Personal Voices: The Beauty Mark

I was in elementary school when I first defended the environment. Boys were breaking killdeer eggs they had found in nests behind the school playground. I was this tiny little thing, running after the boys with their egg-breaking sticks.

My first political awakening came in high school when we protested an outdated dress code. A year later, I bought a POW bracelet with the name of a soldier missing in Vietnam written on it. The bracelet itched, but I kept wearing it until the itch turned into a rash that turned into an open sore that turned into an infection. Then I took it off.

After college, I moved West. Our peace group in a small town in Oregon worked on the periphery of the sanctuary movement and brought in a speaker from El Salvador who was seeking asylum in the U.S. I listened to his stories of atrocities and wrote about him; at night I had nightmares. A local minister who had been in a concentration camp in World War II wrote editorials about how awful our peace group was, saying we were nothing but a bunch of peaceniks -- as if that were the worst epithet he could hurl at us.

I continued working on peace and environmental issues although I saw no evidence that I effected any change. It was exhausting living amongst people who did not cherish nature and did not want to work for peace and justice for all people.

Then 9/11 happened. Despite protests by millions of people all around the world, the United State government started a war with Iraq. Immigrants were arrested and held without charge and without benefit of lawyers; some were deported. Stealthily and in plain sight, the administration began eroding women's reproductive rights. Throughout the country, the right-wing has gotten over 300 laws passed restricting women's reproductive rights.

Recently, Karen Hughes, one of Bush's advisors, linked those of us who are pro-choice with the terrorists. In an interview with CNN, Hughes said that since 9/11 people value life more, unlike the terrorists who don't value life, their own or lives of the unborn.

On Sunday, over a million people marched in Washington, D.C. in support of women's rights. We had our own march where I live. As we walked around town, mostly silent, I thought of an interview I had recently seen with Democratic Congressman Barney Frank. He said people in Washington, the people in power, don't care about demonstrations. He said you don't see conservatives out demonstrating because they know it's useless. The problem with the left, Frank said, is that they don't vote. People will call him up and complain about something and then tell him they don't vote. He says, so why should I listen to them?

I am tired. I don't know if I've ever been this tired. I'm tired of not succeeding. I'm tired of being surrounded by warriors and hearing stories of people dying overseas in a useless war or dying here from diseases caused by a stressed and polluted environment. I don't know what will work any more. I don't know what to do.

Last year right after the war started, my landlord came in and butchered the front part of a pine in our back yard. After my husband and I removed all the junk from under the tree, a barren patch of ground remained. I went to a garden place, bought a beautiful statue of Kuan Yin -- a goddess of Peace and Compassion -- and put her under the tree. I found flat stones around the yard and made two paths leading up to her. I planted hostas and primroses. I put some bleeding hearts right next to the goddess. A hummingbird flew up to the bleeding hearts and stuck her long beak inside one of the flowers. I had lived in this house for three years and had never seen a hummingbird here before. I stood very still, watching this beautiful being and feeling honored to be in her presence.