Theories "Just Peacemaking" much more than non-violence There is a compassionate rebel in everyone Healing the wounds Peacemakers Children can learn to be Peacemakers Local Peacemaker Makes a Difference The landmine issue Banning landmines: why the US won't sign the treaty Kids on the edge of a minefield |
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"Compassionate Rebel": Excerpts chosen by Carriann Mikish Disarming the toy box | A time to heal |IT WAS kind of scary. We stayed in barracks in the country among the villagers. My first evening in the mountains there was this great ruckus and fear that overcame us. We were told to line up and turn our flashlights off, that this was serious, to hand in our passports and follow each other up the hill. There was a huge AK47 outside our barracks protecting us. We knew that we were in a village being ambushed by Contras." "Word of Contras in the area spread quickly. A Brazilian Brigadista (coffee picker) came running down the hill yelling: 'Evacuation! Evacuation!' We (myself and 27 other North Americans) were organized into squads, numbered off and instructed to hand in our passports. We marched in silence... Where are we going? There are lots of coffee trees up here. That what we're here to do: pick coffee. But where does one hide from the Contra? As we stumbled up a gravel road with all our bags, those first moments of confusion and fear flashed in my mind. This was serious. I wanted to turn on my flashlight. Kerin?(my buddy) Kerin? Where are you?" "As we were ushered into barracks (later to be our home) a little girl whispered to us in Spanish, 'Don't be afraid, we have information.' I paced... I prayed. I began to feel angry. So this is what the US government chooses to do with our tax dollars. God help us. God help us..." "We came to Two Pines when we found out that these sacred sites were here and they had to be saved. We said at Sundance to be careful and pray for them. I prayed for the power to help the people. We always pray to the four directions, each one signifying a color of man: red, black, yellow and white. It also means the four directions (north, south, east and west) and the four sacred trees by the mulch pile and sacred fire. An elder heard my prayer and said, 'Get up and do what you pray to do.' We sang in the circle and smoked the pipe and prayed to the sacred trees that we could hold the pipe for the community. A couple of days later, a cousin of mine had a willow staff he prayed with and every time he touched the sacred trees, he saw a flash of light. "(One day) I went down to the sacred area and looked over the cliff. I heard a chanting:" 'Hun, hun, hun.' "I never saw anyone. I heard the chanting three times:" "I looked around but saw no one. I believe it was out ancestors calling out to us to stay here." "This is the greatest thing I've ever been involved in. You've got ecosystems preservation, issues of urban sprawl and development, land issues, squatting issues, native sovereignty issues and so much community spirit that keeps it going. This is a living community, anarchy in action. It is nothing that's ever been done before in America." "These are some of the best activists I've ever ever worked with, and the most beautiful people that ever lived. I've had so many days of getting so close to people. this is such a beautiful thing. I don't know how anybody could be against it." "Home is wherever you are at the time. I now consider this (Camp Two Pines) my home. that's why a lot of us are so deep into this. It's not just about stopping a road and saving a park and sacred sites. It's about defending our own homes." Disarming the toy box The small soldier glared at Teddy Copley from behind the camouflage, pointing his rifle at her face, spewing out the message of violence. Startled, she cringed, the grew red with rage. Then she fought back the only way she knew how. It had all begun so innocently - an annual fun birthday party for her six-year old by, Daschel, - the children's games, the cutting of the cake, the giggles and squeals of delight as presents were opened. Then came this gift - the wrapped action figure called Chip Hazard, from the new movie "Small Soldiers" and the words on the package assaulted her senses. Some moms might have let it go - after all it was just a toy. But Teddy Copley wasn't that way. As a young girl whose real world was often unbearable, Sheila Reigert (her maiden name) found herself in a frantic search for a different reality. "I sheltered myself from constant feelings of fear by reading a lot, losing myself in books, playing house, pretending things were okay through an imaginary family," she says. "I had a big imagination where I lived in myself. I had my own world inside that was good. Ultimately, that was what pulled me through the situation." "I thought of running away. Once I went to a friend's house for a week. But I was scared to do more. I did latch onto other adults who I felt fulfilled my needs--people I trusted to be with--a choir director at church, teachers at school. I found opportunities to spend time with them instead of at home. I threw myself into singing in the choir and working at church. That was another way of moving myself out of my environment to spend time away from home and with people I felt safe with. I would go to church just to show up there and meditate on thoughts, pulling myself out of where I was, meditating on how I was going to change things, how life could be different, trying not to thing of what was bad, but of good things..." "We didn't believe this could be happening in the US We got beyond the live of bayonets held fast by the National Guard and trained on us. I walked a couple of blocks after not being able to get through the line cordoned off on Michigan Avenue. I noticed that I was older than others in the demonstration. I also saw young National Guardsmen with their bayonets pointed at people. I stood there and said to them, 'You should be ashamed of yourself', and walked through the line. " "That's when I became disillusioned with politics. We were hauling kids away from mace, looking up at Vice-President Humphrey's window hoping he was looking out at the horrible things going on. his aide came to the window and pulled the shade down. Police in cars were running people against walls and jumping out and beating people. At that point, we were really in the peace movement. We were no longer just world federalist thinking, 'We're going to march for peace.' At the same time, we realized that this wouldn't be an easy job. there were so many powers against you." "At the Palmer House, we joined the Poor People's March sifting through the cordon to Michigan Avenue. I saw police coming out of corner streets. They surrounded people. there was no place to go but up. Young people kept yelling at me: 'You saw it ma'am, tell them like it is.' " "We got into the march. Anybody that had long hair and looked the least bit Hippie, they really got it from the police. we were all singing, trying to influence the democratic convention. " Some of the young people were already finished with politic, they were so discouraged. We had come to Chicago before the convention to negotiate with the police to try to tell them people were coming in and would be napping in the park. We know that there would be a Poor People's March. Those were really bad days. I remember saying to my children, 'there's a whole big world out there, we've got to do something.' " "I was in this little cubical about nine by eleven feet. There were two metal beds for me and my cell mate, a small desk and a metal cabinet. Outside was this oblong hallway with cells for about 300 women. Each wing had 32 women. It was all open. I could look into other cells. there was a common bathroom at the end of the hall. There was no privacy. A guard was watching you all the time carrying this big chain of keys. It's demeaning and punitive. If you rock the boat at all, you could be sent to a maximum security prison." "The prison guards would come in keys clanging and count us five times a day to make sure everybody was there. At 3 a.m. and at 5 a.m., every few hours, it would be stand up by your bed and be counted. You'd better not cover your head. they better know you're there. It was like counting cattle. Even when you had visitors they'd come and yell 'count time.' I think they wanted to know how many prisoners there were in the US that day..." A time to heal "Les Herring, a veteran from San Francisco, echoed the profound life transforming experience that we all felt that day: 'The day I stood on that knoll, planted my tree and embraced my former enemy, I became whole.' " When Mike Boehm stands on the hill overlooking My Lai nowadays, he can feel the peace. In the park and village around him, abundant fruit trees sway in the breeze, shaking their Litchi nuts towards the farmer's baskets; fish nets swish through the gently flowing river; and the patter of schoolchildren's footsteps bounces off the dirt roads. Boehm is more than just an observer of the peaceful hamlet. He is the one that made it happen. It hasn't always been this way. Thirty years ago in My Lai, all you could feel was war. The wailings of Vietnamese massacre victims echoed through the valleys and the subsequent decades-- a grim reminder of an international tragedy. Thousands of miles away, Mike Boehm was at war with himself, and losing. The parallel transformations of this Asian village and its savior have become the salve for healing deep wounds and turning former enemies into friends. For Boehm, the catalyst, it has meant a fresh start on life. Numerous men and children joined the throng as we walked together through the edge of town. Many of them wore sandals; many others were barefoot. All together, we numbered more than a thousand. Interspersed with the Indians, we handed flowers to those without them, conversed pleasantly with those near us and greeted residents watching the procession from their doorways and windows in their homes. A physician in our group walked hand in hand with a young Indian lad... We hiked on a high road and wide pathway along the lake shore and beside a rising mountain. Below were many women washing clothes on rocks at the lake's edge and clusters of fishing boats and dugouts resting upon the banks... we assembled under a shady canopy of trees encircling an open area... A little band with guitars and percussion played and accompanied our singing. Some of us held little Tzulil children on our shoulders." "Following ceremonial features by the old base, we walked back to the church. The sanctuary was packed with every bench full of people. Indigenous colors were everywhere. Indian women reached out in every direction moving to us seeking our hands. We felt truly accepted and cared for." "Just before the close... a white dove flew down from its perch on the high rafters and landed just over our heads! Perhaps this symbol of peace came forth to indicate a new era dawning in Santiago Atitlan. We very much hope so." (The day after Dr. King's assassination), "I walked into Central Jr. High. with tears in my eyes and anger and confusion in my heart. I met up with some friends in the halls and the question was 'What are we going to do?' " "I suggested a protest march down to City Hall. From that statement on, everything mushroomed into pure hell. We ran through the building knocking on classroom doors asking the students, 'Are you with us?' " "We left Central Jr. with about 60 students, crossed the football field to Central Sr. and gathered about 100 more students and I think a teacher or two. By this time I had more or less been drafted into leadership... By the time we got in front of City Hall we had well over a thousand students with us. The KCPD (Kansas City Police Department) had followed us the whole time and they gathered some of our leaders... and shuffled us onto school buses and transported us to a Catholic Church School called Holy Name... We were all packed into the basement of the church and told this is where we would get to say what we had to day. They even brought two local DJ's from KPRS radio. One of the DJ's had just taken the microphone on stage, when there was a large boom!" "The KCPD had fired a rear gas canister into the building through a window. Screams of panic were everywhere. When we started trying to find a way out, we found that all the doors had been chained from the outside. Kids were screaming and hollering for dear life. The lights went out and we found ourselves groping around the walls trying to find a way out. We found a door but it too had been chained from the outside. In frustration we began kicking and kicking until we knocked the door off its hinges... people began to pour through this small hole." "I was almost run over as I made my way to the top of the small staircase outside then fell on the grass close to the street next to a car... The police were headed my way. They were hitting kids with clubs and more gas canisters were going off. I took off running (until) I got home. The next day after school the police pulled up on us four cars deep, had us on the ground with guns to our heads and I was under arrest for inciting a riot... I was 14 years old at the time." |