What Did You Do In The Great Peace March, Mommy?

I dressed in black and drove to D.C. to march beside my Quaker friends and the (men and) Women in Black from my home town. As always, I was astonished at the diversity (of causes, backgrounds, beliefs and styles) which comprises peace gatherings. The only hostility I experienced came from about a hundred screamers who were thoughtfully held back, away from the peacewalkers, by a stolid line of well-trained policepersons. I was relieved that our peaceful protest thus managed to stay legal and non-violent….

 

I saw many creative and thoughtful posters representing free speech on both sides, some of which I agreed with, some not, but the best of which–like poetry–offered pithy aphorisms worth pondering:

 

VISUALIZE COMPASSIONATE IMPEACHMENT / MAD COWBOY DISEASE / BUSH HAS IRAQTILE DYSFUNCTION / QUAGMIRE ACCOMPLISHED / FERME LE BUSH / War is terrorism with a higher budget. / MAKE LEVEES NOT HUMVEES / LEAVE NO BILLIONAIRE BEHIND / Our son was once an embryo: don’t send him to Iraq. / IRAQ: A FAITH-BASED INITIATIVE / GOT VALUES? SUPPORT PEACE. / The rich get more; the poor get war. / No more BUSHIT! / BuSHAMErica / Impeach Bush: it was good enough for Nixon. / W = WORST (ever) / George of the Bungle / It’s a globe, not an empire (with photo of the earth) / Join Republicans Ashamed of Bush / End the war–draft the rich. / How many lives per gallon? / LBJ never looked so good. / What’s our oil doing under their sand? / Human need, not corporate greed. / We the People say No / (A child carrying) Don’t make me pay for the Iraq war. / Real men don’t drop bombs. / Boost troop morale; bring ‘em home. / (A peace sign followed by) Back by popular demand! / My son was not born to kill another mother’s children. / (Beside photo of Iraqi child): She is not my enemy. / Honor the warriors, not the war. / Which is worse, screwing an intern or screwing a country? / HEALTHCARE NOT WARFARE / Protest now before your kids get drafted. / Take the war toys away from Junior. / Violence is the refuge of the incompetent. / Impeach for sex but not for murder? / The Great Profit told Bush to invade Iraq. / Will Trade Bush for Peace / Drunk on Power, President Drives Country Into Ditch! / War is not a family value. / From New Orleans to Iraq—Stop the War on Poverty. / I never thought I’d miss Nixon / Iraq is Arabic for Vietnam / Kanye West for President: George Bush doesn’t care about black people. / God bless the whole world, no exceptions….

 

And on the other side, also original, funny and/or thought-provoking….

 

JANE FONDA LOOK-ALIKE CONTEST! / AL QUAEDA thanks you for your support…. / War protesters are Sheehanistas….

 

I was intrigued by a radiant young woman's homemade tee-shirt displaying a smiling photo of George and Laura, beneath which she had scrawled, “Meet the Fuckers.”

 

Halfway through the march, a man in our Women In Black group stopped to help a tired lady (Liz Sweet) struggling to carry a heavy rolled-up banner while pushing a child in a stroller. Upon inquiry, we found she had lost her son to the Iraq war and had somehow missed meeting her group, so couldn’t unfurl her banner. David immediately commandeered her stroller, while the rest of us were privileged to help her sadly carry her banner to the march’s end, and afterward, to her meeting place with other Gold Star Mothers, Military Families Against the War and Cindy Sheehan, at the big sound stage. Her well-made banner, about 20’X 5’, displayed a huge photo of a tenderly beautiful and vibrantlyalive young man in uniform (Thomas Sweet) and the words:

 

GEORGE W. BUSH SENT MY SON HOME IN A BODY BAG

 

As we wended our way through crowds toward Ms. Sweet’s destinations, we thrilled to the up-close sight and sound of Joan Baez. I thought about the lies, about Liz's darling Thomas, and of Vietnam-era buttons which warned, “Truth is the first casualty of war,” while Joan sweetly sang the all-too-familiar refrain, “When will they ever learn…?”

 

The weather was perfect for a rally—just a brief misty rain, not even enough to warrant opening my umbrella. I would have liked to have seen many more clean public portapotties available. A petite, polished silver-haired matron who had visited them resignedly recommended her own decision:  “Next time I'll just go in my pants.” I personally abused the hospitality of the White House Visitors’ Center and The Corcoran Museum of Art, and smiled to overhear a young man confess, “If I go to jail today, it will be for public urination,” and his girlfriend’s rejoinder, “All right! Pissing for Peace!”

 

Maybe that’s what all of us were doing at the march, all 150,000+ of us…. Maybe we were all (as we once might have expressed it) “pissing into the wind.” But there was definitely some vinegar blowing in the wind around D.C. yesterday, too.

 

We are all still free to express the great diversity of our opinions–left, right and in-between–on how best to address and solve today's many difficult challenges. I know one thing for sure, though: no matter what the question, war is not the answer.

 

 

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