My version of pacifism

A few months ago, FGC's Youth Ministries Committee asked me to write about Quakers and pacifism. The Quaker Youth blog is doing a series along the lines of a written form of Quaker Quest, and they've recently posted the short pieces by three Quakers, including yours truly.

What follows below is a cross-post of what I wrote for the Quaker Youth blog, with some links added.

Blessings,
Liz

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If you were to look at my Quaker resumé, you'd notice a huge gap in it: No peace marches. No war-tax resistance. Not even a bumper sticker on my car. But then, one week before this short essay was due, I read about preparations for the 13th annual Day of Silence that students across the U.S. observe. It's a way to send a message that bullying, harassing, ridiculing, and assaulting fellow students based on their gender identity or sexual orientation, real or perceived, is NOT okay.

The night before the Day of Silence, I feel that familiar *tweak* that tells me I have to participate somehow out of solidarity with the students. I print a few quarter-sheet handouts to explain why I won't be talking, and I mentally prepare myself for the day to come. I worry about the inconveniences I'll encounter in the grocery store, on mass transit, in restaurants.

That morning, almost immediately, I become aware of my own hurt and shame of having been ridiculed by classmates when I was in middle school and high school. My own voice back then had been shut out and I never did anything about it.

At lunch, I buy a cup of soup and hand my small sheet of paper to the cashier, explaining why I'm not speaking. The cashier takes a dollar off my meal. I feel awkward in being given an unwarranted discount, but I choose to keep the silence. For the rest of the day, I live with not knowing what the cashier thought of me. I leave another of my handouts on the table for whoever sits there next.

At the organization where I volunteer, I smile and return the warm greetings of "Hello-how-are-you?" by handing the staff my piece of paper. Two women will later seek me out and tell me they appreciate what I am doing. One of them will tell me her son is also observing the Day of Silence at school and she wants to know more about it.

My brand of witness is a personal one. My brand of pacifism is a personal witness that starts from an inward change and grows out of a motion of love, dignity, and care for all involved. The smallest act of pacifism, even if it is carried out among kind souls and supportive friends, is important to do because I may be called on to carry out something even larger.

Even if it's inconvenient.