Washing Our Hands




Are our hands clean in the Iraq war in the latest cries for a course change? What is the real cost of war? What steps are necessary for the US to take to re-gain its place in the world as a real power broker and global super force? What does peace look like in the Middle East?

During this Thanksgiving break while giving thanks for living in the most blessed country on earth, I pondered the fate of the Iraqis peope. I was concerned about the increasing escalation of sectarian violence in Iraq and the US cries that the Iraqis must assume more responsibility for the security and governance of their country.


On some level this is almost ridiculous. Did we forget that we (US) invaded Iraq under false pretenses and that President Bush called for the death of its leadership? Did we just dismiss from our national conscience that under the USA's policy of eminent domain, we crushed the cradle of civilization and one of the oldest of social systems on the planet?

We have turned the lives of the Iraqi people upside down. We have nurtured and fostered a new generation of extremists and suicide bombers. We have caused collateral damage that we will never be able to explain or justify. We have rendered this society virtually powerless to be a self-governing democracy any time soon.


Let us remember that it is the USA's ill-conceived policy that has this country in a civil war and its rich heritage buried in the ruble of missiles, bombs and guns. And, remember too, that its US sponsored political leadership is ill- equipped and poorly trained to govern its people, institutions, and oppositional forces.

So, as I cut the turkey and sat down to a wonderful meal with my family, I wondered if the Iraqi people will come to know the peace we enjoy in this country? I wondered how many years it will take for them to overcome results of a 'Stay the Course' policy that decimated their culture? How about an earnest apology from the President for making a mess of Iraq: first to the Iraqis, then to the American people, and ultimately the world?

Voting in Virginia


As I waited anxiously to cast my vote, I was reminded of the many sacrifices, battles, and violence that occurred "back in the day" to ensure that people of color could vote. In a brief moment of reflection, I wondered if our ancestors who had fought so bravely and tirelessly for this right, would be proud of our modern day voting efforts.


After a long drive in the rain and bumper to bumper traffic, I found myself standing in line with 300-400 other people. Many of these people had waited for over two hours to vote. Their faces portrayed a kind of determination that said, "I am not leaving this place no matter what---- until I have had my say." So, we waited.

Despite the drive, the nasty weather and shortage of polling machines, the atmosphere was jovial and light. Little children played amusingly in the hallways. And as children do, they were the perfect entertainment for adults who were weary from the day. And for almost for every child, you could hear an adult go, “Aw, isn’t she cute."


Why would anyone wait two hours to vote? Since I had a little time on my hands, I asked. Michelle, a young woman whose mother had just gotten citizenship in this country from Columbia was determined to cast her vote. She was there, heavily, influenced by her father’s interest in politics and did not want to let him down. And there was Stacy, a bright African American woman, who said, "I want to make sure my voice is heard." I knew she was honoring our ancestors with all of her being. And, finally Kim, an young entrepreneur, simply replied, "we need a change." While the motivations were different: some personal, some borne out of a longing for better days and some committed to "regime change," we waited.

Finally, it was time to vote. I walked calmly to the voting machine and cast my senatorial vote. Immediately, my vote was credited to the other senatorial candidate. I could not believe my eyes. My vote mysteriously went to the opposition candidate not my candidate. WOW. Now, I saw how electronic voting can change a vote. Was it programmed to do this? Did I make an error when touching the screen? Or, was this just a fluke of some kind?

I knew that I did not make an error in touching the screen. I had been especially dutiful in this task. Something else was at work here. I reported it to the poll worker who simply said to tap it again to erase my selection and start all over. She was at a loss to explain what happen. I did as she instructed and entered my vote again. This time it properly recorded my senatorial vote. Suppose I had not been watching so carefully? Suppose I just accepted the touch screen's recording of my vote? Suppose this "error" was replicated all over the state or other states?

Well, no funny acting voting machines, or long lines, shortage of poll workers, intimidating poll watchers or short supply of voting machines were going to prevent this citizen from voting. And it was clear throughout the evening that the many hundreds of patient citizens were equally committed to the democratic act of voting.

I think our ancestors might just be proud of our voting efforts today. Well, at least, in this part of the country.