I think I realized I had changed somewhere outside of Dallas, speeding towards Kansas City about 30,000 feet above the earth. As I sat wedged between a nicely-dressed businessman and a college student from George Washington University, I attempted to sleep but could not avoid overhearing their conversation about this student’s first semester away from home. And while my first semester did not include quite his amount of alcohol and literally forgettable nights spent passed out and sprawled over porcelain, it had forced me (as it did every other college first-year) to reevaluate the lifestyle I maintained in high school. When I first set foot on Georgetown’s campus, I was a raving carnivore who could always enjoy a good ice-cream cone. Yet I flew home a vegan, politely declining the non-vegan airline meal (not to much chagrin, I might add). Before my life here at Georgetown, I was a consumer who never questioned where any products came from, but now, after learning of the effects sweatshops and unfair labor practices have on others’ lives, my life as a passive shopper has changed to that of an aggressive consumer. I knew I would inevitably change when I went to college, but I had no idea to what extent.
However, upon further reflection, I realized that I had not changed at all. I do not believe that as individuals we morph into different creatures because of the “college experience.” Instead, I think we remain exactly the same?while it is the world (as we perceive it) that changes. I care just as much for the world around me today as a bumbling college first-year as I did when I was a cocky senior prancing around my high school. Yet as a senior high school student in Kansas, I was completely ignorant of the meat industry’s practices and the conditions in sweatshops. It has been my experiences here at Georgetown that have changed my perspectives on the world, consequently, motivating me to change how I act within it.
One of the most amazing experiences of my entire life has been this semester with students here at Georgetown. Last November, about 16 students from Georgetown Solidarity traveled down to Ft. Benning, Ga., to protest an institution known as the School of the Americas (recently renamed the Western Institute for Security Cooperation). This institution, supported by American tax dollars, takes young men from Latin American countries (Panama, Honduras, El Salvador, Peru, etc.) and trains them in combat tactics. Upon graduation, they are returned to their respective countries to “stabilize the region.” Some argue that America’s intentions are benign, that we really just want to help our neighbors to the south; many others still maintain that America has ulterior motives. No matter the nature of America’s motive, the result has been clear. Out of the more than 60,000 young men to graduate since the SOA’s inception in 1946, many have become oppressive dictators squelching democracy. The list includes Roberto Viola and Leopoldo Galtieri of Argentina, Guillermo Rodriguez of Ecuador and Hugo Banzer Suarez of Bolivia. Still many more have returned to the ranks of their states’ military regimes only to participate in massive massacres of innocent civilians such as the El Mozote massacre of 900 civilians in El Salvador.
With the belief that these horrendous crimes against humanity must be stopped and that it is not America’s job to train soldiers for other countries’ military regimes, I joined up with some fellow Georgetown students to march in protest of the School of the Americas. Originally, I had hoped to use my freedom of speech and assembly to make a difference in American policy. However, I soon discovered that participating the in the march against the SOA was having a huge effect on me, personally. As I stood in a crowd of 5,000 grandmothers, Jesuit priests, anarchists, college students, small children and parents?each one holding a cross bearing the name of a victim?I was overwhelmed by the fact that each one of these people cared so deeply for people whom they had never even met. As we marched towards the fence of the military base, I listened to the name of each victim sung aloud, then 5,000 voices responding in unison with “Presente.” Back at Georgetown, we had studied the School of the Americas and the horrible acts that some humans are capable of committing. At the march, I witnessed the amazingly altruistic acts of which humans are capable.
When my friends and family asked me to share the experience at Georgetown that changed me the most, I told them precisely this story of the march in Ft. Benning, Ga. I explained that I am really the same person; I just now realize that no matter how horrendous some human acts may seem, the splendor of a selfless act will be more powerful. Additionally, I have realized the value of an environment such as Georgetown’s. With the resources here, one would have to make an effort not to educate one’s self about the world. Because of this unique opportunity that each of has here for four years, it is my hope that we will reevaluate our own lifestyles and maybe discover some room for change.
This Christmas, in an attempt to bring a little bit of my experience at Georgetown back to Kansas, I decided to transform our family’s Christmas tree into a “socially conscious” Christmas tree. Maintaining our usual Christmas traditions (save the non-vegan eggnog) I decorated the tree, adding a few ornaments of my own. By the time I finished, the angels in our tree held signs reading “Close down the School of the Americas.” My Christmas ornaments were not a sign that I had returned home a different person. Instead, I had stepped off the plane in Kansas City with a much different perspective on the world around me.
