Evangelism, power, and Eclipse

I have written about living near the Columban Fathers headquarters, a missionary society, in the 1980's. I grew up hearing about El Salvador, Archbishop Oscar Romero, and calls from the pulpit at mass for the closing of the School of Americas (now renamed).

That was one of those political topics where, as a military family at the time, we listened and kept silent. Sometimes we could sign the petitions on tables after Mass (I think we usually signed the Pro-Life ones), and sometimes we did not.

Things change when a family becomes civilian. Some changes were obvious: not living in military housing, no longer surrounded by military families. Other changes took more time: figuring out who I really am and what I believe for myself, and then learning how to articulate it and use my constitutional Freedom of Speech.

Culture, criticism, and power dynamics

Yesterday I wrote about the military child, particularly military daughters. I referenced Military Brats: Legacies of Childhood Inside the Fortress. I don't know if you clicked on the link, if you read the blurb. Two sentences stand out to me:

Wertsch employs extensive research to probe the consequences—both positive and negative—of being raised in a family characterized by rigid discipline, nomadic rootlessness, dedication to military mission, and the threat of war and personal loss. With its clear-eyed, sometimes shocking depictions of alcoholism and domestic violence, and its empathy for military parents caught up in an extremely demanding way of life, Military Brats provides catharsis, insight, and a path toward healing.

Last week I wrote about the Power of Children, how so much of modern history traces back to World War II. I pondered how we can stop hate and genocide from happening. Lao Tse had something to say about that, 2500 years ago, connecting wars among nations to violence in the home, and conversely peace at home leading to peace among the nations.