War and Peace

Current mood: Crushed
Thoughts: How could I have been so naive?
Songs: My Weakness by Moby and Colorblind by Counting Crows

How could I have ever been so clueless, and why? My teachers and parents could never understand it: they acknowledged that I generally had very good grades in school and even passed the standardized tests well. Math was not my forte, but I got through it with some interest at least. However, there was one problem (and it was a big one). I abhorred HISTORY classes. During my first history classes in school I thought, "I can do this if I keep my focus". Focus was not a word I was able to apply (later I would understand why). The teachers talked about Presidents, Thomas Jefferson and electricity. We had classroom discussions about plantations, slavery and irrigation systems. I learned just about everything under the sun, and initially I did well with the knowledge.

Later, my teachers proceeded to discuss war and then peace, and then more war. During the very first mention of "war", I remember yawning more than twice every few seconds and then I did something strange: I went into a daze of distraction. I daydreamed: about my favorite toys, favorite friends, being a gymnast or ice skater, anything cotton candy coated and sweet. Each time any teacher talked about war, guns or crime from that point on, I did the same thing almost automatically: I went into a protective daze. If the teacher asked me a question I would make up the answer or even say something rude to distract her. I spent more time in detention or in the principle's office in first grade than any other student at school.

My parents had conferences about the issue, I was grounded a time or two, even held back a grade because of it. The teachers put me in a remedial class to see if that would help (even though I made A's and B's at that particular time). My mom had enough of that and had them test me and I passed with flying colors. I had no problem with tests, grades, school or teachers. My problem was something that no child could comprehend and very few adults wanted to know: I wanted PEACE.

Throughout the rest of my life I managed to avoid history classes: I took them and studied what I had to and barely made grades that would allow me to pass. I had to take all history classes in college TWICE because for some reason I couldn't bear to listen to it. Once out of school and into the real world, the same thing occured: if anyone talked about history I would point a deaf ear in their direction and go into another place in my mind.

No one could figure it out, not even myself! My mother somehow knew and understood, rarely chastising me for it. My father would say, "One day you'll get it honey. A light bulb will just go on in your brain and you'll want to know". I always imagined that to be something Dad said to pacify me and make me feel better about the situation.
I have been embarrassed to say that with the exception of the Holocaust, I cannot give you the dates or occurrences of any war or war-based scenario that has ever occured in our great country. I've been clueless. But as of yesterday, I learned why.

I married a republican: a hard core, gun collecting, President Bush supporting Republican. I have no issues with political stance because I've been so clueless regarding politics and always felt that one's political stance in life has very little to do with who they are in their souls. Even though guns make me uneasy, I found an unusual fascination for wanting to learn how they work and feeling the need for protection in an increasingly dangerous society. My husband was more than happy to oblige via teaching me how to shoot every single gun in his collection. Behind all of this was a fear deeper and more profound than any fear I have ever felt. The need to protect my family from a society who gobbles more booze and downs more prozac as each decade passes while teetering on the edge of terrorist attacks DAILY caused me to stomach my fears for years: until yesterday.

Yesterday my husband and nephew brought home a movie with one of my favorite actors in the lead role: Nicholas Cage. The movie is called "Lord of War". It followed the life of a gunrunner from childhood until the pivotal point in his career and life. As a young boy, Orlav (Nicholas Cage) had a fascination with guns but also found it increasingly important to protect himself (as I often do) during the Cold War. He found connections, became a gunrunner and became dramatically good at his job. He found schemes to pay off relatives in high places within the military and even had access to Intelligence to cover his rear in case he was busted with cargo. The more money he made, the more greedy he became.

As all of this was occurring, my first thoughts were: "Yeah? So what? They're just guns!" Then Orlav finally met the most challenging political connection in his life: the self-proclaimed President of Nigeria. The President was a cold-hearted killer whose soul lived only for money. At one pivotal point in the movie, Orlav's brother said to him, "Be careful with those things you sell. They kill: inside." That's when it hit me- HARD! In the following scene Orlav and his brother visited an area west of Nigeria to deliver two truck loads full of guns. They paid off the border guard and proceeded to meet with the president's connections to receive their diamonds in exchange for AK47s, the choice of killing at that time for Nigeria.

Orlav's brother happened to peer over the cliff where a tribe was being held captive by another tribe inside of more than two dozen tents. The men of the tribe appeared to have already been killed or perhaps lost their lives in a tribal war. Men who obviously belonged to another opposing tribe guarded the women and children to keep them inside of the tents. A child screamed in fear and ran out of the tent: he was probably no more than two years old. His horrified mother ran out to catch him and threw herself over his helpless little body to protect him. In less than ten seconds more than five men of the opposing tribe violently murdered the woman and her baby right there before our eyes. The brother ran back to Orlav to distract him from completing the deal. "Orlav, we cannot complete this deal. As soon as those men get these guns they're going to slaughter this entire tribe!", the brother screamed.

"This is none of our business...we're just here to sell guns. This is not our war", Orlav replies. The slaughter occured just like Orlav's brother predicted: with dozens of women, babies and children brutally shot right on the spot. I had been following the movie with some vague interest until this point, but then my eyes suddenly welled up in tears and I was "awake". For the first time in my life, I knew why I didn't want to know.

At the end of the movie, the gunrunner was busted finally by an FBI agent who had tailed him throughout the movie and wanted to get rid of all gun-runners in order to ensure the salvation of thousands of innocent children and women. This cop was a true humanitarian who had easily acquired my respect already. He glared at the gunrunner right in the eyes and said, "I live to put people like you behind bars. It's because of you that thousands of innocent young lives are taken every day- children as young as your own son!". The gunrunner returned his dead pan glare and replied, "The United States is one of the biggest gun-runners there ever was. They often need someone like me behind the scenes because the President's fingerprints on the guns might not look so hot for him. In a few minutes you're going to walk outside. There will be a soldier awaiting you who commends you on your fine performance and then asks you to release me."

The movie ends and we finally understand who is behind all the deaths: OUR OWN GOVERNMENT! <http://www.nisat.org> The entire U.N. is indirectly responsible for the loss of thousands of innocent lives. The movie ended and I expected some little popup warning that said, "The events shown in this film were purely fictional" or something of that sort. Instead the popup dictated, "This film was based on actual events". I gasped in horror and then silently walked into the restroom so I could cry without being seen by my husband and nephew. So many events flooded my brain: Rwanda in particular. I felt a mixture of guilt for having blocked it out of my mind for so many years, but then a deeper understanding of why I subconsciously did such a thing. My empathic sensitivity would not allow for my naive mind to comprehend such an atrocity.

I live in the biggest, strongest country in the entire world. But the freedom we so easily take for granted is not something I understood until recently. I enjoy it but at the same time I fear what goes on behind the scenes in other countries. I always wondered how and why Africa needs guns. When I saw children as young as my own oldest son holding AK47s and guarding the doors of their homes, my heart cried. Who supplied those guns? People from my own country! I'm appalled, heartbroken, and a little less dead inside regarding War and even regarding Peace.

Now I know, mind you, but a part of me wishes I did not. I part of me longs for that safe, candy-coated, naive place to which I used to retreat in my mind. The knowledge I subconsciously blocked out for the majority of my life is starting to seep through my mind and permeate my heart. What will I do with this knowledge? I'm not sure, yet. But my main question to myself is this: How could I have ever been so naively ignorant?