Doing Your Part
I was a hippie during the early seventies. Well, somewhat. I didn’t live in a commune. I didn’t take acid every day. Only once in a while. But I was a member of the Vietnam War resistance. We made signs and chanted, “Hell no, we won’t go.” And “Make Love, Not War.”
In this current political climate of 2025, at first people did nothing. They had no regard for the larger picture. They had their heads in their phones, they isolated in rooms, texted friends and ignored the fact that something was off. Very off. That changed. It took a hell of a lot to get millions of people to get their butts off the sofa and into the streets, calling out for justice, but it happened. The question is, why did so many more people protest the Vietnam War than the number of people on “No King’s Day.” The way I see it, the answer is “The draft.” Our signs said, “Draft Beer, Not Students.”
In the 1960s and seventies, American men between the ages of 18 to 26 were entered into a lottery and the unlucky ones were forced to defend their country in a war they didn’t believe in. If they refused to go, they ended up in jail, so they came up with wildly creative ways to fail the physical exam and avoid being deployed:
Pretending to be gay.
Pretending to be injured.
Pretending to be mentally ill by talking nonsense.
Being a conscientious objector due to religious beliefs.
Burning draft cards.
I know a man who wrapped his feet in saran wrap for a week to create out of control athlete’s foot. I know another man who moved to an island off Canada. They weren’t shirkers. They just didn’t want to die. We didn’t want them to die. We all had personal stakes in that war. We didn’t want to lose our husbands, sons, brothers, cousins, uncles and friends.
Now, some fifty six years after the punishing protests against the Vietnam War, I turned on the TV and it looked familiar. People holding signs and chanting catch phrases. Cops wearing shields, using tear gas and pushing people around because they were exercising their right to be an American. It felt like Vietnam all over again.
I am passionate about what’s happening right now but I didn’t go out in the streets this time. I did my part in a different way. I worked behind the scenes to encourage people to stay centered and avoid slipping down the negative spiral. I reminded them and myself that the light exists behind the clouds and the more of us who reach for it, the more it expands and becomes accessible. At times, I feel like a hypocrite when I fall into the dark hole myself, but I turn to friends who give me the same encouragement I offer other people.
Michelle Obama entreated us to do something but that doesn’t always look how we picture it. When Buddhist monks meditate for long periods of time in a cave, it appears that they are doing nothing, but they are cultivating qualities like compassion and mindfulness and sending them out into a world gone mad. They are encouraging a societal shift toward greater empathy and compassion. Sitting in silence for long periods of time is deeply challenging as they dedicate their time to send healing wishes to all sentient beings. I’m not suggesting you sit in a cave. We live in a different reality than that. I’m just reminding everyone that there are many ways to do our part.
I was raised to “take care of Number One” so that was what I did. Until I woke up. I’m ashamed to tell the following story but it’s true and spilling it makes me feel better. In the 1980s, a friend of mine owned a spa in Desert Hot Springs. There was a group of us who stayed there most weekends and we all had dinners together. I don’t cook so I wasn’t sure what to do. I set the table and did the dishes but it didn’t occur to me to buy a dessert or give someone some money. It wasn’t a case of entitlement. I was programmed to avoid paying whenever it was possible and no one called me out on it.
After a few months, I suddenly realized what I was doing, or should I say, what I wasn’t doing. I wasn’t doing my part. I was mortified, I apologized, and I changed my behavior. I decided not to beat myself up in an already difficult situation. We hurt ourselves more than anything else can. But after that, I paid more than my share to make up for it.
Life is messy right now, to say the least. There is deliberate chaos everywhere and not getting entangled in it is an act of courage. But we can do our best to go a different way. We are all in this together, we are fellow travelers and we can help each other avoid sitting on the living room floor and having a meltdown If you can protest in a crowd, do it. If you can’t protest in a crowd, instead of feeling guilty, think a little deeper and find another way. Don’t add guilt on top of pain. The most difficult times are the ones we give ourselves. Just see where you can give and do it. And do it again.