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Work 4 Peace,Hold All Life Sacred,Eliminate Violence! I am on my mobile version of the door-to-door, going town-to-town holding readings/gatherings/discussions of my book "But What Can I Do?" This is my often neglected blog mostly about my travels since 9/11 as I engage in dialogue and actions. It is froth with my opinions, insights, analyses toward that end of holding all life sacred, dismantling the empire and eliminating violence while creating the society we want all to thrive in

Sunday, October 16, 2005

doing grandma b proud!!!

Here I am in Iowa – and the REST STOPS have wireless internet connect! And it’s FREE! And I even figured out how to connect! My Grandma B (my dad’s mom) would be soooooo proud! (see previous entries re:iowa-ians & their rest stops!) Once again, Iowa is on the cutting edge!

Packing up my computer, heading to my truck I notice an older white woman, long blond hair, dull blue eyes, striding toward me. She demands to know if this is my truck & did I paint it. I claimed responsibility for the truck, the paint job, the words.

She told me “my son went to Iraq & died so you could have the right to paint these words on your truck.” I told her how sorry I was that her son was killed. Then I told her how sorry I was that her son was killed because we have a president who lied to him, to her, to all of us. I told her that her son did not die so I could have the right to paint my truck but he died because we have a president who lies.

She vehemently disagreed with me. I asked her if she knew about Gold Star Families for Peace, Cindy Sheehan. She dismissed all that with a casual wave of her hand, lumping it all together with her daughter who is in D.C. & has tried to talk to her too. But we’re all wrong, she insisted – I’m free to paint this on my truck & to drive freely around this country – not how it would be in Iraq.

I told her how free I am – how I’m subjected to name-calling at best, threats, slashed tires, truckers who try to run me off the road, white men who make obscene gestures & follow me around – is this what she means by freedom?

I tell her I am free to paint this on my truck because many, many, many brave people – mostly black & brown, & lots of white women and several white men – have fought for our rights & continue to fight.

She pulled the founding fathers card – this country was built on the search for freedom – I said no, this country was built on the genocide of the original people who lived here.

She told me I didn’t have to tell her about that – she was Cherokee – I step closer to her blond self & look deep into those washed-out blue eyes and tell her as quietly as I can “then you know the truth”.

She turns on her heel & stalks off toward the semi she’s driving.

Welcome to Iowa.


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