Generations of Objectors

As I grow closer to thirty and my Dad grows closer to sixty I have more and more moments when I am certain that we have very little in common. Last summer I found myself in the defining state of my age group: over-educated and very under-employed. After taking a realistic look at my finances and options I decided that moving home with my family and returning to school for a teaching certificate in English Education was my most viable option. Mom passed away at Christmas 2006. While we are all devout Christians my family members and I all have a little different take on politics and social issues. The household now consists of Dad, a very conservative and fundamental baby boomer, and yours truly, his spinister daughter who seems to become more and more left-leaning with every passing moment. Needless to say, he and I have had a few "discussions" on church doctrine, post-modern society and the competency of our government. All of that, of course, falls behind the most popular topic: when and how I plan to achieve stability in my lifestyle and profession. I love my Dad.

I thought that commonalities between us were becoming even more sparse until recent global events (plain English translation: that quagmire in Iraq that our "fearless leader" just can't stop stirring with his big stick) have become more frequent topics of conversation. A couple of evenings ago I was sitting at the bar in the kitchen reading the paper while Dad was cooking dinner. In case you don't pay attention to the papers most of the dailies have a small box some where on the front page with the number of the U.S. war dead in it (maybe they like to make it as inconspicuous as possible). I was reading the numbers and telling Dad about a story that I had read last week about an army reservist who was suing the U.S. military to stop his FIFTH deployment (www.kirotv.com/news/13677999/detail.html). Dad rolled his eyes, shook his head, and said "This war is a mistake and a mess." We have had a couple of conversations about whether or not it was necessary to send a generation into this conflist and they always end with the same sad conclusion. Mom once told me that our generation would pay dearly for the misjudgments of our government. They both knew what they were talking about. My parents lived through the Vietnam Era. Dad missed the draft because of a bad eye and a student wavier but he saw the effects in a couple of men in his fraternity house that had returned from the war. Mom's older brother did not return and her family has never received his reamins. They both saw the aftermath of bad judgement in high places in the communities around them. Eight years ago I found my uncle's name on the Vietnam Memorial in DC and made an etching of it for my Mom and aunts. I felt ambiguous about the experience-you can not look at that wall and regard it as an entirely proud object. When Dad and members of his generation say "this was a mistake" I think that there is experiential wisdom in that statement. I also think we may have a little more in common than what I find in my normal evaluations.