Wow, I had no idea

For the First time in my life I’m ashamed to be seen as an American. I remember being in elementary school and singing the song from September to June for at lest eight years every morning, I stood inside a classroom with my right hand over my heart pledging to a flag, to a country… that is not even sure what it stands for. Reading poems from Guantanamo, I kept rereading the text to make sure I was seeing the United States of America and not some other far off land in our world. Guantanamo, Guantanamo, probably three hours from New York, right under our noses. When we say “one nation, under God, for liberty and justice for all” does it only apply to the fifty states and Canada? I was just so shocked and angered at this situation, what got me really boiling was the fact that there was no reason why theses people were being heal other then suspicion. These were not uneducated people: they were University graduates, authors, journalist, magazine editors, parents, and amputees for God’s sake! One the stories that really struck me way the story of: Ustad Badruzzaman Badar (27)…he’s an essayist with an MA in English. I kept thinking that could have been me, which is not far fetched seeing as someone was detained for the brand of the watch he was wearing (49). These prisoners’ writings are so filled with pain, hurt, and confusion, they are held from all outside contact from their family and only given heavily censored letters, no news and no regular use of pens. One man can only make out the words “I love you” from the letter/poem that his daughter sent him. Many of the author’s in exile that we read at least had the ability to write, to communicate their emotions, their individual thoughts. Even the prisoners that were released were not given all of their works. I remember one man asking why was he given a pen if they were just going to take it away…because poetry can be a potential risk!
The poem I decided to do my close reading on was “They fight for peace” (20) by Aamer.

The poem is divided into four stanza’s. I choose this one because it made me think of the war in Iraq that we are fighting for peace.
The poem begins with questions about peace of mind or earth, questioning exactly what kind of peace which leads into the next stanza. The second and stanza is what he observes from the soldiers who are “fighting for peace” and is again questioning what kind of peace they were looking for. The last stanza he comes up with the idea, or revelation that they are fighting for peace. What’s interesting is that he never defines what peace is, perhaps that is because he never witnesses peace in the detainment center.
There is so much to say about this book I haven’t the slightest idea where to being. I read
This book thinking it was merely a book of collected poetry. It left me questioning who I am and what kind of a mark am I leaving in the world. Because these poems are translated and edited I could only imagine what more they have to say…the words and thoughts that we will never read the struggle that we will never fully understand. Instead I’m sitting her giving my armature opinion about something I know nothing about, but at least I’m writing.