The True Cost of Our Long War

We do not bear the cost of war.

We are not encouraged to consider the cost of war, nor do we encourage one another.

When the overinflated picture of normalcy upon which many of us were gazing was attacked, we were so genuinely shocked by the unbelievable nature of terror and death that we gave all of our time to mourning and none to contemplation.  Perhaps, had we thought it through, we would have realized that our bombs, if dropped, would only be the first to fall, but certainly not the last or the only ones.  Perhaps we would have asked our grandfathers what might happen if we stir up multinational conflict.  Perhaps we would have considered the true cost of war, the sacrifices that will eventually be demanded of each of us, and the shores to which this growing fire may very well spread. 

But we did not. 

We quickly fired back, justifiably angry, but also pretty drunk on prosperity.  Things had never been so good, and it seemed as if they could only get better!  With less people on welfare and more money in the bank than ever, we were doing quite well.  America was strong.  Americans were dreaming.  But suddenly, under attack, we trembled.  We feared.  We froze.  And while we were frozen, a decision was made.  Bombs fell, and we remained mostly frozen.  When we could finally move again, we found that there was little to be done other than that which we had always done.  We still had our jobs.  We still had to go to them.  Bombs fell, and we went to work, because there was still work.  Bombs are still falling, and there are a few less people here and there, but it’s hard to tell.  And that makes it easy to ignore.

So we go about our business, most of us, and occasionally we look a little more nervous than we once did, but we just keep going.  The auto makers keep making autos.  People keep going on vacation.  Drastic measures are, so far, uncalled for.  The long lines to give blood, the boys rolling tin foil into balls for collection, the women working their absent husbands’ machinery , and the yellow ribbons 'round the oak trees have not yet been seen.  But will it stay that way?  Will our incursions not force us again to labor solely for the war effort? 

As we consider the way forward, as our burdens grow heavier and we begin to tire, we must weigh the cost of continuing to defend aging notions.  The American dream can be realized modestly and moderately, and hopefully, if we don’t melt it down and turn it into a centrifuge, it can go on living just a little longer.

RW

Funding the Future: Which Side Are You On?

Last week, I asked a small consortium of middle school students, with which I discuss a variety of world issues on a weekly basis, to list five current news stories that they believed were worth debating.  “The issues that you choose must be debatable.  We have to be able to choose sides.”  A long list of issues was produced, including presidential approval, the length of the school day, gas prices, and immigration (particularly the DREAM Act).  Curious, I asked if anybody was interested in debating the looming education cuts.  The response was encouraging, and leads me to my purpose here. 

I cannot seem to find one person who thinks that it is a good idea to cut education spending in Dallas (or anywhere else in Texas, for that matter).  It has become our new H1N1, a monster threat to our future and the safety of our young ones.  Nobody wants it.  Nobody would dare ask for it.  Nobody would purposefully give it to a child.  Yet, unlike the swine flu, nobody has a damn clue how to prevent it.  For this reason, I must insist, as my students have done, that there is little room for debate, and when it comes to education funding in Texas and the nation as a whole, I must implore my leaders to leave their party lines in their desk drawers, ignore the aisle across which it is so hard to reach these days, and understand that we finally have a foe against which we can all fight. 

Perhaps you’re skeptical of my research, so I will entertain you with a bit of verification.  In previous debates, this sampling of students has always split into two groups (for and against a particular argument).  Twenty five percent supported teacher pay raises, with a majority voting against them.  When asked about lengthening the school day, they were split 50/50.  This is a bipartisan group, and yet they all agree that our schools need money to continue functioning and any cuts to current funding levels are, simply put, a really bad idea. 

Argue for a cut in government spending if you feel that it is important.  Argue for reductions in defense spending, funding of public radio, administrative positions, government subsidization and tax breaks for companies that are turning billions in tax-free profits (ahem…General Electric…ahem).  Argue if you must about those things, but understand, dear leaders, that there is no room for pros or cons when we’re talking about the needs of the classroom.  Teachers, supplies, and technology are absolute necessities, and we need more of all of them.  You gave us a pipedream with No Child Left Behind, and even then, you failed to provide what you had promised.  When the bill came, you stiffed us and hid behind an unnecessary war, for which there seemed to be no shortage of extra cash. 

Dearest leaders, there is plenty of fat to be trimmed, and many of us would welcome a rational, calculated approach to scaling back spending.  But classroom-level budgets are thin enough.  Please keep your carving knives out of our public schools.

RW