I'm warning you all up front. I'm writing this blog from my soapbox.
I went to mass Sunday morning (sadly, yes, my attendance is sporadic enough that it's worth mention). There's a point in the mass where the congregation present their petitions to God. The lector reads aloud a list of specific causes or requests, and after each one everyone responds with "Lord, hear our prayer." One of the petitions they've been doing every Sunday for, sadly, years now is a special prayer for the servicewomen and men of our parish who are fighting in Iraq.
I've talked about my neighborhood here before. It's in the midst of being gentrified, but Jackson Heights is primarily a working-class to lower-middle-class neighborhood, mostly families, largely immigrants. And my church has eleven soldiers in Iraq right now. ELEVEN. The first time I heard the list, I thought "It's lovely that they do that." And then the list just went on and on.
I'm going to go out on a limb here and guess that there's not one church in any wealthy suburb in America that has eleven kids fighting in Iraq. That when our politicians go back to their posh homes in their tony neighborhoods, their neighbors are not the ones getting shipped off and shot at.
The idea that we're fighting a war that's seemingly without end, that we entered under false pretenses, makes me sick. The fact that men and women are dying every day makes me sick. The fact that there's such a complete disconnect between the people calling the shots and those paying the consequences makes me sick.
One of my cousins spent some time in Iraq, and while he was one of the soldiers who was lucky enough to come home, he'll never be the same again. We're hoping that some day he'll be okay. And even that feels like a stretch right now. We've never been close, but I wrote to him while he was over there. And the letters he wrote back were haunting and horrific. I support our troops completely. But I support bringing them home. This mess is our burden, our resposibility, and our shame. And I'm ashamed.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Iraq
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
8 comments:
I have no other words than wow.
I'm with you Laura.
Oh, I have words. So many of them. I'm so angry about this, and I've been angry for five years. Bookgirl, you are so right. It's not the sons and daughters of politicians, or of the upper class that are actually profitting off this war that are out their putting their lives, and physical and emotional well-being on the line for no good reason. It's deplorable.
Not that all members of the upper class are profitting off the war. But the ones selling the army supplies and military weapons, and the people making money off the oil we've secured, they should be the ones getting shot at.
Soapbox suits you.
The husband's cousin is on his third tour. We aren't close so I can't say him being there has hit home, necessarily.
That said...
A close friend of ours deploys next month. He leaves here his wife and two girls, ages 5 & 6 - close friends of my kids. We anticipate lots of meals with them while he's gone.
He won't be front line, he's in intelligence, but the prospect of going is still terribly frightening.
Thanks for the support, everyone. And J, if your friend's a reader, make sure you send me his address once he's over there.
Bookgirl, this is a wonderful post.
PS. Thanks for the comment you left on my blog.
Post a Comment