Thankfully, a few students were reluctant to participate in the sentimental dramas we—myself included—had just enacted. I called on several young men who had now raised their hands.
“Yes?” I asked. “What would you be willing to die for?”
“Beer!”
“Sex!”
Of course. Neither of these did I add to our list, though two men protested, and I and others in class were ultimately persuaded to concede that yes, from one point of view people, perhaps even thousands of people, had indeed risked and lost their lives for both of those things. Still, the neurotic obsessions and compulsions of the unconscious were not exactly what I was looking for in this class exercise, and no one present suggested seriously that he or she would sacrifice his or her life for the temporary euphoria of intoxication or for the even briefer ecstasies of orgasmic sex. I proceeded to my second question.
“Now what would you be willing to kill for?” I asked.
“Beer!”
This exclamation had come from the same young man who had provided this answer to my first question. Expecting the same laughter of approval his remark had earned him the first time, he postured and grinned. But the central term of my question had changed. It was not dying but killing we now considered. Several members of the class, I knew from reading their essays in previous classes, had been present at parties and beer busts at which shots had been fired. One young man’s best friend had been shot and killed. Only a few months before, his story of bloody murder and hot tears I had read aloud to his classmates, several of whom were also present now, and this knowledge and experience had sobered them. From their previous writings in my classes I knew also that several women present had suffered sexual harassment, molestation, or battering, and at least one had been raped. Some of these tales, too, of suffering and woe had been told in previous classes. That women had been threatened, abused, and murdered in our local community by men jealous and possessive was an ugly public reality of which all of us were well aware. Only a short time before, the local media had reported the horrifying murder of the mother of three small children, a young woman whose husband had doused her with gasoline and then set her on fire. To my question “Now what would you be willing to kill for?” no one shouted “Sex!” But some of the values for which students had said they would die did seem to fit the new equation.
“Family.”
I wrote it on the board.
“Country.”
I added it to the new list.
“Freedom.”
Yes, all right. I wrote the word on the board. Most of my students—not all—said they would kill for their country if an enemy attacked or even threatened it. Two students were veterans of military service. One woman was in the reserves. Several students were the children of veterans. One had a brother in the air force, another a brother in the army. But some of the terms which had worked in the first equation worked much less well in the second. My students were pensive. I waited a few moments while they thought. Then I addressed the student who had earlier said she would die for truth. I knew she was a Christian. She had been vocal about it. She prided herself on her faith. By truth she meant the truth. The truth was God’s word, the words of the holy Bible, and something more which seemed to her almost impossible to express. I called on her. I was curious.
“Yes?” she responded.
“Would you kill for truth?” I asked.
.......................................
WASTE to be continued
“Yes?” I asked. “What would you be willing to die for?”
“Beer!”
“Sex!”
Of course. Neither of these did I add to our list, though two men protested, and I and others in class were ultimately persuaded to concede that yes, from one point of view people, perhaps even thousands of people, had indeed risked and lost their lives for both of those things. Still, the neurotic obsessions and compulsions of the unconscious were not exactly what I was looking for in this class exercise, and no one present suggested seriously that he or she would sacrifice his or her life for the temporary euphoria of intoxication or for the even briefer ecstasies of orgasmic sex. I proceeded to my second question.
“Now what would you be willing to kill for?” I asked.
“Beer!”
This exclamation had come from the same young man who had provided this answer to my first question. Expecting the same laughter of approval his remark had earned him the first time, he postured and grinned. But the central term of my question had changed. It was not dying but killing we now considered. Several members of the class, I knew from reading their essays in previous classes, had been present at parties and beer busts at which shots had been fired. One young man’s best friend had been shot and killed. Only a few months before, his story of bloody murder and hot tears I had read aloud to his classmates, several of whom were also present now, and this knowledge and experience had sobered them. From their previous writings in my classes I knew also that several women present had suffered sexual harassment, molestation, or battering, and at least one had been raped. Some of these tales, too, of suffering and woe had been told in previous classes. That women had been threatened, abused, and murdered in our local community by men jealous and possessive was an ugly public reality of which all of us were well aware. Only a short time before, the local media had reported the horrifying murder of the mother of three small children, a young woman whose husband had doused her with gasoline and then set her on fire. To my question “Now what would you be willing to kill for?” no one shouted “Sex!” But some of the values for which students had said they would die did seem to fit the new equation.
“Family.”
I wrote it on the board.
“Country.”
I added it to the new list.
“Freedom.”
Yes, all right. I wrote the word on the board. Most of my students—not all—said they would kill for their country if an enemy attacked or even threatened it. Two students were veterans of military service. One woman was in the reserves. Several students were the children of veterans. One had a brother in the air force, another a brother in the army. But some of the terms which had worked in the first equation worked much less well in the second. My students were pensive. I waited a few moments while they thought. Then I addressed the student who had earlier said she would die for truth. I knew she was a Christian. She had been vocal about it. She prided herself on her faith. By truth she meant the truth. The truth was God’s word, the words of the holy Bible, and something more which seemed to her almost impossible to express. I called on her. I was curious.
“Yes?” she responded.
“Would you kill for truth?” I asked.
.......................................
WASTE to be continued
