Shinny Happy People

I did something this morning I don't know that I should have done. I texted my friend Hari after hearing on NPR that Obama visits Dobson High School in Mesa today at 10:15 a.m. Only three other states exceed the number of foreclosures in Arizona; hence the president's visit.

Hari is not in real estate. He is not in danger of losing his apartment on Rural. I have been to this place; the living room is a jungle of bike and bike parts. He has a garlic hill in the back. He likes to invite people over for tea and to meet his compost. When I first met him at an art & activism panel a year ago, he had just cut up his army uniform and pulped it into paper for an art peace (spelling intended) on campus. Back then, he looked like Brett Scallions, the original frontman for Fuel, with tawny hair down to his shoulders. (Does anybody still remember "Hemorrage (In My Hands)" and the even better "Shimmer"? We're talkin' the turn of the millenium, people). Now, that same hair he chopped off at an anti-war protest in Denver has since grown back into a carpet of brown, and he now resembles a friendly, lanky, cartoon moose.

I texted Hari about Obama's visit because Hari has fought in Iraq. He is a member of Iraq Veterans Against the War (IVAW), and stays awake at night because of the things he's done to people he never wanted to hurt. I will never know what that is like. Anything related to the war~ protests, lectures, you name it~ he's there. The last time I hung out with him, he opened the door to Devotchka's tour bus to convince the band to give him 30 seconds on stage to ask the audience to please help his friend Matthis in his refusal to return to active duty abroad. He faces charges from the army~ under the overarching command of President Barack Obama~ on March 12. After being turned down and reamed out by various people at the venue (The Clubhouse's promoter, a friend of the band's, the band's [tour?] manager), he berated himself for not bringing IVAW information and for not being "more prepared." Unable to enjoy a band whose music he continues to support, he went home. This is a man who will not rest until the troops come home.

I am inspired by his relentlessness, his dedication, his sense of justice. But I have a habit of signing up for fights that are not mine, and without knowing all the information. This is not the story of Hari, sadly, but the story of me.

Obama plans to double the number of combat brigades in Afghanistan, having deployed his first troops (17,000 new soldiers and Marines) yesterday. I am more fearful than ever about what this means for all of the men and women in ROTC, for all those who have been deployed...for all those who, like Hari's friend, are given orders to reactivate their duty when they have killed and don't believe in killing. I fear for all those who return even more damaged than Hari.

My own ignorance continues to ambush me. I don't believe in "just peace." But let's face it: this war against terrorism seems dubious, and I am terrified for the fervor and the money and the enticement and the fear that the military brings. My friend Venita's 17-year-old nephew just joined.

Yet, we need soliders. A nonexistent American army does not mean a nonexistent Korean one, or nonexistent Afghani one. Although I believe Hari should have had his 30 seconds, I can see why the band and the venue were all hesitant. There's a lot riding on any kind of political statement or action, and there's something to be said about inserting yourself in the right place and at the right moment. Obama is in Arizona today to talk about the housing crisis. He just signed into law a new economic stimulus. My moral quandry is in that I don't know that I should have nudged Hari in the direction of a possible anti-war statement when the president is here for different reasons.

As someone with a history of wobbly participation in "leftist" causes (Purdue Organization for Labor Equality, for which I was treasurer, but deemed myself too busy to research our campaigns and was decidedly dubious about the effectiveness of rallies and the phsyical implication of hunger strikes in the name of solidarity)...for someone who used to teach rhetoric, I think something (much) about me needs to change. When will I stop fearing my own inadequacy?

Anybody else ever overwhelmed by how much there is to know, about just one thing? Where can I go to understand if we need this war?