Apr
9
Peace – When We Mature
April 9, 2008 | Leave a Comment
I am of the “Boom” generation, born six years after WWII ended. I grew up in a time of relative world peace; although I recall the Cold War and having to participate with my classmates in air raid drills. The siren would go off we would jump from our seats and duck under our desks. It was so much fun at the time—after all class work was disrupted. We would giggle and whisper to each other while curled up on the floor.
There were stories of people escaping from East Berlin, propaganda and lectures on how evil communism was. In our eyes, all Russians were bad. There hung over a dread of nuclear war. People built bomb shelters in their yards.
I suffered through my adolescence during the 1960’s. The baby boomers were making noise; not only with the rock & roll explosion (add to that the “British Invasion”) but also with protests against a war they felt they shouldn’t be a part of. We also voiced strong opinions of the faults of the previous generation.
That generation had been born in a time when even American society had definite classes. It seemed that you either had servants or you worked as one in one way or another. This generation loved America, a country that was isolated from the rest of the world. When wars began to erupt those new Americans felt strongly that they needed to help. December 7, 1941 came and they got their chance. Many in this country cheered when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor, many others still wanted to remain isolated.
America’s foundation had been as a colony of revolutionaries whose passion was to begin a new country. This was seen as radical, even treasonous. We can barely have a tiny inkling of their dedication, their willingness to sacrifice everything they owned and even their lives so that they could win the shining goal they pursued. We can understand their reasoning, and we know the history, but we can’t feel what they did. We do not judge them against the law; to the Founding Fathers we feel gratitude.
America became a haven for those escaping tyranny and poverty. At the time of WWII so many people living here still spoke the languages of their old countries. They had left behind the place, but had also left behind families and friends. When suddenly there were soldiers rounding up ‘undesirables’ and raining terror onto people who only wanted to live in peace, these Americans were outraged. They, and their family members born here, wanted to go over there and “kick tail”. That’s what they did. Theirs were personal victories.
We hear their stories but we weren’t there. We can never fully understand the deep resentment, the hatred of those nations that waged war in their attempt at domination. The methods they employed included invasion, theft, torture, and murder. Out parents’ generation was first hand witness to those things.
When I was in high school and needed to learn a foreign language I decided on German. I recall my mom’s expression of shock that turned to distaste when I told her. I will always remember what she said, “Don’t you know what the Germans did to the Polish people during the war?” I thought I knew. But all I had was a few hints, a mere rough idea. I also didn’t care, especially about her feelings. There was that slanted opinion against another people, just as she had stated dislike of the Japanese for what that nation had done. I was a child of the ‘60’s, and open minded. Her bias just made me all the more determined to learn the German language.
But I wasn’t open minded, was I? I was yet a child. I was starting my first drawing on a new sheet of paper. What I didn’t understand was that my mother had an extensive portfolio of wonderful art stored away. I didn’t understand this until I was much older. Finally, I realized that the immature contempt I held not only for my mother but for all of that generation was without foundation. I simply didn’t understand them or myself.
I’m not saying that racial, ethnic, or religious prejudice is justified for any reason. It definitely is not. It divides, it conquers. Only through trying to understand why the feelings are there, working out compromises, and then forgiving can we mature. That’s why there’s peace between my mom and me. This lesson should be learned by everyone. Then and only then can we all grow up. Then can we live in peace together and plan for a better tomorrow.
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