Arushi Sharma | Not in my backyard

'When you arise in the morning, think of what a precious privilege it is to be alive - to breathe, to think, to enjoy, to love."

These words of Marcus Aurelius, the stoic philosopher and Roman emperor from the second century, echoed in my head as I walked towards College Green last week. The quadrants of the lawns were lined with placards marking the deaths of Iraqis and Americans - a poignant display of the consequences of our War on Terrorism.

Reading the names on the placards, I felt guilty that I couldn't associate with what families of these people were feeling and neither could most of the other students who bustled along Locust that afternoon.

Aurelius really hit the nail on the head: What a privilege it is to be alive. But more so, what a privilege it is for America, that we can time and time again wage our life-robbing wars far away from our homes.

Even as we are inflicting huge casulaties on ourselves as a nation, many of us will never bear direct consequences of the war. Ann Scott Tyson and Josh White wrote on Jan. 2 for The Washington Post that "casualties have rippled across the American psyche - those close to the events have been profoundly moved, while those at some distance, the majority of Americans, have been largely unaffected."

Felicity Paxton, faculty fellow in the Contemporary Writing and Women's Studies program and memorial-installation organizer, said, our bodies "are not, generally speaking, on the line." It is not common for me or anyone else to ask friends every few days where their brothers, sisters, mothers and fathers are going to be tomorrow, next week, or in March.

Simply stated, the war is not in our backyard.

As a result, we think about the war with the same distanced concern as we think, for example, about the industrial waste we dump far away in developing countries: "Oh, we're really causing a problem. We should do something."

We, as an integrated society, will "do something" if industrial dumps sites show up outside our houses. We, as an integrated society, would "do something" about the war if our loved ones' caskets appeared outside our homes.

The troubling side effect of this situation is that there is a sense of complacency about the war as it "drags on." I'm not lobbying for us all to drop our books and enlist as military personnel, though it's obvious that radical actions will speak louder than any discussions we have about the war with our friends, family, and classmates.

Still, it frustrates me is that there is not enough verbal dialogue or acute personal concern in our society about what is easily one of America's bloodiest and controversial engagements since Vietnam. Thinking back to the week of the installation, I cannot recall more than one instance outside of a classroom in which someone brought up the memorial, let alone a discussion on developments in Iraq. As College sophomore Jay Patel said, "We [Penn students] don't talk about it much."

Of course, there are human-rights and political-interest groups, among others, who have an active interest in the war.

Last week I encountered dormmates watching the presidential address on Iraq, which was followed by a heated discussion. I was heartened to see flyers distributed on Locust Walk last Thursday advertising a protest on Jan. 27 in Washington, D.C.

The positive feedback Paxton got on the placards installation confirmed her view that students "do care very much, they just don't know where to begin or how to voice their opinions." But I think we, as students, historically fervent protestors and bristling youth of a free nation, jolly well know how to voice our opinions - it's just that we don't have enough of a reason to.

In this situation, it is incredibly simple, natural and human to become desensitized to streams of daily reports on Iraq. As College sophomore Anna Turetsky put it: "I disagreed about the war from day one, and therefore was sick of reading about it from day one."

But Iraq should never become old news. Make an effort to inculcate, revive or strengthen your interest in this war - while you earn your paycheck or your double major, read about people whose bodies are daily on the line, like 19-year-old Pfc. Ross McGinnis. McGinnis, from Pennsylvania, died on Dec. 4, 2006 when he threw himself on top of a bomb to save his comrades.

We are still at war.

Arushi Sharma is an College junior from Rockville, Md. Her e-mail address is sharma@dailypennsylvanian.com. A Case of the Mondays appears on Mondays.

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