"If you have somebody in your dorm who's a blowhard-and this is off-the-wall-carry one of those army-recruitment posters and tell them: 'Sign up - you can even use my pen.'"
As Jeff Garis , founder of the progressive group Penn Action, concluded his remarks, the crowd in Logan Hall on Monday night erupted in applause. They were on hand for a town-hall-style forum entitled "Exiting Iraq: Military Experts Speak Out." The panel discussion included a former general and congressman, as well as an ex-marine who took part in the invasion.
I watched as the diverse and at times testy audience got what it came for-a thorough repudiation of the occupation of Iraq. One woman even shouted "Bush is bastard!" in a thick accent as the speakers documented the extent of the current quagmire.
But it was up to the fiery-haired Garis (an erstwhile Mennonite minister) to tell us what to do about getting out. He began succinctly: "Raise hell." However, the boilerplate suggestions (contact representatives, complain, lather, rinse, repeat) soon grew tiresome.
After the meeting, Garis and I talked about the "economic draft"-the military's use of financial incentives to target prospective college students. This was a far more interesting subject. Susan Mac-Bride, of Philadelphia MoveOn , chimed in on the allure of programs such as ROTC. "I talked two sons out of it. It takes constant pressure," she said, noting that if you sign up "you lose your freedom."
Garis' army recruitment suggestion didn't sit well with Zac Byer, president of the Penn College Republicans. I asked him how he would respond if someone put his commitment to the war on the line in such a fashion: "I'd be pretty offended. It makes a mockery of those men and women who serve." "I have considered serving somehow," said Byer, "just not in a combat position."
Tuesday was the 11th. Rows of tiny American flags sprouted up from the undulating grass of College Green-an Arlington Cemetery of red, white and blue. At 9:11 p.m., a small crowd assembled in front of College Hall for a vigil held by the College Republicans.
Josh Roberts, a College junior from New York, spoke reverently about his FDNY brethren who inspired him to become a volunteer fireman.
I was struck by the messianic quality of his language: "They died for all of us," he intoned, "Remember them." Glowing candles heightened the religious atmosphere, as did the Glee Club's hymn-like rendition of the National Anthem.
Afterwards, several students approached me as I brandished my notebook. Vanessa Cheng , a junior in the Nursing school, was attending class as a freshman in Stuyvesant High School in lower Manhattan when the planes struck. She walked all the way back to her home in Queens. "Many of us were motivated to become doctors," said Vanessa of her and her classmates.
Here were the healing responses that represent the spirits of America and Penn at their best. As students knelt to collect the flags by lamplight, part of me wanted to be drawn in to the patriotic cult, to claim the atoning power of the medics and firemen for my own, cynical self.
Then I remembered what Sgt. John Bruhns , a veteran of Operation Iraqi Freedom, had said at the town-hall meeting the previous night: "my patriotism was used." Bruhns re-enlisted after 9/11 out of a sense of duty to his country. Yet his sacrifice was abused by an administration that used the tragedy to bludgeon the nation into a misdirected war. He saw firsthand the destruction that resulted from the fictitious association of 9/11, al Qaeda and Iraq. "I've lost friends in Iraq," Bruhns said. "I've taken life in Iraq. This is unacceptable." He gripped the podium, sans jacket, seemingly at a loss for words: "We really need to change, people."
Two-thousand, nine hundred seventy-seven Americans died in the 9/11 attacks. Three thousand, seven hundred seventy-four have already fallen in Iraq. And that's not even counting the Iraqis. I don't exactly know what change ought to look like, but if next September 11th rolls around and we're still in Iraq, you won't find me holding a candle. I'll be holding a sign that says something like "Get Us Out Now." You had better be there with me. In fact, we should probably be out there right now. Don't have a sign? Here, take my pen. Go make your own.
Stephen Krewson is a College sophomore from Schenectady, NY. His e-mail is krewson@dailypennsylvanian.com. The Parthian Shot appears on Fridays.
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