Our Children and War

I wrote this well over a year ago, on the occasion of the high school commencement exercises for Master's youngest child -- His son. I'm not sure why I didn't actually post it then, but I found it in my drafts, and was moved by the words I'd clearly felt so strongly about on that day. As this political season winds up, now even more than then, these are words my heart needs to speak --

Yesterday we attended the commencement ceremony for Master's youngest. Three-hundred-sixty-plus young people, launched from one of the largest local high schools, headed off into their futures: caps and gowns and dreadful speeches and pomp and circumstance and all the rest of it. Our young Mr. J is a wonder and a joy, and he looked fine. We had Master, grandpa, and T (in a rented wheelchair for the sake of mobility on that still tender knee), and "our ex wife," and the elder child and her boyfriend, and young Mr. J's maternal grandmother -- all in attendance. Afterwards we headed off to dinner together and enjoyed the occasion in good spirits.

I notice I am increasingly cynical about things as treacly as "graduation" ceremonies, but that is, I'm sure the fact that I'm of a certain age.

However, there was one point at which I was beyond "cynical." I was completely incensed...

The principal gave the expected "principal" speech during which she ran through all the great achievements of this group of young people -- an impressive list. Then she took a few moments at the very end of her speech to list the future plans for this class: so many headed off to universities, some headed to study at the community college level, some headed to trade schools, others to employment in the community, and eight joining the military while one had received and appointment to a military academy. She then had those eight students stand up to be recognized.

I wanted to shriek.

I understand that our government holds our public schools hostage -- that there is the threat of withheld federal education dollars unless military recruiters are given access to our young people in their schools. Still, I find it unconscionable. And there they were. Eight young, impressionable people, who had been nurtured and cherished and protected through all their years of schooling -- given up, in the end, to be fodder in a mindless, fruitless, endless war.

I suppose those eight are a small percentage -- about 2% of the whole group. And, with luck, they'll all survive these next few months and years whole and strong and well. Still, I think that our schools should never, ever surrender even one of them to the war machine. We take them from their parents' hands when they are so young and vulnerable. We open the doors to wonder and understanding and curiosity. We cannot protect them from everything. This we have learned, painfully over the years. But let them leave our halls unmolested. If they are to choose the meat-grinder of this wicked war, then let them choose it AFTER they have finished with us.

swan