I could cry. I watched out of the window the other day as my neighbor was drilling and placing something up on the side of the entrance to his house. After a few moments it was obvious what it was, a flag holder. Once finished, he brought out a brand new crisply colored flag of the United States of America and placed it in the holder. That’s when tears formed in my eyes. After living next door to him for years, now I knew something about him I would rather not know. My neighbor is a “Trumpite.”

We don’t fly the flag at my house. We don’t want to be recognized in any way that we support Donald Trump. I refuse to place upon him the title he has robbed from the American people, that of president. I will not even capitalize the word in reference to him. And I despair that I have lost the “flag.”

After watching the flag go up next door I went outside and placed my new flag in the holder in the garden. I have an assortment of garden flags some specially themed to the seasons. This new flag was themed also—to peace. I put the peace flag in the holder because my city was celebrating peace month. It was September and ever since obtaining a peace proclamation from the city council we honor peace and nonviolence all month. In the past few years there were peace celebrations held in city park on September 21, International Peace Day, and other events like vigils and peace circles were held during the week surrounding that day throughout the city and in some surrounding towns. The momentum of the gatherings and the good will and caring that came forth on those days were the encouragement we needed to continue to go forward and do the work of spreading the principles of nonviolent living and the power of peace.

Not so this year though. Hampered by a viral bug that threatened our lives we hunkered down, watched movies on TV, did crafts, read books, and joined Zoom sessions until our eyes were bleary—waiting, waiting for the cloud of death to lift. As peace month approached, we wrung our hands and tried to think of what we could do this year. The thought of the absence of the camaraderie we so enjoyed the year before was painful. We are a designated Nonviolent City, and the lack of visibility became our most worried aspect. We wouldn’t be flying our 10-foot peace and nonviolence banner atop the poles in city park. We wouldn’t attend the city council meeting announcing peace week. City council no longer met in person.

Persevering nonetheless, our decision was to do videos on peace and nonviolence topics—like a personal story of how I discovered International Peace Day which also happened to be the date my mother died, and stories of great people of peace, and good descriptions of what it means to be an ally. Thanks to technology we sent these out across the internet, and we hope they helped to lift some spirits that were mired in despair watching the person who is supposed to lead us instead leaving us in the lurch.

How to judge the success of our offering for peace week preyed on my mind until a day after the last video aired. An email came in from a woman who had the courage to take the step and attend the 12-week Engage workshop with me a few years ago. She wrote:

“Dear Ruth Ann, Thank you so much for your video today on International Peace Day. I liked hearing your story about how you got involved. Your video was well spoken and personal. Thank you again. I have attended a number of events at the SHIFT Summit since Friday. Twice today I have seen children from around the world giving their own message about why global peace is important. I especially liked a very earnest boy from India and a bubbly girl from Japan. Last May I took a second class from Pace e Bene online. Since then I have gone to the conference, joined the Poor People’s Campaign, Pray for Justice Day, and been part of Religions for Peace and Green Faith. Thank you for getting me started more than two years ago. Sincerely, Lucy.”

I support my neighbor’s choice because it is his choice. The other evening he came to my door to check up on me, see how I was doing, and the conversation got around to the election, upon which he verified that, yes, he is a Trump supporter. I said little, as my peace flag waved in the evening breeze. Still, I could cry. 

I could cry in happiness too. We don’t fly the same flags, but so long as there is a “Lucy” in my world, I know we will be alright.

Embedded below are the videos from Nonviolent Morro Bay and Yes We Can Peacebuilders. Watch to find out more about Action Week, committing to peace, and how the Nonviolent Cities Project looks in action.