Three Choices opus 540
| 8 March 2025 1010 Hours | | Ethics, Education, History, Memories, Migration, Philosophy, Warfare, Youth |
Friendly and gentle Canada is now undergoing a tariff blitz
From its huge neighbor to the south.
I do not completely understand all the implications of this,
But I do feel empathy for a country that might have become my home.
It was 1966, during the, now as seen, unjust Vietnam War.
I was studying for my Ph.D. at Cornell University.
Unrest and antipathy against the war prevailed.
I was the leader of the 'Young Friends', a Quaker Students group.
I read and studied profusely everything printed about the war.
I profoundly felt that I was not able to kill another human being.
I applied and succeeded to be classified as a Conscientious Objector.
Oh, what if my draft number, about 370, had been drawn--
What would I have done to maintain my life's dignity?
As I saw it, I had three choices for a major decision in life.
One, I would drive a military ambulance as a non-combatant;
Two, I would go to prison as a non-cooperator;
Three, I would flee to Canada, becoming a refugee.
Time passed by as I attempted to continue my biological studies.
The war ended and my draft number was never drawn.
Fate shifted once again, nullifying my chances of becoming
A citizen of our reasonable, 'sweet', Acer saccharum nation to the north.