WHOSE CHILD IS THIS?

By Anthony J. Marsella

Photo: Courtesy of Dr. Amer Hosin

Whose Child is This?  Whose child is this?  Is this child an Iraqi . . . an Israeli . . .  a Chechnyan . . . an Afghani . . . a Kurd . . . a Nigerian?   Is she or he English, Indonesian, Spanish, Lebanese, Turkish, Congolese, Bosnian, Persian?   Does it matter?  Is this child not a daughter or son to each of us?

Is this child not a human being born of a union of a man and woman whose intimacy, whose passion, whose very breathe yielded a life that sought only to live . . . to enjoy some moments of laughter and delight, some moments of comfort and calm . . . to make yet another life.

Now this child rests amidst the dust and debris of war . . . lifeless . . . torn and shattered . . . killed by someone whom she or he never knew, and would likely never meet.  Death from a distance. . . a bomb from a plane, a shell from a mortar, a strap of explosives . . .  intentional and willing, calculated and planned, a measured effort to destroy.

The Source:  an agent of death and destruction, a pilot or soldier, an insurgent or terrorist . . . does it matter? They have killed their own child . . . they have killed our child.  And in doing so, they have diminished each of us as human beings, each of us as creatures of consciousness and conscience, each of us as reflections and carriers of life.  Words cannot console her or his parents, if they, indeed, survived this horror. They are left with only endless pain . . . memories of a child eating, sleeping, playing . . . a reminder of a tragic moment inscribed in mortar and blood.

Enough!  Enough!  Stand, speak, write, act against those who advocate violence and hate no matter the source — be they presidents, prime ministers, generals, terrorists, mullahs, rabbis, dictators, ministers, true believers . . .  tell them that we do not share their quest for power and greed.   Tell them we do not share their hate, nor their blindness and indifference to suffering.  Tell them we do not share their empty post-tragedy rhetoric designed to keep us mired in the fulfillment of their selfish needs. We are not pacified and contented by their explanations and assurances. We challenge and contest their motives!  We resent and resist their excuses. How shallow their words in the face of dying or dead child.

THIS IS OUR CHILD!  Today, we claim this child as our own, too late to keep her or him alive, too late to know her or his hopes and dreams, too late to know the promise and possibilities of their life had it been given the chance to be lived free of oppression, abuse, and indignity.

But we are not too late to affirm to all living children that we will try to protect you, to guard you, and to shelter you from the terror of war and violence, and from an untimely, painful, and meaningless death, by choosing peace over war, compassion over violence, voice over silence, and conscience over comfort.

Note:  I first wrote this brief appeal in July, 2005, following a conference in Savannah, Georgia, in which Dr. Amer Hosin shared photos of death and suffering in the Middle East.  I emailed this appeal in the December holiday season, when the poignant holiday carol, “What child is this?” is played endlessly on radio and television, testimony to Christian faith, but indirectly testimony to the consequences of violence against children, and the reality our hope for recovery and redemption reside in children – all children!

Today, as I viewed the now iconic photo of the stalwart Syrian boy, covered in dust, his mind and body shattered by bombs he could never fathom, and I recalled the iconic photo of the naked Vietnamese girl escaping napalm.  I decided I must share this appeal today.  It is upon all of us. What can we do to stop the destruction of life? What can we do end the reflexive response of violence and hate toward those we deem enemies.

I say to you, I plead with you now: “Hate begets violence, and violence begets hate, and always innocents become the victims.” We use the word “hate” daily, casually expressing our so often disgust or revulsion with something as benign as broccoli, or an athletic team.  “I hate __________!

The powerful emotion of “hate” has escaped our conscious awareness! We “hate” too much, too often, too easily; the consequences of the word and the behaviors it implies are lost to us.  Ask: Do I have a right to “hate?” Is “hate” a choice? What do I mean when I say I “hate”!  Stare at the image of a dead Iraqi child? Embed the image of the struggling shocked Syrian boy in your mind. Make room for it!  It is more important than so many other images you hold.

Ask: Whose child is this? He or she is your child! If you deny this reality, then await the day the face returns to remind you of your failure, to haunt your minds as you look at your child.

Anthony J. Marsella, August 19, 2016

 

 

Two Paths in the Wood: “Choice” of Life or War, Part 1

“Choice:” Poetic, Personal, and Political from guest author Dr. Anthony Marsella.*

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both. . . .  Somewhere ages and ages hence,
Two roads diverged in a wood,
And I . . . And I took the one less traveled by. And that has made all the difference. 

Robert Frost, Pulitzer Prize-winning American poet (1874-1963)

Literary critics have written a lot about this popular Robert Frost poem. All seem to agree that the essence of Frost’s poem is the importance of “choice” in the absence of any knowledge of possible consequences the making of an important decision without knowing the likelihood of the outcomes. This decision requires the willingness to choose, based on personal confidence, trust, and, perhaps more than anything else, courage.

Critics suggest Frost expressed in his poem that there was no better path, but rather that “choice” is our daily reality Choice is always present. Choice is inherent in the nature of human life, and forms the basis for individual and social morality. Unlike other species that rely on reflexive, inborn fixed-response patterns, humans have the capacity for choice, although there may be little conscious awareness of this special capacity. As life unfolds, the consequences of our choices reveal the wisdom (i.e., fulfillment, satisfaction, comfort), and/or regrets (i.e., remorse, penitence, guilt, trauma) of our life.

I chose Frost’s poem as a departure point for a choice all humans face at this time in our world; in my opinion, the choice is between endless war or nurturing and sustaining life. Here I could substitute the word “peace,” but I am uncertain at this point what peace means. People, societies, and nations use the word peace with impunity to benefit their own needs, rather than as a source of mutuality, an enduring condition in which violence, destruction, and war are refused. Enough!

I am asking for a world free of strife, suffering, agony, and endless pain and grief. The apocalyptic horses are exacting their legendary tolls of poverty, famine, disease, and war, amidst threats of extinction, disposable lives, and the exhaustion of natural resources. We are living in the Anthropocene Era  (age) in which human behavior, shaped by choice, is the dominant force that shapes our world’s survival. The two greatest capacities of humanity — consciousness and conscience—have yielded to denial and avoidance in favor of reflex and impulse. Cui Bono?

 *Anthony J. Marsella, Ph.D., Emeritus Professor, Department of Psychology, University of Hawaii. Dr. Marsella’s essay was originally published by Transcend Media Service at https://www.transcend.org/tms/2014/10/two-paths-in-the-wood-choice-of-life-or-war/ . We will publish excerpts from it intermittently over the next few months.

 

More than graduations and weddings

June is Torture Awareness Month.

It is a good month to put yourself in the shoes of another, particularly someone who is being tortured. Right now, as you read, in all likelihood someone is being tortured at the behest of the U.S. government.

Have you ever struggled to catch your breath, choked on food or drink “going down the wrong way,” panicked, feared you would die?

How much worse would it be if someone were deliberately drowning you, pouring streams of water over your face as you lay strapped to a board with your hands and feet bound, punching you in the stomach to make you open your mouth and gasp for air?

What would you do in this situation if you were told to name names, any names, or prepare to undergo the procedure again and again and again, each time nearly drowning?

Since 9/11, hundreds if not thousands of people have been arrested and tortured but then released because there was no evidence of any guilt, not even by association.

Remember the McCarthy era and its Cold War paranoia about Communist infiltration? Americans “gave up” names of friends and family members who were no threat to anyone, just to keep their own jobs and to feed Senator Joe McCarthy’s thirst for power.

That was a shameful era in this country, when ordinary people tolerated years of threats to democracy and human rights, personally betraying perfectly innocent others.

Consider how much worse it is today to ignore government-sanctioned torture of other human beings — and to justify that so-called enhanced interrogation in the name of democracy. Is behavior that defies international law and all human rights principles truly a pathway to democracy?

Please check out these resources:

Consciences need exercising. June is a good month to exercise yours.

Kathie Malley-Morrison, Professor of Psychology