Demonstrations

 

I've been demonstrating off and on most of my life: The Equal Rights Amendment, Vietnam, the Iraq War and more. For ten years on my walk home from where I worked, I passed the UN Geneva headquarters. Often there would be demonstrations for any number of causes. When I agreed, I'd spend the next 15 minutes to an hour joining them. 

There were times, along with an ironing board, I'd be on the street, trying to get people to sign petitions for different causes. I can't claim to have done it weekly or even monthly unless there was an issue that I really cared about.

I also called politicians regularly, not just my representatives but those that could make a difference. I would start, "I'm an expat and I vote." I wouldn't say in another district or state.

As I age, I'm less apt to go out and march. As a renounced American, I no longer feel I have a right to call American politicians.

The last time I went to a demonstration was over the Iraq War. My daughter arrived in Geneva the morning after it started. The pilot had announced the first bombing a couple of hours into the flight, she said.

"We're going to Bern," I said when I met her at the airport. Llara, said okay before asking why. She had been on demonstrations with me from the time when she was in a push chair through high school. 

We met up with friends and marched as the bombs continued to fall.

Does it do any good? I really don't know but I remember Nixon saying it affected him.

So today, my husband and I went to the demonstration at the UN. The Plaza was packed with people of all ages. Dogs joined the group.

We watched one woman with tears running down her cheeks giving an interview. Her family was in the Ukraine. 

Signs were in English, French, Ukrainian, and German. Blue and yellow dominated in clothing, face paints, flags. 

Signs were homemade.

One was subtle.

People swarmed around the Three-Legged Chair which will stay on the Plaza until all countries sign the anti-land mine treaty. All but a few countries have signed. Land mines, another example of man's cruelty to man.

The Geneva demonstration was one of many all over the world. Millions marched against the Iraq war, yet it went on and on and on and ...

When we left we passed two monuments dedicated to victims of other wars.

I think of the Peter, Paul and Mary anti-war song "Where Have All The Flowers Gone?" and the lyric, "When will they ever learn?"

I was born during WWII. I only remember the end and I asked why people were so happy. "The war is over," I was told. I didn't know what a war was, but I was happy they were happy.

Since then I've lived through too many wars or conflicts as they are called. When bombs drop and soldiers shoot guns, it doesn't matter what it is called. People are just as dead.

War had marked my 79 years. I'm tired of war. When will we ever learn.