My brain started churning at 2, churning with all sorts of worries and plans. I need to sit down with a calendar and old syllabi and make some loose plans--or maybe weekly plans--at least that's what my brain was telling me when I couldn't go back to sleep. My brain also jumped ahead to spring, and how I might teach the Intro to Lit class, and it's much too early to be plotting those classes.
Have I done the syllabus planning for this semester, since I was awake? No, of course not. I did some reading and ate some cranberry orange bread. I did some fretting about muscle loss: not my own, but my friend who had the catastrophic stroke a few years ago, and has lost so much muscle mass that she can't sit in the wheelchair very long. I've wondered about other people in my life who aren't getting much exercise--but certainly more than my mostly bed-bound friend.
I am remembering 2 years ago, heading down to campus for a day that would have been even fuller, with a dinner for new faculty at the end. I remember going to orientation sessions for new faculty and wondering how much would apply to me as a person with a one year position. And I remember feeling so jealous of people who had the luxury of more permanence.
And now I am one of those people.
Of course, today is one of those days in history that reminds me that permanence is an illusion. Today is the day when the first atomic bomb used in warfare was detonated at Hiroshima, thus launching us into this brave new world where we find ourselves. I think of those people headed to work when the bomb detonated, those burned into the concrete, and those further away, who would spend the rest of their lives being a walking specimen of what overexposure to radiation does to a human body before they died early.
The bombs used to destroy Hiroshima and Nagasaki were small by today's standards--but what damage they did! The effects of that bomb obliterated much of Hiroshima--and vaporized some of it. There were reports of people fused into pavement and glass--or just vanished, with a trace remaining at the pavement. The reports of the survivors who walked miles in search of help or water are grim. And many of those survivors would die of the effects of radiation in the coming years.
Through the years, I've seen many a documentary about the rush to build nuclear weapons, about the uncertainty of what would happen with those first tests and explosions--would the very atmosphere around the planet dissolve? I have yet to see any footage of scientists who wondered what might happen to civilians on the ground when these bombs exploded.
I've lived long enough to see history being made to know that the choices can be fairly ghastly. In this case, far better to develop the weapons before the Germans. I know many people who believe that the use of these bombs helped avoid more years of grueling battles in the Pacific that would have left us with even more dead--one could argue that the sacrifice of the populations at Hiroshima and Nagasaki were worth the avoidance of more years of war and that loss of life.
I've also done enough reading and thinking about pacifist approaches to wonder if there might not have been another way if we had acted much earlier.
Through the years, I've seen many a documentary about the rush to build nuclear weapons, about the uncertainty of what would happen with those first tests and explosions--would the very atmosphere around the planet dissolve? I have yet to see any footage of scientists who wondered what might happen to civilians on the ground when these bombs exploded.
I've lived long enough to see history being made to know that the choices can be fairly ghastly. In this case, far better to develop the weapons before the Germans. I know many people who believe that the use of these bombs helped avoid more years of grueling battles in the Pacific that would have left us with even more dead--one could argue that the sacrifice of the populations at Hiroshima and Nagasaki were worth the avoidance of more years of war and that loss of life.
I've also done enough reading and thinking about pacifist approaches to wonder if there might not have been another way if we had acted much earlier.
I remember during our grad school years we went to a beautiful anti-nuclear vigil on August 6 in a city park. I remember paper cranes and seeing some of our grad school professors there. That would have been in 1988 or 1989. I wonder if any groups mount anti-nuclear vigils in August anymore?
It's not that the world is any more of a peaceful place these days. In fact, in recent years, it feels like we're sliding back to a world that's much more dangerous. Sadly, the world still needs the blessings of the origami cranes. They're not as easy to fold as they look--that, too, makes them an appropriate metaphor. But they are worth the effort--and peace is worth the effort too.
It's not that the world is any more of a peaceful place these days. In fact, in recent years, it feels like we're sliding back to a world that's much more dangerous. Sadly, the world still needs the blessings of the origami cranes. They're not as easy to fold as they look--that, too, makes them an appropriate metaphor. But they are worth the effort--and peace is worth the effort too.
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