Progressive Wednesday

Truly Supporting Our Troops

Problem:

“We– aren't at war in Iraq and Afghanistan. Our soldiers are.

Both wars individually have gone on longer than the U.S. involvement in the War of 1812, Mexican War, Civil War, Spanish-American War, World War I, World War II, Korean War, and Persian Gulf War. There doesn't seem to be an end in sight for either.

Our fellow Americans are sweating and dodging, not just bullets, but bombs in the desert and on our behalves.

We know some of them personally. We miss them. We want them home.

You might be thinking: There's nothing I can do to help stop the wars. That's too big for me to tackle. We respectfully disagree, but that's not the problem we're talking about this Wednesday.

We owe our soldiers more than we can repay them. That's the problem.

- – - – -

Make Progress:

Diane was a student of mine at Ohio State. During the autumn quarter, Diane asked to be excused one Friday. Why? Because she was going to marry her boyfriend before he was shipped off to Iraq. Most of my students asked for time off because their friends needed to be bailed out of jail or because their Great Aunt conveniently died for the seventh time right before a paper was due. So, Diane's request couldn't possibly be refused. And she and her one-and-only did indeed wed.

After winter break, Diane signed up to be in another of my writing courses. This quarter, she seemed transformed. Some days she'd be filled with a kind of bubbly hope, the kind you see in people truly in love. Other days, she'd snap at fellow students, fall asleep in class (surprising since it started at 2 pm), and miss office hours appointments she'd scheduled with me. While discussing one of her papers, she started crying, dropped the paper in the trash can, and slowly walked out of the room backwards.

Come spring, I could tell Diane was a wreck. She pulled me aside on the second day of course to ask if it was okay if she left class every once and a while. I thought this was strange because my students never had to ask to go to the restroom, grab a snack, or get a drink of water. Hell, they could even take off for a minute or two to stretch if they needed to. “I need to leave sometimes,– she said, “to go outside and cry.–

And she did. Often. I'd say at least twice a week. Of course, she also missed at least one class a week. As the quarter moved along, Diane would forget to turn in assignments completely or would just turn in one page for a five-page essay. She'd pop by my office hours just to talk about the latest letter she'd received from her husband. She'd ask me to read them. Over the course of the year, I watched her weight dramatically drop to unhealthy levels.

Summer came and went, and the next autumn I saw Diane on campus the first day of classes. She smiled at me with her lips. I assumed her husband had returned. He hadn't.

“I got divorced,– she told me. “I just couldn't take it any more. I love him. But it stopped being worth it. The love, I mean.–

This is a cost of war. This is one side of war.

But this Wednesday, the day after the four year anniversary of the War in Iraq, we're going to look closely at war from the other side. Please, we know it's easier to do, but don't look away.

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Wedding picture c/o this photographer.