It's Veterans Day and I Can't Stop Crying from Shame
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I dropped my son off at school this morning, realizing only then that I had forgotten the special Veteran's Day program at his elementary school and that he would be singing in the choir. I scurried into the cafeteria/auditorium and settled myself in a folding chair, across from the rows along the side wall reserved for veterans. Nothing could have prepared me for what happened next.
The kids sang songs like "Wild Blue Yonder," "The Caisson's Song," "Anchors Aweigh," and the "Marine Hymn." A ribbon of sadness fluttered and wound itself around me. My eyes welled up in tears. A slide show of veterans' photos sent in by parents and grandparents, followed. A growing tightness in my chest left me gasping for breath. I broke down and sobbed. Feelings of loss washed over me but they brought along an epiphany. For the first time ever I saw what it meant for us Americans to call the President of the United States our "Commander-in-Chief." The presidency has many political and profane roles to fulfill, but that one alone is sacred.
Our president is given the power to send young men and women off to war, in a cosmic lottery for which fate alone knows which ones will return home. It has been far too easy for America's worst presidents to go to war based on fanciful worldviews and ideologically-contrived intelligence. They manipulate the patriotism of adults (a term that you must live in the South as I do to appreciate to its fullest) as well as the idealism of youth (our innocent sons and daughters who have not yet glimpsed the finality of death).
In future elections, the highest criteria I will use in deciding which presidential candidate to support, will be the candidate's capacity to see the world clearly, whatever the political party. In re-electing President Obama, the American public made the right choice this time. But I'm still having trouble putting the past behind me, because it keeps intruding on the present, with homeless veterans, young amputees, and individuals so psychologically damaged that they no longer know who they are. I did protest the war in Iraq, and argued against the U.S. invasion of Afghanistan. So many lives would have been saved by criminalizing the 9/11 attack and going after al-Qaeda the same way President Obama rid us of Osama bin Laden. Whether I supported these wars or not, as an American I still have blood on my hands. Does anyone know how to wash away those stains?
The kids sang songs like "Wild Blue Yonder," "The Caisson's Song," "Anchors Aweigh," and the "Marine Hymn." A ribbon of sadness fluttered and wound itself around me. My eyes welled up in tears. A slide show of veterans' photos sent in by parents and grandparents, followed. A growing tightness in my chest left me gasping for breath. I broke down and sobbed. Feelings of loss washed over me but they brought along an epiphany. For the first time ever I saw what it meant for us Americans to call the President of the United States our "Commander-in-Chief." The presidency has many political and profane roles to fulfill, but that one alone is sacred.
Our president is given the power to send young men and women off to war, in a cosmic lottery for which fate alone knows which ones will return home. It has been far too easy for America's worst presidents to go to war based on fanciful worldviews and ideologically-contrived intelligence. They manipulate the patriotism of adults (a term that you must live in the South as I do to appreciate to its fullest) as well as the idealism of youth (our innocent sons and daughters who have not yet glimpsed the finality of death).
In future elections, the highest criteria I will use in deciding which presidential candidate to support, will be the candidate's capacity to see the world clearly, whatever the political party. In re-electing President Obama, the American public made the right choice this time. But I'm still having trouble putting the past behind me, because it keeps intruding on the present, with homeless veterans, young amputees, and individuals so psychologically damaged that they no longer know who they are. I did protest the war in Iraq, and argued against the U.S. invasion of Afghanistan. So many lives would have been saved by criminalizing the 9/11 attack and going after al-Qaeda the same way President Obama rid us of Osama bin Laden. Whether I supported these wars or not, as an American I still have blood on my hands. Does anyone know how to wash away those stains?
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