A Trip That Changed Me from Ask Me Anything
My Internet friend, R. Scott Jones, asked - What's one place you've traveled to (or perhaps an entire trip) that changed you? Tell us how you changed because of it, and why you think it inspired that change.
I've lived for all but a very short period of my adult life in the same southern military town where I went to high school. Most of my vacations have been to the beaches or mountains of the same state I live in. My military service took me to places like Texas and California, but never out of the United States. Then, over a period of three years during the beginning stages of the US war in Iraq, I became a traveling fool. My activism against that war took me to college campuses and demonstrations all over the US and Europe.
The way that happened was a matter of luck, politics, and maybe a tad bit of exploitation. I learned a lot about group dynamics, organizing, and the far left as it exists in the United States. I was a member of a tiny little community group in Fayetteville, NC, protesting the death penalty and other social justice issues. Then 9/11 happened, and George Bush and Co. decided to attack Iraq because 19 Saudi Arabians attacked the US. My son was in basic training in the Navy on 9/11 and was on the way to report to the USS Dwight D. Eisenhower after completing Navy Nuclear Training when the first bombs fell on Baghdad. He was home on leave and went to a demonstration against the war and held a sign that said "No Blood for Oil." He was interviewed by an AP reporter. When he reported to the ship, he was brought up on charges and convicted. It was bullshit because even members of the military have free speech when they are off duty, out of uniform, and not purporting to represent the government. Thousands of GIs did it during the Vietnam War.
I was pissed about the way he was treated and told the story at a small gathering of activists I attended. In attendance was an instructor from the University of NC-Greensboro who was a member of the International Socialist Organization (ISO). He led the student group there and had ties with the national headquarters in Chicago. He approached me and asked if I would mind coming to his school to speak, and I agreed. I didn't know that I was being auditioned. When I spoke at the school, members of the national cadre were there, and they liked what I had to say and how I said it. Before I knew it, speaking invitations started pouring in. I was eager to represent Military Families Speak Out, a national organization I was trying to organize for, so I went to every place I was invited.
They asked me if I wanted to go to Paris to speak at the World Socialism Conference on an anti-war panel, and I agreed. I didn't even have a passport and had to hustle to get one. I was there for nine days. My roommate was a man named Shuja Graham, a former Black Panther given the death penalty for the death of a correctional officer in a prison riot, later exonerated, as he was not actually involved in the murder. I'm a former prison guard myself, but Shuja and I got along just fine. I met leftists from all over the world and started to see some of the nitpicking differences for which that strain of politics is known.
I didn't do much classic tourism, other than visiting Notre Dame and the Seine one afternoon. I spent much time talking politics and drinking. I went to a demonstration organized by the French League of Communist Revolutionaries and bought a Palestinian scarf from the Italian Communist Party, whom I later learned were Stalinists. My hosts, the ISO, were Trots, disciples of Leon Trotsky, an early Communist thought leader assassinated on Stalin's orders. Most of my far-left-leaning political friends back home belonged to an organization associated with Maoism.
When I returned home, I continued to speak out and travel, eventually going to Italy and Great Britain on ISO-sponsored trips. As the anti-war movement grew, some activists got lots of press, like Cindy Sheehan, the mother of a soldier killed in Iraq who gained fame for camping out in a ditch outside of Bush's Texas ranch. Another became known for appearing in Michael Moore's movie, Fahrenheit 911. GI resistors started getting attention and invitations to speak. People organizing against the war competed to see which well-known person they could get to come to their demos. Factions developed. It was distasteful. The ISO cadre, whom I had come to look upon as my friends, suddenly wanted to dictate to me where I could and could not speak, depending on the politics of the organizers. I was outraged because I was on one team, Team Stop the War. That was my goal. I wasn't trying to grow anyone's membership or advance some nuanced understanding of far-left politics. I just wanted for kids like my son to quit being sent to die in Iraq.
Although I remained very much against US policy, I made the abrupt decision to quit traveling and speaking after making one last trip to Atlanta for an event that had nothing to do with any political group. Thereafter, I attended meetings of the same hometown organization I started with and went to our tiny demos happily. My adventures on the national and international stage were enlightening, and I got to meet a lot of military families and hopefully discourage a few young people from joining up. My adventures with the ISO, of which I must stress, I was never a member, were enlightening, if for nothing else, to see a small slice of American culture that most people never experience.
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