t=3
People you may never meet in person, need you to believe in the power of unity. Humanity cannot survive if we do not care for our brethren. If our brother bleeds we may not witness his wounds or the see him hemorrhage. Nonetheless, we will experience his pain, for we are one.
He experiences himself, his thoughts, and feeling as something separated from the rest, a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty.
~ Albert Einstein [Physicist]
The life I touch for good or ill will touch another life, and that in turn another,
until who knows where the trembling stops or in what far place my touch will be felt.
~ Frederick Buechner [Presbyterian Minister and American Author]
Sources . . .
Posted by Betsy L. Angert on March 8, 2008 at 08:03 AM in Activism | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Peace Protester Meets Military Men; Perceptions or Promise
copyright © 2007 Betsy L. Angert. BeThink.org
This morning, as I approached the peace corner, two of my fellow demonstrators made mention of the soldiers across the street. Weekly, a throng of Iraq war dissenters stands and pickets on the south side of the street. I position myself on the North end of the avenue. I stand alone. On this afternoon, two young men dressed in Army fatigues, soldiers, situated themselves on the median, yards from where I position myself. They carried plastic bins; patriotic banners were pasted onto these containers. American flags and pamphlets graced their station. The military men collected money from passers-by. They distributed literature. They did their work from the same side of the street I favor.
My comrades in peace and protest were concerned. Perhaps I would not wish to cross over into the abyss of possible confrontations or conflict of interest. I glanced over at the diligent warrior and decided they were as I, people that long for peace. I quickly gathered my sign, pressed the button on the traffic pole, and waited until it was safe to enter the intersection. Cars are my enemy. These fast moving vehicles are, in my mind Weapons of Mass Destruction. People, no matter their attire or philosophical views are not my foes.
Minutes after I took my characteristic stance, held up my sign "Love, Not War" and extended my forefinger and central digit to form the symbol universally acknowledged as "peace" one of the soldiers smiled at me. He faced me and flashed the same sign. Yes, we were on the same side of the street and the issue. Neither of us wants war. We work to bring harmony to a world wrought with distress. The serviceman and I each yearn for global calm.
Throughout the afternoon, I pondered what people might think a dichotomy. I wondered why other picketers thought there might be a problem with my being so near these troops. I reflected; what might those in their automobiles think. Was it likely those in cars would think to wave in appreciation of me was to defy the intent of the military volunteers, or might the travelers consider each of us, soldiers and myself, as joined forces. I observed various notions. I also accepted that some voyagers would see only what they wished to believe, or perhaps we all do.
We may walk down different philosophical paths; yet, I cannot help but believe we are one. We stroll in synch on the same side of a single street.
Days ago, Americans honored our war veterans. On that hallowed occasion, I wept as I thought of all the soldiers that passed. I mourned for those who would die on the battlefields abroad. Grief consumes me as I contemplate those who will take their last breath in transit. I feel such sorrow when I gaze upon a soldier some think fortunate enough to survive. I understand that many have lost the will to live. Those that made the trek and stand strong often tell tales. The war is alive and well within them, frequently for years, even if they appear settled, safe, and secure.
I might muse as many do, "I support the soldiers." However, I understand how trite, contrite, contrived such a claim might sounds, particularly to those that put their lives in on the line, the front line, in the face of great peril as they fight for America's freedoms.
I have infinite faith that each man or woman alive believes in the ethics of their actions, or on the rare occasion that any of us is reactive and engages in the unthinkable, we work to rationalize what we did. Sadly, frequently, we cannot. I have met many a soldier that speaks of how the mission was not what he or she thought it might be. I am familiar with numerous others that, long after, they return home from battle, still believe the cause was just. As I watch these two men collect funds for the fight, for families of the fallen, I wonder; what was and is their experience.
I look over and once more, I am greeted with a smile, a wave, and an acknowledgement that the three of us yearn for world peace. Ah, to be human is to love thy fellow man, and to fight?
Some say aggression is natural. Man by his very nature is combative. Others are certain confrontational behaviors are learned. No matter what we believe, every individual has to grapple with the fact that we are creatures of the Earth, complex, and difficult to understand. However, I believe no one truly wants war or wishes to kill another. Some say they think mass slaughter is an option; however, faced with the possibility, none of us is left unscathed.
Perception, passion, human emotions frequently give rise to errors, crimes against man and nature. People are easily persuaded, pushed, become fearful, and are filled with angst. Each can cause individuals to act against their best judgment or interest. I perpend the soldiers on the Boulevard and reflect. What is their reality. As we exchange glances and consistently acknowledge the other, I trust neither would have said . . .
"I came over here because I wanted to kill people."
By Andrew Tilghman
Washington Post.
Sunday, July 30, 2006; B01" I came over here because I wanted to kill people."
Over a mess-tent dinner of turkey cutlets, the bony-faced 21-year-old private from West Texas looked right at me as he talked about killing Iraqis with casual indifference. It was February, and we were at his small patrol base about 20 miles south of Baghdad. "The truth is, it wasn't all I thought it was cracked up to be. I mean, I thought killing somebody would be this life-changing experience. And then I did it, and I was like, 'All right, whatever.'"
He shrugged.
"I shot a guy who wouldn't stop when we were out at a traffic checkpoint and it was like nothing," he went on. "Over here, killing people is like squashing an ant. I mean, you kill somebody and it's like 'All right, let's go get some pizza.'"
As I read these words, I feel a palpable bravado. The boldness expressed for me is that of a man that felt so deeply, he wanted to feel no more. Months after Private Steven D. Green made this statement, he stood outside a federal courthouse in North Carolina. There he pled 'not guilty' to charges of premeditated rape and murder. Private Green was accused of these crimes. In Mahmudiyah, a fourteen-year-old Iraqi girl and her family fell victim to war and the emotions evoked by such a brutal practice.
Andrew Tilghman, embedded Journalist with the Washington Post wrote of his encounter with Steven D. Green and the tale the young serviceman told prior to his crime. The account was harrowing.
Tilghman describes the circumstances and situation. The correspondent explains he met Private Green in Mahmudiyah, on the edge of the zone known as "The Triangle of Death." It was there that the reporter realized the fear, foreboding of the frontlines. Andrew Tilghman remembers the unrelenting knot death and destruction left in his stomach. He recalls the low morale, the stories of fire, ambush, and the loss of innocence many soldiers and commanders expressed.
The columnist recounts a narrative. The company commander in charge of Green's unit said of himself, he "almost had a nervous breakdown." This trained, experienced, hardened officer was confined to a hotel-style compound in Baghdad for three days of "freedom rest." Without this time away he could not resume his command.
Yet, the journalist notes, he experienced extraordinary camaraderie among the soldiers in Mahmudiyah. Tilghman states, "They were among the friendliest troops I met in Iraq." These troops had been through much together. Washington Post Andrew Tilghman inscribes . . .
When I met Green, I knew nothing about his background -- his troubled youth and family life, his apparent problems with drugs and alcohol, his petty criminal record. I just saw and heard a blunt-talking kid. Now that I know the charges against Green, his words take on an utterly different context for me. But when I met him then, his comments didn't seem nearly as chilling as they do now . . .Green was one of several soldiers I sat down with in the chow hall one night not long after my arrival. We talked over dinner served on cardboard trays. I asked them how it was going out there, and to tell me about some of their most harrowing moments. When they began talking about the December death of Sgt. Kenith Casica, my interview zeroed in on Green.
He described how after an attack on their traffic checkpoint, he and several others pushed one wounded man into the back seat of a Humvee and put Casica, who had a bullet wound in his throat, on the truck's hood. Green flung himself across Casica to keep the dying soldier from falling off as they sped back to the base.
"We were going, like, 55 miles an hour and I was hanging on to him. I was like, 'Sgt. Casica, Sgt. Casica.' He just moved his eyes a little bit," Green related with a breezy candor. "I was just laying on top of him, listening to him breathing, telling him he's okay. I was rubbing his chest. I was looking at the tattoo on his arm. He had his little girl's name tattooed on his arm.
"I was just talking to him. Listening to his heartbeat. It was weird -- I drooled on him a little bit and I was, like, wiping it off. It's weird that I was worried about stupid [expletive] like that.
"Then I heard him stop breathing," Green said. "We got back and everyone was like, 'Oh [expletive], get him off the truck.' But I knew he was dead. You could look in his eyes and there wasn't nothing in his eyes. I knew what was going on there."
He paused and looked away. "He was the nicest man I ever met," he said. "I never saw him yell at anybody. That was the worst time, that was my worst time since I've been in Iraq."
At the time, Private green had served only four months of a one-year stint. He was resigned to a life that recruiters do not speak of. Servicemen and women intent on signing up young enlistees focus on the best of what we would all wish to believe. The military will train enlistees to do a job. The service will provide security. There is money for college, ample adventures, and a well-disciplined community will help to establish leadership skills.
All that may be true. However, there is a price to pay. The cost of engagement in a cold, cruel war, may be too high. Five months before he brutally sexually assaulted a young woman and slaughtered her and her family Private Steven D. Green said . . .
"I gotta be here for a year and there ain't [expletive] I can do about it," he said. "I just want to go home alive. I don't give a [expletive] about the whole Iraq thing. I don't care."See, this war is different from all the ones that our fathers and grandfathers fought. Those wars were for something. This war is for nothing."
Private Green, the soldiers that stood across the street from me, and I may not agree completely. We may differ on the broader construct of combat. Nonetheless, it seems to me, those that served in Iraq, those that expect to ship out, military men and women that saw war firsthand in years past, and I each concede war is not wonderful. It does not bring out the best in people. To kill or be killed is not a quest anyone pursues with love or intent.
Private Steven D. Green reflects and expresses his frustration with the Army brass. Green cries out as he contemplates the calls for caution. He states, soldiers are ordered to be prudent, exercise vigilance, even in the most horrific, dreadful, and grave circumstances. The Private ponders when your life is threatened you are commanded to remain calm.
"We're out here getting attacked all the time and we're in trouble when somebody accidentally gets shot?" he said, referring to infantrymen like himself throughout Iraq. "We're pawns for the [expletive] politicians, for people that don't give a [expletive] about us and don't know anything about what it's like to be out here on the line."
Major General Smedley Darlington Butler, in his book published in 1935 wrote, "War is a racket." The two-time Medal of Honor winner continued, "It has always been." The General would find no fault with the assessment Green makes.
Wars are rarely fought for the reasons that are claimed. Those reasons amount to nothing more than bogus excuses, ways to hoodwink the gullible public, and the vilest propaganda designed to incite people to sacrifice their children for a supposedly glorious cause.The defense of freedom and democracy is one false claim that we often hear in this country. This shameful claim could not be further from the truth.
No one ever bothers to explain how our freedom and democracy are at risk in some obscure little country halfway around the world. That's because the sad and dirty truth is that wars are fought for empire and the financial gain of the few.
I yearn for peace planet wide and I continue to do all that I might to ensure global harmony. Each weekend, I take to the streets to protest the war, just as I did today. The pilgrimage began years ago, before the first bomb struck the ground in Iraq or Afghanistan. Since then much to my chagrin, many innocents, soldier, and civilians have died, all in the name of terrorism. Americans, allied forces, and citizens of the Middle East. It is a challenge for me to understand; who is the fanatic, the foe, the revolutionary, or the rebel. I know not who fights for freedom and democracy, who occupies, or who liberates. For me, if we resort to killing we are as savages. War and combat are incomprehensible to me. Yet, I long to understand.
~ Thomas Edison [Scientist, Inventor]
Soldiers on active duty and off, also struggle to grasp the greater significance. Some warriors resent persons such as I, or what they believe to be my intention, my presumed purpose, or me. Just as those at the peace protest thought the soldiers on the calm city street in America might approach me with resentment or judgment, some of the troops feel support expressed by dissenters is shallow. Five Iraq War veterans spoke of their return to American life to editors of The New York Times.
Q: Are we mature enough as a country to thank those who risk their lives on our behalf while voicing our outrage at the actions of the politicians who put them in harm’s way?Michael Jernigan: To people who support the troops but not the war — that is your right. But remember there was someone holding a gun who fought so you can have that right. It is tough for me to smile when someone tells me that they support our troops but feel the war is wrong. I stand there and smile and say, “Thank you for sharing your feelings.” I think people say that because it makes them feel better to say it, but they really mean, “Thank you for your service, but really you are an idiot for following that insane president.” It makes me feel belittled. I do not want to hear it. I was a corporal in the United States Marine Corps and I do not make policy so save it for your congressman.
Perception is the truest reality and I believe it is the reason we war. I could have surmised that the soldiers were warmongers, fighters, aggressors, ready to attack and antagonize me. However, that conclusion would be contrary to my basic belief: people are good. I have faith, in the human form, we each error. Emotions cannot be easily understood or controlled. Often, what we feel, what we think true, rules us. Then, later, with regret for what we have thought or done, we rationalize.
This week, as I listened to a National Public Radio interview A Soldier's Journey from Iraq to Grad School, I realized again, the power of the mind, and the role it plays in peace.
Demond Mullins spent a year in Iraq with the National Guard. When he came back, he felt alienated and angry at what he had seen and done in the war. Now Mullins has found a degree of peace in higher learning."Academia ... that's where I'm at," the City University of New York grad student says. "Right now, school, books — Weber, Marx, Durkheim — that's my medication."
That's his medication now. But if it's true that there are seven stages of grief, it's fair to say that Mullins is going through several stages of adjusting to his new life.
Upon his return from Iraq, Mullins hoped to resume his life as it was. Yet, he realized this was not possible. He was no longer the same person; his views changed. The way Demond Mullins saw the world and considered himself had been altered.
Before he enlisted and shipped out, Demond Mullins had been a clothing model. This romantic gentleman once followed a girl to Las Vegas. He had plans. Ambitious and reflective, Mullins joined the National Guard to pay for college; he did not join the armed Services to fight. Yet, that is what he did.
when he tried to resume it, Mullins' old friends kept asking questions, like "What was it like when you shot someone?""I don't know," he says. "My experiences are not pornography for my friends or for anyone else. I use the word pornography because I feel like it is just the ... exploitation of my personal experiences for someone else's entertainment."
Mullins says he either ignored the question "or I would just say, 'You know, I don't want to talk about things like that' or just say, 'I didn't shoot anybody or whatever.'"
'Stressed Out and on the Edge'
He says he's not sure if he did shoot and kill anybody, though he knows exactly what he did at close range."I dehumanized people," Mullins says. "I don't even know how many raids I did while I was there. But during raids you're throwing them up against the wall, you're tying their hands behind their back, you're dragging them out of the bed. You're dehumanizing them in front of their wives and their kids and, you know, the women are crying and the children are crying and you're just like, whatever. Put a bag over their head or blindfold, drag them into the Humvee.
"Certain exhibitions of violence on my part that were probably unnecessary — were definitely unnecessary. But I was really stressed out and on edge at the time and I conducted myself . . . like that."
When he returned from Iraq, Mullins says he felt angry at himself. He broke up with his girlfriend. He spent days in his apartment.
"Staring at the wall. Not eating. I lost about 15 to 20 pounds," he says. "My friends still look at me and like, 'What happened to you?'"
Mullins says he was depressed to the point of being suicidal. Two of his friends have died since their return from Iraq, including one who shot himself in the face, Mullins says.
"To me, that would be the only way that I was capable of doing it because it was fast and it was a tool that I was very familiar with," he says.
Mullins got counseling from the Department of Veterans Affairs. He didn't like it and didn't want to take medication.
He managed to resume college, get a degree and move on to graduate school.
However, the path Demond Mullins took had many twists and turns. Initially, he immersed himself in his anger. Then dedicated to a cause, Demond took action and protested the war. Mullins appeared in an anti-war documentary called The Ground Truth.
"When I first started anti-war activism, it was because I felt guilty," Mullins says. "Because I'd meet people, especially a lot of civilians on the street, and they say, 'Oh, thank you for your service. Thank you for protecting America.' Like, what are you talking about? I wasn't protecting America. I was protecting myself and my buddy, you know?"After Mullins participated in the film, he felt less of a need to speak out.
And by this semester at graduate school, most of his fellow students and at least one of his professors had no idea of his background.
Demond Mullins is now more reflective, philosophical, and aware. He knows, to authentically assess America and this society, he must study.
Perhaps, the servicemen I watched stroll from car to car on this day, were on a similar journey. Perchance, later, after we all finished our work we would speak, not as peace protestor and participants in war, but as people. For now, they had a job to do as did I. Interestingly, in the abstract we each were motivated by peace.
As I interacted with those in vehicles as they passed I continued to ponder. I am close to numerous Veterans. As friends and as fellow protestors against the current wars, I know many a Vietnam Veteran.
One noble and honorably discharged soldier, whom I first met in cyberspace, again dedicates himself to his country. Jerry Northington aspires to be the Congressional Representative from Delaware. As one who fought in country, he understands the woes of warfare.
Family members engaged in battle during World War II. A nephew is off about to depart for Basic Training. Jason joined the Marines. I cannot imagine what his future holds. Will Jason be injured. Will he return whole, if at all. What will my nineteen year young nephew see, hear, and feel. Will he be willing or able to discuss such an ordeal. I am certain what I have been told by those once there on the frontlines is true. War is not pretty. A soldier cannot fully explain what he or she witness. Combat is experienced. It scars the spirit and deprives a man of his senses.
Soldier describes killing unarmed Iraqi
One of three members of sniper team accused of murder makes a tearful confession during testimony in the court-martial of a colleague.
By Ned Parker
Los Angeles Times
September 28, 2007BAGHDAD — U.S. Army Sgt. Evan Vela spoke in a low voice Thursday at the court-martial for his fellow soldier. Tears slid down the 23-year-old's cheeks and the judge prompted him to talk louder.
On May 11, Vela's sniper team had detained an Iraqi man near Jarf Sakhr, Vela testified. Staff Sgt. Michael A. Hensley undid the ropes that had pinned the prisoner's arms and asked Vela whether he was ready, he said.
The dark-haired Idaho native told the court he wasn't sure what his superior meant at the time. Vela said Hensley cradled the Iraqi's head, straightened his headdress, then moved away from Vela, who gripped a 9-millimeter pistol.
"I heard the word 'shoot.' I don't remember pulling the trigger. I just came to and the guy was dead. It took me a second to realize the shot came from the pistol in my hand," Vela said.
Vela is one of three soldiers from the same sniper team who are accused of premeditated murder in three shootings this spring. Their cases have provided a picture of mentally exhausted troops and the role they allegedly played in a "baiting program," in which snipers are believed to have planted fake weapons and bomb-making materials, then killed anyone who picked them up.
The alleged tactic was revealed in a hearing in July that eventually sent Hensley and Spc. Jorge G. Sandoval Jr. to face court-martial on murder charges. The Pentagon refuses to speak publicly about baiting or other such tactics, but insists that military practices are within the law.
"My client is no murderer. He is a victim," said James Culp, Vela's civilian defense attorney, who suspects that baiting contributed to the slaying of the Iraqi man on May 11.
We are all victims of war and those that command young men and women to shoot another being. Enemies, as nameless and faceless as we wish them to be are as we are. They are humans, with hearts and souls. Minds can be manipulated for a moment or for months. People persuaded or unduly influenced to do as they would never have done may commit crimes. Emotions can evoke feelings of fright that cause us to temporarily separate ourselves from our greater wisdom. However, after any of us does the unthinkable, we are left with the memories. Overtime, we reflect on the meaning. Perhaps that is why those that fought in battles are often less likely to resort to combat.
There must be a lesson, a means to communicate the tragedy of war before we engage. For now, I can only propose what I envisioned as a child. As I reflect on the story, The Truce of Christmas, A Silent Night 1914, I understand the power of true knowledge. When people stop and listen to the hearts of others, not the harangue of irrational "intellectualizations," they learn to love. When we see strangers as similar to us, we cannot kill. Indeed, we connect to the commonality that is humankind.
Hence, I believe, world leaders must face each other alone in a room for more than a moment. The argumentative among us must eat and sleep with those they disagree with. Perhaps, if the need to compete overwhelms those in power, they might arrange a chess tournament. A "war game" played on a checkered board might relieve the angst some feel when they argue. Thoughtful battles would do far less harm. Physical and financial wounds would be less severe. This is but a thought. I trust there are infinite opportunities to connect that we might consider. Unquestionably, there must be a better way to learn the lessons of war before a soldier loses a limb.
Jonathan Bartlett, one of 25,000 military persons injured during the Iraq war speaks of his trauma and trials. When Bartlett was a 19-year-old Army Corporal his truck hit a bomb on a road near Fallujah. That was three years ago. The explosion blew off both of his legs. Today, he appears in a Home Box Office [HBO] documentary titled Alive Day Memories: Home from Iraq. In an interview with Vanity Fair Columnist Austin Merrill, Jonathon shares the conflict within. He explains how the battle has just begun, or perhaps Bartlett plainly states how the battle never ends. Merrill inquires . . .
At one point in the film you say that you'd do it all over again. Then later you say that if given your legs back, you'd move on to do something else.[Jonathon Bartlett] replies] I would do it all over again if I went back to the age of 18 and they told me, you're going to join the army. I'd say yes. But if they gave me new legs tomorrow, I wouldn't go back. I was 18 and idealistic and naïve and uninformed, and I didn't know how the world works. Now I'm 22 and idealistic and naïve, but I do know how the world works. And I'm not going to go fight in a war that's so badly run, that some people don't give a [expletive] about. There's just so much bad [expletive] going on in this war. I don't want any part of it.
Yet, Bartlett goes on to clarify for him the problem with this war is not the warriors. It is the leaders. Jonathon Bartlett is angry with the Commander-In-Chief and his Cabinet. This soldier believes the nation's leaders did not have a plan. The soldiers were well trained. He was a good trooper.
I was good at being a soldier. I say that with no shame or no boasting. I was good at being a soldier. Mostly because I enjoyed it.What does being a good soldier mean, exactly?
I could shoot straight, I could ride true, and I could speak the truth. I could fight, I could think. I took care of my stuff. I took care of my vehicles. I looked the part all the time, which is very important. I knew how to talk, which gets you in trouble. I knew how to work the system. I knew how to acquire things. I could take care of my buddies.
Bartlett believes the Bush Administration is at fault, not the soldiers. On this, we would agree. However, when asked of peace protesters and retired Generals that speak out against the conflict he offers a view that befuddles me.
How do you feel when you see people rallying for or protesting against the war?
I think all of them have a massive disrespect for the soldiers who are over there, because they do not understand. They have no [expletive] clue. We don't have a choice. As soon as you sign that paper and swear that oath, we do not have a choice. We go wherever the hell the president and the generals tell us to. People who say if you're against this war you're against the soldiers are displaying their ignorance. Most people don't understand. They just don't get it. You know how many times I've been asked by some stupid person, some civilian, how many people did you kill? You don't ask a soldier that. I was a trained killer. That was my job, man. Somebody has to do it. Being a soldier is a job.What do you think of the retired generals who have come out against the war? Is that a betrayal?
No! It's good! They should have been doing that [expletive] when they were still in. I don't think it's a betrayal. These generals understand that they have soldiers on the line. The best generals are those who know what it means to be a troopie. A ground pounder. A supply clerk. This administration keeps throwing people at a problem and expecting it to fix it. It's not how things are done. You have to give them a plan. You have to lead them. And these generals understand that. The president does not. The president doesn't have a [expletive] clue.
The clue may be cryptic and not part of our conscious mind. As I stood at the corner, I thought the soldiers were on a peaceful mission. Fellow dissenters were certain there might be a confrontation.
Our view of others and ourselves provides, perspective. Perceptions are profoundly altered. Jonathon Bartlett has long believed military service was in his blood. His mother and father were each in the Navy. Jonathon was trained to protect, defend, and kill, and to consider each of these options tantamount. The young man trusts that Generals understand this. Yet, Mister Bartlett believes there must be a strategy if a mass massacre is to be effective.
Perhaps, that is the paradox. We coach our young to be combative. As a culture, we do not expect world harmony. We do not believe it can exist.
We must acknowledge and accept, what each of us believes affects our idea of war, peace, perpetrators, and protestors. An experience may cause us to blame, to frame friends and foes in a manner that does not make sense to others.
As I reflect on the words of Jonathon Bartlett, I am confused. While critical of those that demonstrate in favor of global accord, Private Bartlett also believes the individuals that think protestors are against the soldiers are in error. The Iraq war Veteran reasons, military leaders must speak out, stand strong, and stress ''we need a plan. The dichotomy befuddles. Perchance, another soldier explained the circumstances best. Sandi Austin discussed her view of the peace protestors.
For the most part, I feel that the majority of anti-war activists focus on our political leaders and not the soldiers. Driving by the anti-war protests I usually see signs the relay messages in support of the troops, but opposing the cause. Perhaps if I still wore a uniform I would feel differently, I might get glares or comments, but because I too am a civilian, I haven’t faced any hostility or felt unappreciated on a regular basis.
I wonder. When people go to war, do they flail at uniforms and forget that a person inhabits the clothing? Might appearances motivate us to engage in battle? As I reflect on the day, I realize, I could have reacted to the olive green and khaki camouflage fabric. The shaved heads, the American flags, the military garb . . . I might have been offended. If I had done as advised, I would have kept a distance. The servicemen might have concluded I did not understand. They too could have chosen to do other than they did. War, on a small scale may have ensued. Instead, each of us gave peace a chance.
Imagine if world leaders chose not to presume, assume, suppose or surmise, if soldiers were not sent off into battle, if we established a Department of Peace and left the Defense Department behind. I can dream and act in accordance.
Perceptions; The Promise of Peace . . .
Posted by Betsy L. Angert on November 18, 2007 at 08:15 PM in Active-Duty Troops , Activism, American Patriotism, Civil Disobedience, Iraq War, Military Missions, Morality in an Immoral War, Peace Movement, Peaceful Protests, War and Peace, War Kills [Mind, Body, Spirit], Why War?, World War I Christmas Truce | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack
A Climate of Fear Permeates; Morton High School Students Protest
Climate of Fear
copyright © 2007 Betsy L. Angert. BeThink.org
It was a quiet day in America; yet, the feeling of fear was palpable. Oceans away, in Baghdad, the air was filled with the smell of napalm. Frightened, as the young contemplated their future, seventy some courageous and committed students filed into the Morton West High School cafeteria in Berwyn, Illinois. Trepidation for their lives, and the lives of friends, family, and those innocent Iraqi citizens they never met prompted these pupils to take action. The young and eligible enlistees protested the war in Iraq.
Years earlier, dissent against this unjust battle was unthinkable. The Twin Towers fell. The Pentagon was hit. Other buildings were threatened and the nation panicked. America could not comprehend there might be blood shed on the tranquil shores of their homeland. Citizens were willing to do anything to ensure no more lives would be lost in the land of their birth. If it meant countrymen must sacrifice their freedoms, so be it. Immediately, Congress was called into session. Bills were passed and liberties lost. America was attacked; and thus, we were at war.
Theories were bantered about. Osama Bin Laden, the enemy behind the assault, was in Afghanistan. Terrorists were within our country. Saddam Hussein had Weapons of Mass Destruction. The thousands killed on September 11, 2001 were just the beginning. Certainly, we must know as a continent, North America is no longer safe. Air travel has opened all borders. Trains, boats, and planes were no longer means of transport. These are potential missiles.
Acquiescent, the American public believed they were not safe. Yet, fearful as the people were they knew this country must come together and show its strength. At ground zero a crowd stood and chanted, "USA, USA!" The Commander-In-Chief took the bull by the horn or the bullhorn and calmed the throng. He said . . .
"I can hear you. The rest of the world hears you. And the people who knocked these buildings down will hear all of us soon,"
It was then that the former friendly fellow, the man that had failed in most all of his business ventures, the son of a President whose success was said to be tied to his name, appeared decisive. The President, placed into the Oval Office by the Supreme Court, not by the people, became the protector. From the moment Bush stood on the mound of rumble and raised his voice, Americans followed his lead.
George W. Bush led his Secretary of State astray. Colin Powell addressed the United Nations with what Bush and Vice President Cheney knew was not "solid" intelligence. The Commander prompted his Cabinet to lie to Congress. The President's pal and Attorney General told a nation the Rules of the Geneva Convention are quaint. Our leader authorized torture. He trolled telephones. President Bush took us to the airport and asked us to take our shoes off. He read our library records and convinced us there was reason to forfeit our rights. The President of the United States played on our fears and we accepted his truths. Americans became apathetic and perhaps pathetic.
However, just as in years past, when an unpopular war was sold to the American public, when a threat [then communism, now terrorism] loomed large in the minds of those told to fear the youth responded, Morton High School's young scholars decided they must speak out. They entered the dining hall, a nook in the cranny of a huge building, a place where pupils often feel, or felt able to break from bureaucracy. For students, the canteen is considered a safety zone. Every high school has one, a place where pupils can relax, chat, gather, and forget the fears that flank them in the halls, and stalls of academia.
Yet, on this day, November first, All Saints Day, and a national day of peace, the lunchroom furnished no refuge. Apprehensive Administrators swooped down on the young scholars as they exercised their democratic right to free speech. Frightened school officials did just as a petrified President had done. Under the guise of informed authority, the Superintendent and Principal imposed retaliatory measures.
As is often true in a climate of fear, the terrified meet the terrified, and the trouble begins. When filled with fear a person in a powerful position does not wish to show his or her weakness. Thus, they adopt a punitive posture to appear in control; George W. Bush, Superintendent Ben Nowakowski , you decide.
The Berwyn School District bureaucrats selectively singled two-dozen students for expulsion. [Might these individuals be as those sent to Guantanamo Bay Prison, or off to Egypt, Yemen, Saudi Arabia and other countries with poor human rights records, for interrogation.] Morton West, Morton High School District 201 Superintendent Nowakowski told parents, pupils involved in the protest that are seventeen years or older would also face police charges. [Ah, those of a certain age may be as the persons of Middle Eastern descent. People in power think it just to profile agitators.] High achievers, athletes, and those whose parent are well connected were exempt from the more severe penalties. [Frequent fliers, white businessmen, and little old ladies . . .perhaps these persons are above reproach.] Indeed, school officials telephoned many prominent Moms and Dads and warned them. Take your child home. Be sure your son or daughter returns to class. Cease or dismiss.
The injustice was obvious; even mothers and fathers were distressed. Parents questioned School Board members and Administrators. They asked, what have we as a people become when we suppress speech, suspend dialogue, and arrest those that assemble, and petition the government for a redress of grievances. Perhaps, after all these years of war and Weapons of Mass Destruction that never were, the adults realize they too must question authority.
Parents and students say that penalties were too harsh -- and unfairly dispensed -- for some of those involved in the protest. More than a dozen parents at the meeting in the Morton East auditorium told the board that students who play varsity athletics or have a high grade point average were given less stringent penalties.Maniotis said her daughter Barbara, a junior at the high school, participated in the protest but was given a 5-day suspension and does not face expulsion because she is an honor student with a 4.5 GPA. Other students received 10-day suspensions with the possibility of expulsion.
"She did the same thing they did," Maniotis said. "This entire incident is outrageous. The school missed out on a wonderful teachable moment. Instead, they cracked down on them right away and turned it into a punitive situation."
Parents have said they want their children reinstated and the penalties removed from their records.
However, the Board and the Superintendent chose to exert its power. The community gathered thousands of signatures in support of the students. Parents, neighbors, concerned citizens met with authorities and stated, the punishment for protestors is too harsh. Those in power argued the point. School authorities might have said, "We do not torture." Waterboarding, while repugnant, is just in "real life" situations.
School officials also sent a letter to the parents of all the school’s students calling the protest “gross disobedience” and reminding parents that any disruption to the educational process could lead to expulsion.
Disobedience and dissention must be deterred. There can be no distractions. Our mission is clear. If we are to accomplish our goal, all threats must be eliminated. Presidents and Principals, Secretary's of State and Defense and Superintendents remind us, we have reasons to fear. This is the "age of terror."
Americans know by now, as we accept our telephones are tapped, any time we question authority we are in insubordination. Countrymen chuckle on reflection as they ponder, I almost got sent to Guantanamo. We are anxious regardless of what is real, for in truth, reality is perception. As long as we perceive a threat, there is one, and those in power will act in accordance. Innocents will be sent to [Guantanamo Bay] prison without due process.
Morton High school Principal, Mister Lucas was fretful despite of what occurred or did not. The protesters, pupils were extremely peaceful. They did as they were told to do. Law enforcement officers observed all went well. Nevertheless, fear flourished amongst Administrators.
[S]everal students said the protesters, whose numbers had dwindled to about 25, obeyed the administration’s request to move from a high-traffic area in the cafeteria to a less-crowded hall near the principal’s office. There, they intertwined arms, sang along to an acoustic guitar and talked about how the war was affecting the world, said Matt Heffernan, a junior who took part.“We agreed to move to another side of the building,” Matt said. “We also made a deal that if we moved there, there would be no disciplinary action taken upon us.”
Matt said the group had been told that the most severe punishment would be a Saturday detention for cutting class that day.
Police officers were on the scene, and Berwyn’s police chief, William Kushner, said no arrests were made. “It was all very peaceful and orderly,” he said.
But at the end of the school day, Matt said, Dr. Nowakowski gave the remaining protesters disciplinary notices stating that they had engaged in mob action, that they were suspended for 10 days and that they faced expulsion.
The sense of being actively involved in the community and in the civic process is weighty and can be woeful. As a Morton High School student stated; upon reflection he had "feelings of confidence — of a job well done." However, faced with expulsion he also embraced anxiety "and fright, because my whole educational future is at risk.”
Education for American students is at risk whether they protest the war or not. As the battles in the Middle East intensify, our youngest citizens watch expectantly. Currently, they are not forced to take up arms; yet, the cost of an advanced degree, the expense of living on your own, salaries, or more accurately, practically speaking, minimum wages threaten the security of a young mind. Military recruiters know this, as does the Administration, local and Federal. Armed Forces representatives maximize on the fear and the White House blesses such actions.
The practice began just after America surrendered itself to permanent apprehension. The Twin Towers fell and so too did the Bill of Rights. The Constitution was set aside in favor of the Patriot Act. The Commander-In-Chief of the United States, George W. Bush proposed we leave no child behind. In the spirit of bipartisanship, Mister Bush garnered support for a initiative that would change the lives of young Americans forever. The "Education" President signed the measure and a new military force was born.
Sharon Shea-Keneally, principal of Mount Anthony Union High School in Bennington, Vermont, was shocked when she received a letter in May from military recruiters demanding a list of all her students, including names, addresses, and phone numbers. The school invites recruiters to participate in career days and job fairs, but like most school districts, it keeps student information strictly confidential. "We don't give out a list of names of our kids to anybody," says Shea-Keneally, "not to colleges, churches, employers -- nobody."But when Shea-Keneally insisted on an explanation, she was in for an even bigger surprise: The recruiters cited the No Child Left Behind Act, President Bush's sweeping new education law passed earlier this year. There, buried deep within the law's 670 pages, is a provision requiring public secondary schools to provide military recruiters not only with access to facilities, but also with contact information for every student -- or face a cutoff of all federal aid.
"I was very surprised the requirement was attached to an education law," says Shea-Keneally. "I did not see the link."
The military complained this year that up to 15 percent of the nation's high schools are "problem schools" for recruiters. In 1999, the Pentagon says, recruiters were denied access to schools on 19,228 occasions. Rep. David Vitter, a Republican from Louisiana who sponsored the new recruitment requirement, says such schools "demonstrated an anti-military attitude that I thought was offensive."
Slights or the restricted right of entry seemed odious to pro-war Congressman Vitter, a man too young to have fought in a foreign battle. Attitudes such as his may helped build a system of recruitment that expanded our military defense. Prior to the initiative that allowed military representatives to sell their schpeel to High School students interest and investment in America's youth was not equally distributed. Nor is it now. The difference is, under current law, military recruiters can more easily find men and women willing to enlist. With thanks to No Child Left Behind the armed forces can focus on those most in need. That is best. After all, the affluent have opportunities that ensure economic and academic success. The rich are less likely to enlist.
[I]t appears that the affluent are not encouraging their children and peers to join the war effort on the battlefield.The writer of the Post-Gazette article, Jack Kelly, explored this question in his story that ran on Aug. 11. Kelly wrote of a Marine recruiter, Staff Sgt. Jason Rivera, who went to an affluent suburb outside of Pittsburgh to follow up with a young man who had expressed interest in enlisting. He pulled up to a house with American flags displayed in the yard. The mother came to the door in an American flag T-shirt and openly declared her support for the troops.
But she made it clear that her support only went so far.
"Military service isn't for our son," she told Rivera. "It isn't for our kind of people."
The kinds of people that are targeted are poor or lower Middle Class. Plebeian families will sacrifice their progeny disproportionately. Morton West High School in Berwyn, is nestled in a working-class suburb just west of Chicago. Soldiers dressed in uniform, don sparkly metals, and wear shined shoes as they stroll the halls of this blue-collar neighborhood school campus. They smile and sweet-talk eager teens. Recruiters befriend students and promise them a bright future if they enlist. In part, this helped to provide perspective for the pupils and prompted the protest.
Disabled Gulf War veteran Cesar Ruvalcaba, dressed in his military uniform, chose to lash out at military recruiters allowed to roam the halls of the school."Shame on the administrators who think receiving military money from recruiters is more important than the education of their students," he told the board. "I am 100 percent disabled, and I learned the hard way that education, not carrying a machine gun, is the key to success. It's those people who are pro-war who would never drop everything and go fight for the red, white, and blue. These kids should receive extra credit for speaking up, not expulsion."
Morton High School students are not alone. After years of subjection, some schools are fighting back. Administrators have decisively stood up for their students. Principals refuse to be part of the Bush regime or relegate academics to expulsion. Principals ask whether funds from No Child Left Behind provisions are worth the cost, the lost of freedom.
Rift over recruiting at public high schools
A Seattle high school bars military solicitation, touching off debate over Iraq war and free speech.
By Dean Paton
The Christian Science Monitor
May 18, 2005Seattle - While most Parent Teacher Student Association meetings might center on finding funding for better math books or the best way to chaperon a school dance, a recent meeting here at Garfield High School grappled with something much larger - the war in Iraq.
The school is perhaps one of the first in the nation to debate and vote against military recruiting on high school campuses - a topic already simmering at the college level . . .
High schools are struggling with a similar issue as the No Child Left Behind Act requires that schools receiving federal funding must release the names of its students to recruiters. Some feel that's an invasion of privacy prompted by a war effort that has largely divided the American public. Others say barring recruiters is an infringement of free speech - and a snub to the military, particularly in a time of war.
Garfield High School took a decisive step last week with a vote of 25 to 5 to adopt a resolution that says "public schools are not a place for military recruiters."
All this comes as recruiters struggle to meet enlistment goals.
Perchance, Americans no longer wish to live a life in fear. Our countrymen finally decided to vote for change. However, it did not come. Now the children take up the cause. Perhaps they will be more successful. With the support of their parents, the impossible may be probable. Indeed, it is, slightly.
Last evening, the Superintendent of Berwyn Schools released a statement. [On the same day some troops are slated to return home to American shores, not because the President heard the people say exit Iraq, but because, physically, they could no longer remain in battle] suspended students could and would return to class. School records will not reflect, peaceful rebellions as a dishonorable reason for discharge. Although Administrative faces are saved, it is important to consider that this is a step. We may move closer to educational experiences and further from a culture of fear. One can hope.
I offer the link for your perusal. Please read the Superintendent's proclamation. Please share your thoughts, quietly. Remember class is in session. Recruiters may still be listening and the Bush regime remains in office.
As you, dear reader, breathe deeply and ponder the protestors' plight, might I submit, alls is not well; nor did this situation truly end well. Granted, the students will be reinstated. Those that wish to pursue a military career will, and those that do not, will not. However, there is more to this story. Power plays; those that instill fear, fear not. Even when we think the Authorities care; they are concerned, and will no longer abuse, use or manipulate, we discover they continue to do as they have done.
Eight million veterans got their education thanks to the World War II GI Bill, which covered tuition, fees, and books, and gave veterans a living stipend while they were in school. A 1988 Congressional study proved that every dollar spent on educational benefits under the original GI Bill added seven dollars to the national economy in terms of productivity, consumer spending and tax revenue.Unfortunately, the current educational benefits offered to veterans are far lower than the original GI Bill. In fact, they cover only 60-70% of the average cost of four years at a public college or university, or less than two years at a typical private college. Our veterans deserve better.
A new GI [Government Issue] Bill is being crafted in Congress. However, Americans have reason to think this too shall not pass. If we the voters learn from the Morton High School students and state what we think, perhaps, veterans will have the chance they were promised . . . that is if they live to return home.
Let s fear no more. Americans cannot sit silent. If you wish to communicate to your Congress Person, please do. The time is now.
Help Veterans Continue their Education.
Sources of Fear; Culture of Care. . .
Thursday, January 6, 2005; Page A01
Posted by Betsy L. Angert on November 15, 2007 at 01:00 PM in 'Regime Change' , Activism, Adult Influence on Children, Afghanistan, American Patriotism, Americana, Bush 43 Administration, CIA Prisons, Civil Disobedience, Civil Rights, Congress and Bush, Current Affairs, Domestic Security, Education or War, Emotional Decisions, Exit Iraq Now, Fear, Inequality in America, International Security, Iraq War, Lies, Military Missions, National Security, No Child Left Behind, Patriot Act, Peace Movement, Politics, Question Everything, Saddam Hussein, Teach The Children, The Patriot Act , War and Peace, War is in the Wind, Wars Bush Commanded, “When is Enough, Enough?” | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Not In My Name? I Am An American; I am Culpable
copyright © 2007 Betsy L. Angert. BeThink.org
I hear the claims and the clamor. "This is George Bush's war!" This Administration instituted a "war on science." Federal funding for research was reduced in recent years. Laws meant to protect the environment were repealed. I would love to say that much of what occurs in America today is not done in my name. It is not my fault or folly. However, I cannot make this assertion. I am an American; I am culpable.
Granted, I do not support the wars in Iraq or Afghanistan. The possibility of a mêlée in Iran, Korea, Lebanon, Israel, here, or aboard I think abhorrent. For me, armed combat is not an option. It never was or will be in my mind. Congress does not represent me when they continue to fund brutal battles. Nevertheless, I believe this war is mine. I cannot blame it on George W. Bush, the House, or the Senate. I am an American. My country is directly responsible for the havoc we see in Iraq and Afghanistan. By extension, I believe we, as a nation, are answerable for the attacks we initiated and the aftermath.
My own certainty that I could do nothing more than I do allows those in office to act in my name. The sense of futility I feel gives credence to the concept that I cannot control the Commander-In-Chief, his counsel, or the Congress. Yet I am liable for my lack of initiative, for the lax I let be me.
I do not understand why this nation went into debt to fund a futile war. Had the battle been a breeze and America retreated triumphant, I would feel no different. Financial obligations, purchases made on credit are not as I crave. Conservatives may declare fiscal responsibility; however, it seems, if profits can be made from combat, then in debt we go. I believe this construct is foolish.
I have no ability to comprehend the love of victory. For me, wars are never won.
Perchance, that is why I struggle with the Presidential campaign. Political lines are drawn. Party's part ways. People cannot see the similarities within their stances. The differences, the depth of their division drives competitive combative persons on. The supposed need to succeed separates us. From the President to the people, the phrase "You are either with me or against me" dominates.
Democrats smell a Republican defeat and are happy to embrace any of three candidates that will not commit to exit Iraq. Fifty three percent of Progressives prefer the candidate that proudly proclaims, we need more troops in Afghanistan. It is craziness to me. I would love to say, this election is not being held in my name. Yet, I am a citizen of the United States. What happens in my homeland is, in part, my doing.
As an American, I am culpable for all that occurs in my country and for all that my nation does.
I do not grasp the logic that led members of the House and Senate to compromise on the State Children's Health Insurance Program. Why would anyone advocate to increase funds for Abstinence Only Sex Education classes, that have proven to be ineffective, is beyond me. I heard the excuses. Democrats declare Republicans will support the measure if .
The obsession to cut taxes makes no sense to me. We watch the infrastructure crumble around us and still we say, "No new taxes."
As I observe millions of people enter Wal-Mart, I wonder. Why might they complain of imports and then purchase these wares with glee.
I read the statistics. Forty-nine percent of immigrants are hired to do work in American homes. Businesses only bear a portion of the "burden" or benefit from a "cheap" labor force. Yet, wherever I travel Americans speak of the need to close borders.
Bigotry is in bloom in this nation. I would like to say xenophobia is not wrought in my name. Yet, I am an American. This is my country; I am culpable.
I recognize that I feel as though I do not have the power to change what is; however, I know to my core that change begins with me. As long as I blame, the President, the Bush Dynasty, the Clinton Clan, Congress, Vice President Cheney, Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid, Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi or you, I cannot, and will not do, as I must. Only when I accept that I am an American; I am culpable will I commit to change what causes my fellow man and me great harm.
I invite you do dream, to embrace the unattainable, and the ridiculous. Walk the streets in support of peace. Write letters to the editors, your Congressmen, and women. If a General Strike appeals to you, engage. November 6, 2007 offers an opportunity for protest. Whatever action you choose please be the serenity you wish to see. March in harmony. When someone shrilly speaks to you, do not respond in kind. If you believe in peace, let that path be your eternal guide.
With thanks to Congressman Dennis Kucinich, Don Quixote, and Miguel de Unamuno . . .
~ Miguel de Unamuno [Spanish Philosopher and Writer]
Not In My Name . . .
October 7, 2001
Posted by Betsy L. Angert on October 23, 2007 at 11:58 PM in Activism, Afghanistan, Boycotts, Bush 43 Administration, Bush Dynasty, Congress, Congress and Bush, Hillary Clinton, Immigration, Iran, Iraq War, Israel and Lebanon, Racial Discrimination, Richard [Dick] Cheney, Vice President , Wal-Mart | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Specific Suggestion: General Strike. Give Peace A Chance
John Lennon - Give Peace A Chance
copyright © 2007 Betsy L. Angert. BeThink.org
In Iraq, the war is waged. Bombs and bullet soar overhead. Often a missile lands, a mine explodes, and people perish. Daily life in the Persian Gulf life is perilous. I claim to care, and in actuality, I do, deeply. However, a casual observer would never know. I live well with the knowledge that those in Iraq die daily in heart, mind, body, and soul. The contrast between the quality of my life and the life of those in the Middle East haunts me.
There must be some action I can take, a movement that makes a difference. I do what I think reasonable. I protest. I stand on corners and advocate peace. Nonviolent marches are amongst my missions. I publish tomes. The topic is end hostilities, live in harmony. I plead to members of Congress, "Cut the funds." Stop the war. Bring the troops home. Let the Iraqi people create tranquility in a manner best for them. Yet, as I protest, I ponder. Perhaps, much to my distress, I remain ineffective. My life choices reflect an active apathy. I must consider what I accept in my daily existence.
Each day I awake. The sun shines on my face. A gentle breeze blows through my window and across the bed sheets. I look around and see the luxury that is my life. As an American, I am not affluent. I am not even average. My income perhaps, is paltry. Yet, life is good . . . here in the States.
In the early morn, in the calm of my home, I begin my day. I disrobe. I place my pajamas in the hamper, or immediately put them in the washing machine. I press a button and the electricity flows through the cables. Water enters the basin through hoses. I wash my sleepwear in a way most persons in Iraq cannot. I pitter and patter without a care, or at least appearances might suggest I have none. In truth, I have great angst, not for the calm that is my day, but for what the sunlight hours and the evening darkness must be like for those in war zones.
I iron. I bathe; I dress. My clothes are clean and pressed. I prepare for work, play, for hours of consumption. I do all that I can to maintain the "norm' that is America.
Outside the birds sing. The squirrels scatter. Animals gather their food with delight. The butterflies and bees find nourishment in the flowers. Mine is a fine life.
While I may not be wealthy, I own an automobile. I put gas in the tank and drive freely about town. I listen to people complain of the cost of petroleum fuel, and I wonder. The price is dear. People die so that we might toddle about. I go hither and yon. Yet, as I do, I ruminate. How might my actions reflect my disdain for what we, Americans do and do not.
Some say, the war effort is not done in their name. I disagree. The battle is mine. My inertia allows the combat to continue. My sense that I cannot influence the military industrial complex that controls the battle defines me as complicit. My belief that I am but one small, insignificant being, and cannot change what Congress or the President does, is counter to my faith in people. That I allow myself to invest in a world establishes all I disdain demonstrates that I am part of the problem and not the solution.
If I do little more than protest in word and deed, while I continue to live my life with glee, then what have I really done to make a statement? As a single person, perchance, I do not have the power to be heard above the fray. Nevertheless, I can try to make a difference. Indeed, I must do more than endeavor. I must organize; bring people together, so that the exertion of one will have the effect of many.
I must generate human energy, excite the empathetic sensibility that lies still within each of us. I must do all that I can to bring the troops home, and ensure that the allied forces exit Iraq. If I can help make an impression globally, then perhaps the war will end.
I propose we, the people of this planet take our power back. I invite you dear reader to consider the wisdom Garret Keizer expresses in a Harpers notebook. Might we prepare for peace and act in love. The Specific suggestion: [A] General strike.
Please ponder the possibility. On Election Day, cast a ballot for regime change. Act to end the war. Refuse to work; do not help maintain the status quo. Stop shopping. Do not serve the combative corporate structure that funds this armed engagement. The time is now, not in 2013 as Presidential hopefuls claim. We must move as one if we are to live together.
I hope to see you on the streets of America on November 6, 2007. Collectively, let us sing and act as though the elusive dream is possible. We can "Give Peace A Chance."
Specific suggestion: General strike
By Garret Keizer
Harpers.
October 2007
Awake and sing, ye that dwell in dust.
—Isaiah 26:19
1.
Of all the various depredations of the Bush regime, none has been so thorough as its plundering of hope. Iraq will recover sooner. What was supposed to have been the crux of our foreign policy—a shock-and-awe tutorial on the utter futility of any opposition to the whims of American power—has achieved its greatest and perhaps its only lasting success in the American soul. You will want to cite the exceptions, the lunch-hour protests against the war, the dinner-party ejaculations of dissent, though you might also want to ask what substantive difference they bear to grousing about the weather or even to raging against the dying of the light—that is, to any ritualized complaint against forces universally acknowledged as unalterable. Bush is no longer the name of a president so much as the abbreviation of a proverb, something between Murphy’s Law and tomorrow’s fatal inducement to drink and be merry today.
If someone were to suggest, for example, that we begin a general strike on Election Day, November 6, 2007, for the sole purpose of removing this regime from power, how readily and with what well-practiced assurance would you find yourself producing the words “It won’t do any good”? Plausible and even courageous in the mouth of a patient who knows he’s going to die, the sentiment fits equally well in the heart of a citizen-ry that believes it is already dead.
2.
Any strike, whether it happens in a factory, a nation, or a marriage, amounts to a reaffirmation of consent. The strikers remind their overlords—and, equally important, themselves—that the seemingly perpetual machinery of daily life has an off switch as well as an on. Camus said that the one serious question of philosophy is whether or not to commit suicide; the one serious question of political philosophy is whether or not to get out of bed. Silly as it may have seemed at the time, John and Yoko’s famous stunt was based on a profound observation. Instant karma is not so instant—we ratify it day by day.
The stream of commuters heading into the city, the caravan of tractor-trailers pulling out of the rest stop into the dawn’s early light, speak a deep-throated Yes to the sum total of what’s going on in our collective life. The poet Richard Wilbur writes of the “ripped mouse” that “cries Concordance” in the talons of the owl; we too cry our daily assent in the grip of the prevailing order— except in those notable instances when, like a donkey or a Buddha, we refuse to budge.
The question we need to ask ourselves at this moment is what further provocations we require to justify digging in our heels. To put the question more pointedly: Are we willing to wait until the next presidential election, or for some interim congressional conversion experience, knowing that if we do wait, hundreds of our sons and daughters will be needlessly destroyed? Another poet, César Vallejo, framed the question like this:
A man shivers with cold, coughs, spits up blood.
Will it ever be fitting to allude to my inner soul?
. . . A cripple sleeps with one foot on his shoulder.
Shall I later on talk about Picasso, of all people?
A young man goes to Walter Reed without a face. Shall I make an appointment with my barber? A female prisoner is sodomized at Abu Ghraib. Shall I send a check to the Clinton campaign?
3.
You will recall that a major theme of the Bush Administration’s response to September 11 was that life should go on as usual. We should keep saying that broad consensual Yes as loudly as we dared. We could best express our patriotism by hitting the malls, by booking a flight to Disney World. At the time, the advice seemed prudent enough: avoid hysteria; defy the intimidations of murderers and fanatics.
In hindsight, it’s hard not to see the roots of our predicament in the readiness with which we took that advice to heart. We did exactly as we were told, with a net result that is less an implicit defiance of terrorism than a tacit amen to the “war on terror,” including the war in Iraq. Granted, many of us have come to find both those wars unacceptable. But do we find them intolerable? Can you sleep? Yes, doctor, I can sleep. Can you work? Yes, doctor, I can work. Do you get out to the movies, enjoy a good restaurant? Actually, I have a reservation for tonight. Then I’d say you were doing okay, wouldn’t you? I’d say you were tolerating the treatment fairly well.
It is one thing to endure abuses and to carry on in spite of them. It is quite another thing to carry on to the point of abetting the abuse. We need to move the discussion of our nation’s health to the emergency room. We need to tell the doctors of the body politic that the treatment isn’t working—and that until it changes radically for the better, neither are we.
4.
No one person, least of all a freelance writer, has the prerogative to call or set the date for a general strike. What do you guys do for a strike, sit on your overdue library books? Still, what day more fitting for a strike than the first Tuesday of November, the Feast of the Hanging Chads? What other day on the national calendar cries so loudly for rededication?
The only date that comes close is September 11. You have to do a bit of soul-searching to see it, but one result of the Bush presidency has been a loss of connection to those who perished that day. Unless they were members of our families, unless we were involved in their rescue, do we think of them? It’s too easy to say that time eases the grief—there’s more to it than that, more even than the natural tendency to shy away from brooding on disasters that might happen again. We avoid thinking of the September 11 victims because to think of them we have to think also of what we have allowed to happen in their names. Or, if we object openly to what has happened, we have to parry the insinuation that we’re unmoved by their loss.
It is time for us to make a public profession of faith that the people who went to work that morning, who caught the cabs and rode the elevators and later jumped to their deaths, were not on the whole people who would sanction extraordinary rendition, preemptive war, and the suspension of habeas corpus; that in their heels and suits they were at least as decent as any sneaker-shod person standing vigil outside a post office with a stop the war sign. That the government workers who died in the Pentagon were not by some strange congenital fluke more obtuse than the high-ranking officers who thought the invasion of Iraq was a bad idea from the get-go. That the passengers who rushed the hijackers on Flight 93 were not repeating the mantra “It won’t do any good” while scratching their heads and their asses in a happy-hour funk.
An Election Day general strike would set our remembrance of those people free from the sarcophagi of rhetoric and rationalization. It would be the political equivalent of raising them from the dead. It would be a clear if sadly delayed message of solidarity to those voters in Ohio and Florida who were pretty much told they could drop dead.
5.
But how would it work? A curious question to ask given that not working is most of what it would entail. Not working until the president and the shadow president resigned or were impeached. Never mind what happens next. Rather, let our mandarins ask how this came to happen in the first place. Let them ask in shock and awe.
People who could not, for whatever reason, cease work could at least curtail consumption. In fact, that might prove the more effective action of the two. They could vacate the shopping malls. They could cancel their flights. With the aid of their Higher Power, they could turn off their cell phones. They could unplug their TVs.
The most successful general strike imaginable would require extraordinary measures simply to announce its success. It would require sound trucks going up and down the streets, Rupert Murdoch reduced to croaking through a bullhorn. Bonfires blazing on the hills. Bells tolling till they cracked. (Don’t we have one of those on display somewhere?)
Ironically, the segment of the population most unable to participate would be the troops stationed in the Middle East. Striking in their circumstances would amount to suicide. That distinction alone ought to suffice as a reason to strike, as a reminder of the unconscionable underside of our “normal” existence. We get on with our lives, they get on with their deaths.
As for how the strike would be publicized and organized, these would depend on the willingness to strike itself. The greater the willingness, the fewer the logistical requirements. How many Americans does it take to change a light-bulb? How many Web postings, how many emblazoned bedsheets hung from the upper-story windows? Think of it this way: How many hours does it take to learn the results of last night’s American Idol, even when you don’t want to know?
In 1943, the Danes managed to save 7,200 of their 7,800 Jewish neighbors from the Gestapo. They had no blogs, no television, no text messaging—and very little time to prepare. They passed their apartment keys to the hunted on the streets. They formed convoys to the coast. An ambulance driver set out with a phone book, stopping at any address with a Jewish-sounding name. No GPS for directions. No excuse not to try.
But what if it failed? What if the general strike proved to be anything but general? I thought Bush was supposed to be the one afraid of science. Hypothesis, experiment, analysis, conclusion—are they his hobgoblins or ours? What do we have to fear, except additional evidence that George W. Bush is exactly what he appears to be: the president few of us like and most of us deserve. But science dares to test the obvious. So let us dare.
6.
We could hardly be accused of innovation. General strikes have a long and venerable history. They’re as retro as the Bill of Rights. There was one in Great Britain in 1926, in France in 1968, in Ukraine in 2004, in Guinea just this year. Finns do it, Nepalis do it, even people without email do it . . .
But we don’t have to do it, you will say, because “we have a process.” Have or had, the verb remains tentative. In regard to verbs, Dick Cheney showed his superlative talent for le mot juste when in the halls of the U.S. Congress he told Vermont Senator Patrick Leahy to go fuck himself. He has since told congressional investigators to do the same thing. There’s your process. Dick Cheney could lie every day of his life for all the years of Methuselah, and for the sake of that one remark history would still need to remember him as an honest man. In the next world, Diogenes will kneel down before him. In this world, though, and in spite of the invitation tendered to me through my senator, I choose to remain on my feet.
“United we stand,” isn’t that how it goes? But we are not united, not by a long shot. At this juncture we may be able to unite only in what we will not stand for. The justification of torture, the violation of our privacy, the betrayal of our intelligence operatives, the bankrupting of our commonwealth, the besmirching of our country’s name, the feckless response to natural disaster, the dictatorial inflation of executive power, the senseless butchery of our youth—if these do not constitute a common ground for intolerance, what does?
People were indignant at the findings of the 9/11 Commission—it seems there were compelling reasons to believe an attack was imminent!—yet for the attack on our Constitution we have evidence even more compelling. How can we criticize an administration for failing to act in the face of a probable threat given our own refusal to act in the face of a threat already fulfilled? As long as we’re willing to go on with our business, Bush and Cheney will feel free to go on with their coup. As long as we’re willing to continue fucking ourselves, why should they have any scruples about telling us to smile during the act?
7.
Between undertaking the strike and achieving its objective, the latter requires the greater courage. It requires courage simply to admit that this is so. For too many of us, Bush has become a secret craving, an addiction. We loathe Bush the way that Peter Pan loathed Captain Hook; he’s a villain, to be sure, but he’s half the fun of living in Never-Never Land. He has provided us with an inexhaustible supply of editorial copy, partisan rectitude, and every sort of lame excuse for not engaging the system he represents. In that sense, asking “What if the strike were to fail?” is not even honest. On some level we would want it to fail.
Certainly, this would be true of those who’ve declared themselves as presidential candidates and for whom the Bush legacy represents an unprecedented windfall of political capital. One need only speak a coherent sentence—one need only breathe from a differently shaped smirk—to seem like a savior. Ding-dong, the Witch is dead. Already I can see the winged monkeys who signed off on the Patriot Act and the Iraq invasion jumping up and down for joy. Already I can hear the nauseating gush: “Such a welcome relief after Bush!” Relief, yes. But relief is not hope.
How much better if we could say to our next administration: Don’t talk about Bush. We dealt with Bush. We dealt with Bush and in so doing we demonstrated our ability to deal with you. You have a mandate more rigorous than looking good beside Bush. You need a program more ambitious than “uniting the country.” We are united—at least we were, if only for a while, if only in our disgust. If only I believed all this would happen.
I wrote this appeal during the days leading up to the Fourth of July. I wrote it because for the past six and a half years I have heard the people I love best—family members, friends, former students and parishioners—saying, “I’m sick over what’s happening to our country, but I just don’t know what to do.” Might I be pardoned if, fearing civil disorder less than I fear civil despair, I said, “Well, we could do this.” It has been done before and we could do this. And I do believe we could. If anyone has a better idea, I’m keen to hear it. Only don’t tell me what some presidential hopeful ought to do someday. Tell me what the people who have nearly lost their hope can do right now.
We can act in love, work for peace. What we have done to this date has not helped bring peace. Let us stand tall, stand strong, sing and serve the cause of peace. Profits can wait; the world cannot!
References . . .
Posted by Betsy L. Angert on September 29, 2007 at 12:00 PM in Activism | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack
The Real Movement Forward; Peace and Progress
Paul Hawken speaks at Bioneers 2006
copyright © 2007 Betsy L. Angert. BeThink.org
George W. Bush speaks of the movement forward. The President and his powerful people think progress occurs when one global power shows all others it is strong. For the ideologues in the White House, and those that occupy many other monuments dedicated to military force, throughout the world, "Might makes right." Persons labeled as "Leaders" believe peace and prosperity can be achieved through war.
Americans think the answer is to the question, 'How might we achieve global harmony?' is 'we must aggressively, brutally spread democracy." Dollars spent on defense will secure a fragile planet.
Authoritarians in other nations think their form of restrictive governance must triumph if the Earth is to ever experience tranquility.
I believe neither is valid or viable. When any form supremacy is standard, those thought less than will resent, rebel, and revolt. Domination and disorder do nothing to further serenity. Nor will these decidedly sources for derision secure social justice for all.
Peace is procured when we work as one. "United we stand. Divided we fall." I trust we, Billionaires, Big Businesses, Bill, Betty, Bob, Beatrice, you, and I, are one. Collectively we must work together to restore the environment and foster social justice. In truth, we are.
In a gracious speech, Environmentalist, Entrepreneur, Journalist, and best-selling Author, Paul Hawken spoke of the glory of unity. As Bioneers gathered in a large auditorium, Hawken's delivered a message that perhaps, unknowingly millions embraced before they entered the forum. Hawken's verbalized what few observed for when we work in our own isolated area, we do not realize how many join us from afar. Energy expands and encompasses all, even if they are physically miles away.
I offer a portion of the text, the transcript of Biology, Resistance, and Restoration: Sustainability as an Infinite Game. Please travel through the cyberspace link and connect further to the Bioneers 2006 Plenary Transcript, by Paul Hawken.
There are one million organizations in this world. One million escorts, and they are here to transform the nightmares of empire and the disgrace of war upon the people and places on this Earth. We are the transgressors and we are the forgivers.We means all of us, everyone. There can be no green movement unless there’s a black, brown, and copper colored movement.
We absolutely have to speak the truth, but we cannot disparage, ridicule, or shame other people. No one. Not Bush. Not Cheney. Not Foley. Not Delay.
We do not exalt ourselves when we belittle others. To be the change, as is so often quoted, means compassion, it doesn’t mean prosecution. As Kenny said, and made clear in his opening talk on Friday, there is no enemy. Dr. King in that first speech quoted Booker T. Washington: “Let no man pull you down so low as to make you hate him.”
We become what we say, and what we say creates the world, and what we are doing is not about winning, it is about what Rosa Parks did; it is about acting courageously.
Two years ago, I showed a clip—a list of some of the organizations that comprise what I call the largest movement in the world, a movement that has no name. The reason I created it was to give you a sense of scale. No other reason.
When I showed it two years ago, I said that if we had started running this on Friday and ran it all day Friday, and Friday night, and all day Saturday, and all day Saturday night, all night Saturday night, all day Sunday, all night tonight, that it wouldn’t be until Tuesday morning that you would have seen all the names of the organizations in the world who are working towards social justice and ecological restoration and human rights.
But what I know, two years later, is that you would not leave Tuesday morning, you would be still sitting here and you would have to continue sitting here for all of next week. You would still be here next weekend. You would be here the week after. You would still be watching the names during the elections and wondering maybe if that was enough organizations, but no, you would still be sitting looking at this list, saying, I don’t think this is such a good idea, but I’m impressed.
It wouldn’t be until Thanksgiving when you smelled the pumpkin pie in the oven that this thing would shut off. It would take a month to see all the names.
This movement is about ideas, not ideologies. We have to make those ideas better known to the world.
This movement claims no special powers. It grows up in small ways, but now we have to become more powerful. Rather than control, it seeks connection and now we must become much better connected to each other. Rather than seeking dominance, it strives to disperse concentrations of power, but now we have to aggregate our voices. We have to make it known that this movement is about addressing the suffering on this planet and those who bear the suffering.
Knowing its weakness creates innovative tactics to leverage itself. It forms, gathers, and dissipates without central leadership command or control. No one knows its size, especially those inside it. There is such fierceness here.
There is no explanation for the raw courage and the heart seen over and again in the people who march, speak, create, resist, and build. It is the fierceness of what it means to know that we are human and want to survive.
To witness the worldwide breakdown of civility into camps and ideologies and meaningless wars, to watch the accelerating breakdown of our environmental systems is harrowing and dispiriting. I said this movement is an immune system. Well, immune systems fail too.
This movement most certainly can fail. What stands before us, I think, is a gift of self-perception, the gift of seeing who we really are. We will either come together as one globalized people or we will disappear as a civilization.
Let us continue to move forward. Each single action accelerates our joint endeavor. May we acknowledge that as one we may seem but a grain of sand, solitary, and without the strength to move mountains. As many, our efforts expand. When millions come together and join in a common peaceful cause, the effect cascades. In amity, there is no harm. May we proceed forward with the confidence there are others. We may not see them. Perhaps, we have not met every individual that craves for the calm we long for. Nonetheless, they are there. We need not feel frustrated; nor must we approach the discussion with fury.
Our fervor is our force. When we embrace our faith in the goodness of mankind, and act as the benevolent persons we are, peace, and a shared prosperity, will prevail. Let us move forward with intention. Please understand, and trust to our core, you are not alone.
Together, the Union, One is All . . .
Posted by Betsy L. Angert on September 19, 2007 at 01:38 PM in Activism, Global Village, Peace Movement | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack
