A little angel infiltrating the depths of human hell

Be the change you want to see in the world.
-Gandhi

This essay is about Edgar, but it is also about me, and you, and I would like to think, everyone. It’s hard to decide who is and is not affected when you talk about love.

Some of you know Edgar and some of you don’t, but in either case, I promise you I’m going to try and be true to him and not make him into something he isn’t or use him for some political agenda.

Edgar has been in the Army reserves for ages and in a couple of weeks, he’s going to Baghdad. When I first found that out two days ago, I was completely surprised at how I burst into tears and couldn’t stop crying. But the thought of Edgar in a war zone was so unnatural.

At times like these, people always say things like, “So-and-so is the best. He’s never hurt anyone and he’s always nice and it’s such a shame and so unfair...”

But Edgar is the biggest peacemaker I have ever met.

Edgar accepts everyone, even those who would oppress him, and reaches out peacefully to help others learn acceptance. He loves people. He can’t get enough of people. The goofy joy he breeds is simply, lovely. In concrete terms, he has worked on dozens of diversity and fundraising events at our university. Before I left for Spain, there was a solid couple of months when his hair was always at this funny frizzy length because every other week or so he would shave it in the “Shave Your Head for Cancer” drives he helped to plan. In personal terms, I would have to say that I have sometimes been put to shame by Edgar’s unwavering challenges of injustice, on both institutional and interpersonal levels. At times when I may have let unfairness slide because the fight might make me look like a nut, his ego was not a factor. The only factor for him has always been making sure everyone is loved and able to express love.

And Edgar knows how to love. This guy has always been running in ninety directions at once, but he sincerely always drops what he is doing to listen, hug or give a quick massage. Once again he has put me to shame; for a long time I used to feel a tinge of annoyance toward colleagues who asked me to listen to their woes when I had deadlines to meet. For Edgar, there has never been a contest; people first. I can only hope that Ed has received as many open ears and arms as he has doled out, but in any case, I think he takes just as much satisfaction in giving as receiving.

Edgar is also an artist. He not only makes the world a more beautiful place through his actions, but also through his paintings. A major theme of his artwork has been his Mexican-American heritage, the Army’s “Don’t ask, don’t tell” policy, and how these affect or are affected by his being gay. “Who is the real Edgar, anyway, and who will let him just be? Can the various bits of his identity live in harmony? Where can he find acceptance?”

My stomach revolted when I read about Edgar being shipped off because, frankly, I didn’t think that Baghdad in the company of the U.S. Army was that place.

I was so afraid for him and for all of the people he knows. I think Edgar may not know it, but to many of us, he represents so many good, peaceful, even innocent things. He’s not a saint, but he is a genuine human being; he embodies and brings out what is best in humanity, what we could all be with a little more love. I just didn’t want him to be in a place where he couldn’t be himself, or where he’d get hurt for being himself. This point was particularly driven home when my friend Cori, who is compiling a journal for him, wrote to us all:

“One very important thing: The messages MUST be ‘military friendly.’ i.e. ‘Don't ask, don't tell.’ We wouldn't want to get Edgar into any kind of trouble.”

But if nothing to this point has stopped him from being himself, from showing care and compassion, then why would this?

***

Sometimes I feel like no matter how peacefully we try and lead our individual lives, the warring world invariably forces its way in. My sister and I often dream about running away with our family to the woods and living peacefully away from the chaos. Yet, it seems to me more and more that the complicated hell and our peaceful heaven form one and the same world. There is no escaping hell, but hell can’t escape us either.

When I felt afraid for Edgar, I was giving up hope and acting selfishly.

The U.S. Army might not accept who Ed is on his off time, and it’s fighting a war that might not have humanity’s best interests at heart, but all kinds of lofty philosophizing or fearful tears won’t do Edgar, his fellow soldiers or the Iraqi people any good right now. There are more fundamental issues at hand.

Edgar is a good person and I trust him to be a peacemaker even in war. We’ve all seen and read a lot over the last couple years that makes us doubt the character and actions of soldiers, but knowing that a guy like Edgar is going has made me think that there must be other Edgars there, little angels infiltrating the depths of human hell.

We will continue to argue ideology from atop our soapboxes, and the loud voices on all sides, right and left, will create a collective history of this “conflict.” But as is the case in each of our daily lives, the real history of this war, the one that will shape future actions, will be founded in the actions of the individuals on the ground. I hope and pray that as often as is possible, compassion governs these actions so that the people involved will not be burdened with hellish inner histories and that compassionate pasts might encourage compassionate futures.