The "war" was always the word I heard growing up, even though I was born over thirty years after Poland, my native country, began rebuilding itself after World War II. I heard it at school when as third graders we had to pay homage to the brave heroes who sacrificed their youth and often their lives for their beloved country. It did not matter that back then I mostly thought of a "hero" as somebody who was the main character in a story (in a book!, not in the real world), and thus the idea of a war hero did not exactly make sense to me. Neither did it matter that at the time, I was interested in stories about forest animals, fairies, and children my age, rather than the "old" eighteen -year-old men. Finally, it was without consequence that I did not fully comprehend the idea of fighting a war, and was thus wondering why the war heroes, whoever they were, mattered so much. At school, in our Polish language classes, a lot of reading was focused on "the war." I cared to be a good student and so my grades were high. If I'd ever been asked to write a story about the war, to describe what actually happened except fighting, marching, being injured and dying, I would have failed miserably.
 
I heard the word "war" mentioned by my grandma. She used to divide the world between the periods "before the war" and "after the war." I was overcome with a feeling of sadness whenever she did that because the period "before the war" was always better: you could buy oranges on the farmers' market; you could buy cocoa and expect a surprise, a free toy inside the box; you could buy all kinds of cold cuts. In comparison, you could not buy any of these things effortlessly when I was a child. Thus, I had to way of seeing for myself whether you in fact could buy oranges on the farmer's market.
 
Finally, the war songs echoed on the radio while I played with dolls, teddy bears or soldiers. I did not understand the lyrics, but I always knew when the war songs were playing. They were usually sung in a somber and serious tone by a male choir. The voices seemed close, close enough to reverberate in memory, but not near enough to make a distinct mark on it. Whatever they conveyed eluded me.
 
Many years later, years filled with books/movies and experiences, I became aware of the tragedies that innocent people had to endure because of wars. While at school we talked about the "heroes," I became interested in the so-called civilians or the ordinary people who do not fight, but whose lives were directly affected by the war either because of losing a family member, being persecuted for race, religion, gender, etc, or becoming disabled (the list goes on and on). I felt empathy and anger: empathy towards the innocent people who suffered during wars, and anger towards others who inflicted pain on them.
 
I could have read more boos and seen more movies without reacting to the injustices caused by wars. In November 2007, I saw Leslie Lewis Sword's interpretation of "Miracle in Rwanda," a one-woman play about a 1994 genocide survivor. The heroine survived because she hid (and lived) in the tiny bathroom for a couple of months. Seeing one person squeezed into such a small space, a person shaking with fear for her life every minute of her life changed my attitude toward wars. I saw the suffering of someone who was innocent, but who had to reduce her life to the very basic needs, such as obtaining food and feeling secure, only because she happened to be born into the "wrong" tribe. 
 
The European Convention on Human Rights postulates that "Everyone's right to life shall be protected by law. No one shall be deprived of his life intentionally save in the execution of a sentence of a court following his conviction of a crime for which this penalty is provided by law" (Section 1, Article 2). "Life," in my opinion, should not be viewed simply as a biological state opposite to death, but as an individual's right to grow and to live in dignity. Such life should be protected and supported by the Convention and all governments that subscribe to it. I hope this web site is a step towards achieving this goal.
 
With wishes of Peace,
Karo Caran