I was born into an Air Force officer’s home and grew up with the roar of jets taking off and landing all day and night. When I went off to college in Virginia, the quiet seemed strange, and I felt homesick for the air base. After I graduated, I moved to Portland, Ore., to be with my family while my father was away on a training mission in Vietnam. Within a year I had fallen in love with Randy, a pacifist and conscientious objector to the war, and married into a family that could trace its Quaker heritage back generations.
While other couples fought about money or sex, we fought about the military and pacifism. I thought he was arrogant and self-righteous; he thought I was stubborn and deluded. We argued whenever the topic came up–while we were driving, getting ready for bed, eating dinner. We finally agreed to disagree, but I still felt compelled to understand Quakerism. I wanted to know whether pacifism came from faith in God or a desire to escape the pain of sacrifice.
I enrolled in a class taught by a Quaker philosopher and learned that the belief was inspired in part by Jesus’ words “Blessed are the peacemakers,” and his refusal to engage in violence, even as a last resort. Quakers will not fight, but neither do they sit passively by. Instead, they search for alternative solutions to war and ways to provide humanitarian aid. From my studies, I realized that I was a peacemaker at heart.
I became a Quaker minister, and now I teach at a multidenominational seminary where I am a liaison between military chaplain recruiters and students. Some of the students wonder how I can do my job given my beliefs. I tell them that my belief in nonviolence doesn’t diminish my respect for those who serve, as my father did, in the armed forces and are committed to the founding principles of our country at all costs. I consider them heroes.
So does my son, Jesse, who joined the Air Force after months of private discussions with my dad. He didn’t tell my husband and me until he had been accepted into Officer Training School because he was worried about our reaction. We were surprised but pleased at how excited and focused he was about his future. He is training as a navigator, and nothing makes our day more than getting news of how he did on a test or flight. He enlisted before September 11, and when my husband asked him whether he regretted his decision he said, “I signed up for the whole thing. What kind of person would I be if I pulled out because things are getting tough?”
Some of my Quaker friends are sad for me and think that somehow I failed as a parent. They say gravely, “How do you feel about your son’s being in the military?” I tell them I feel proud. I tell them that Jesse loves what he is doing and believes he has made the right decision about his life.
My daughter Sarah is a staunch pacifist. Even before the Iraqi war broke out, she was holding up a peace sign and marching downtown with her 3-year-old son on her back. Some of my non-Quaker friends thought it was funny and wondered how I felt about having a daughter who does silly things like that. I told them I felt proud. Sarah used her voice to send a message to our leaders. She believes that what she is doing is important to the freedoms and values of this country.
I accept my kids’ different perspectives, even though they have sometimes struggled to do the same. When we sent troops to fight in the first gulf war, tensions ran high around our dinner table between Jesse, my middle daughter, Susanna, who is also a pacifist, and Sarah. My husband and I let them hash out their differences, but we always encouraged them to respect one another. That approach seems to have paid off. Our family, including Sarah and Susanna, flew to Alabama for Jesse’s commissioning last summer. There we were, a row of Quakers beaming proudly while my dad gave the oath to Jesse asking him to swear to defend the United States of America.
All of my children have thought deeply and carefully about the tensions and paradoxes between military action and pacifism. They have chosen to actively live in a way that reflects their values. As a family we feel blessed and enriched because we have learned to hold both these worlds together with love and respect.
I wish my fellow citizens would treat each other the same way. It pains me when I see pacifists burning the American flag or hear war supporters accuse pacifists of being unpatriotic. I hope more Americans realize what my family has: the more we stretch the stronger we are.
