work for peace

work for justice. When I added this three years ago, I wasn’t quite sure what it meant or how I would do this. So, I entered the masters program I’m in studying conflict transformation. I’ve worked for peace on the little things I’ve done throughout this course, but the more I work, the more I see that peace without justice is not peace. It’s oppression. It might be more comfortable for those who are in positions of power. It might seem “peaceful” for those of us who live in situations where our families have their needs, and their security, addressed. However, that is not peace. As long as any mother in this world puts her baby to bed at night and isn’t sure how she’ll fed her tomorrow, or whether or not her baby is secure in her bed, there is no peace. And only with working for justice will there be food on the table, security in the baby’s bed. So, I’m done working for peace directly, but I’ll be working for justice, and a peace with justice.

but I’ve been so busy in school for the past month..I have a few days to deal with a couple of things, and I’ll be back.

This working for peace gig is pretty demanding, exhausting, and really rewarding.

(But I need to run and bike too!)

Yesterday in class one of my professors was discussing a situation where he was very harshly criticized at a conference for one of his books. The basis for the criticism was philosophically the opposite of other criticisms he’d received on the book.

He told us he listened to this man for a while. We asked how he did that, he told us that he listened carefully for their is some truth in almost everything that someone says.

That’s probably true.

a coworker. We disagree on so many things-including much about politics and religion.

But it is in our shared experiences and thoughts that we dwell.

Here’s where I am this week: http://www.emu.edu/ctp/spi.html

I’m sure I’ll have posts as the week continues.

...We do not understand this tragedy. We know we did not deserve it but neither does a child in Africa dying of AIDS, but neither do the invisible children walking the night to avoid being captured by a rogue army. Neither does the baby elephant watching his community be devastated for ivory; neither does the Appalachian infant killed in the middle of the night in his crib in the home his father built with his own hands being run over by a boulder because the land was destabilized. No one deserves a tragedy.
We are Virginia Tech.
The Hokier Nation embraces our own with open heart and hands to those who offer their hearts and minds. We are strong and brave and innocent and unafraid. We are better than we think, not quite what we want to be. We are alive to the imagination and the possibility we will continue to invent the future through our blood and tears, through all this sadness…(Nikki Giovanni on the tragedy 4/16/07)

it breaks my heart that there is so much hatred and anger in the world right now. why do people have so many misunderstandings about each other? no matter where we come from or what we choose to believe in, the bottom line is that we’re all human, and we’re all sharing this small planet for a relatively short period of time…

I’ve worked with the Maine Peace Action Committee in Orono while a student at the University of Maine. At first I approached it with just mild political and personal interpretations of what peace meant. I thought of it as a very personal thing, almost in a new-agey fashion.

Working with others to promote peace in concrete ways both expanded and narrowed my abstract conception of it. I believe that the peace within and without are integrally tied, like yin and yang, and if one wants to find peace within, they should also focus on what they can do to promote more positive circumstances that surround themselves and their neighbors.

With this group, we spoke and acted on these principles, especially to help to prevent and then resist the occupation of Iraq.

Currently, I’m focusing on ways to get involved with my community, now in the Philadelphia area, to take this experience and build on it.

Two years ago, in the spring, I was running the Cherry Blossom 10 miler. An annual race. I’m slow an usually enjoy running in the back with a juggler. About mile 8, I remember. A man passed me and on the back of his t-shirt there was a caption, something to the effect that he always had room at his table, for everyone. I liked the idea and wanted to learn more. I tried to run past him, to see the front. But as I went around him I heard someone say, “You have to work for peace.” I thought that was odd and turned around to see who it was. There was no one running nearby. The man with the t-shirt had disappeared into the crowd ahead.

I have very vague memories of a cousin going off to Vietnam when I was a little girl. I remember that I thought that the whole business was wrong. Something about killing people who disagree with you never made sense to me.

Last weekend, I saw that cousin at the annual family reunion. It’s a very modest reunion, pot-luck, no t-shirts or badges. Cousin and I were chatting about our children and before long he was going on about Iraq. I listened for a while, he has been in the military his entire life and has his perspective, which is very different from mine. After a while, he seemed to be saying the same things that I’ve read before. He stopped talking, waiting to hear my response. I thought about just not saying anything. I didn’t want to offend him and certainly didn’t want to start a scene at the reunion. Five years ago, I would have challenged him, but this time I paused and thought. I decided that I needed to say something, I couldn’t let some of him comments go without voicing my dissent, but the last thing I wanted to do was create an argument and make my grandmother or aunts or any of the folks gathered to celebrate family distressed. I said, “You know, I don’t agree with you. But I don’t think that we should discuss it or argue. Not now.” He smiled. “You know, we’ve disagreed about all of this for years.”

“I guess we have.”

We walked over to the buffet line and filled our plates together. We hugged at the end of the picnic, before we went home. I’ll see him next year.

I keeping asking myself, what does it mean? Working for peace?