Wearing the uniform

Yesterday Obama was sworn in as President of the United States, and, when he finished the words, "So help me God," both I and the better half lost it. We just collapsed on each other in an ucky F spectacle. It was great.

However, for me the tears weren't joy - I'm happy that he's now in office, but I also have a sense of the immense amount of work that has to be done to even begin to reverse the tidal wave of bullshit that has swept over this nation and, as a result, the world. I'm pleased. I am gratified to see someone I helped elect, and the fact that he's black is a huge bonus, because that means that millions of kids across the country can see that yes, they can, too.

It's also in stark contrast to the feeling of four years ago, when Bush was reelected. I remember sitting up the entire night online watching as it gradually became more and more apparent that my vote for Kerry (which was, at the time, only a nod to how badly I wanted Bush out - I was a libertarian with an interest in social justice and getting out of the war, but still very much an objectivist in regards to economics) had availed nothing. My husband had voted the same way, and both of us were shattered at the result. We were off the next day for some reason, and we just wandered around numbly.

It was made harder by the fact that, as Marines, we went back to work with people who largely (although in smaller numbers than other units since we were musicians, and those are a mixed bag) were excited about the results, excited about the war, and wanted to maintain the status quo, despite the increasing obviousness of Bush's absolute disregard for the military in general aside from using them to get what he wanted despite the loss of lives or the futility of the measures. It was sobering. It was shattering.

And yesterday didn't make it better, but it was twenty times better than his reelection was bad - however, it did not remotely dwarf the pain of his presidency.

Surprisingly for me, rather than joy, it was hurt that brought the tears on for me. It was a wave of agony and sorrow, that, however great this moment was, it won't rewind the past eight years. It won't bring anyone back to life. It won't undo damage; it will just begin to repair it.

Looking back over another post on Pandagon that, basically, asks about people's experiences of the last eight years. Mine are pretty brief and to the point - I joined the Marines in May of 2002, shipped to boot camp in June of that year, and then began my time as a clarinetist. I was not overly political until around the middle of 2004, when I started to pay the frak attention. Then, as I said, I voted for Kerry, because Badnarik would have been a vote not for Kerry, and, well, yeah.

Then, when he was reelected, it started to eat at me, daily. I swore an oath of enlistment - to uphold and defend the Constitution from all enemies both foreign and domestic.

And I was wearing that uniform in service of a real, breathing domestic enemy of the Constitution.

I can't put into words how much that bothered me, every day, and how much that decreases my pride in having served. In serving I broke my oath.

I love my country. I love it passionately; I really would die for it. (I also think that loving your country means wanting what's best for it, not blindly supporting everything the government does. There's a fine line between patriotism and fanaticism.) And I think I can best serve through activism and voting in candidates I think will do the best for this country I so love.

However, yesterday, however wonderful, can't remove my shame at having worn the uniform in service to a President who was, by all interpretations my oath, a false president who deserves imprisonment or death for his crimes against the Constitution. I served a traitor.

And I feel like that makes me a traitor.

I don't know how to reconcile my pride in having served with having, ultimately, not served in that way as well. My feelings about the Marines are mixed at best. I wish I could have been a force for good. Helping elect Barack Obama to office was a start, but it's a start that should have happened long ago.

So ambivalence. Yes, we have a new President who intends to do the best he can to get this nation back on its feet, but all these people have died because of the last eight years, and, in a perverse manner, I helped.

It hurts. I just hope this is the beginning of healing.