Young Friends:
FGConnections Winter 2006

Clearness

by Tristan Wilson

During late October, I found myself struggling with a decision that would undoubtedly affect the rest of my life: draft registration. I had turned eighteen several months earlier and had been putting it off since then. However, now I was forced to start deciding which college to go to and that might depend on the amount of financial aide I could get. I had been to a few seminars on the subject of draft registration and knew that there could be serious consequences for not registering. The most serious of the penalties is the one that comes of a federal trial. You can be arrested and fined up to $250,000 and up to 2 years in jail. There are also a series of laws enacted not too long ago that deny certain federal privileges. You cannot hold any kind of federal job or receive any kind of federal training. Some state colleges will not admit you unless you have registered. Also, many states have similar policies, which will automatically register you if you, for example, get your driver’s license. The foremost concern on my part was the fact that you are denied all government funding of any kind unless you register; this includes the entire Free Application for Federal Student Aid (FAFSA) system. I would be getting no federal loans or grants if I decided not to register with Selective Service (the agency that collects and files all the registrants).

Most people would wonder why this was even an issue. They would just register and not give it a second thought. As you all know, I am a Quaker and, despite the fact that registration is the law, I felt obligated to think hard before I decided to obey it. Quakers have a history of resistance to unjust laws in this fashion. I had always heard stories about conscientious objectors and draft resisters, and about the hardships they faced. However, I embarked on this journey of introspection, not just because of heritage and tradition, but also as a way to maintain my personal integrity.

At first, I just wanted to make the decision on my own. I spent a good deal of time thinking about how I wanted to live my life and what I was willing to sacrifice to achieve that life-style. I was tentatively thinking that I would be willing to live a poorer-but-purer life by not registering and living without government assistance. I did not wish to be made a part of the government’s war machine, but I was still unsure that I was willing to give up so much for this cause. My parents started discussing the issue with me. It was clear from the beginning that they had one opinion in mind and had not planned on the fervent resistance that I presented them with. My mother was all for resisting violence and war, but was hesitant to break the law unless it was absolutely necessary. My father seemed to see registering as the only option and, while he admitted to the veracity of many of the points I made, he could not seem to understand my argument of moral objection to registration. They both said that they would accept and support whatever decision I finally made, however somehow I did not feel that they would. I decided that I would need more counsel from a less personal source. So, I wrote to my Meeting and requested that a clearness committee be formed to help me through this problem.

A clearness committee is a group of people who meet with an individual or couple to help them “come to clarity” on an issue they are struggling with. It is never forced on a person (i.e. it is not an intervention), however it is required that a couple wishing to marry or an individual wishing to join the Meeting officially must meet with a committee. It is a service that has been used infrequently at best in recent years. My committee consisted of two people who I know and trust: Ed Broadfield and Lloyd Gwyndon. It was also suggested that another person with knowledge of the legal ramifications of draft resistance be consulted, however, I already had extensive knowledge gained through seminars, discussion groups, and personal research. We met five times over the course of about six weeks and each time I came away with questions to think about in the intermediate time. The atmosphere of the committee meetings was very conducive to its purpose. They asked me hard, challenging questions and when I answered, they accepted my answers with little or no contention. This was because the answers I gave applied only to me and they were not there to influence my thinking, only give me a chance to think clearly and be able to speak my mind freely. They also gave me a couple of Bible readings they felt might be helpful. I read a segment of the book of Daniel in which three of his close friends refuse to bow in worship of a king’s idol and so are sentenced to be cast into a great, fiery furnace. They survive through divine intervention, but that is not the point my committee was making. They were saying that the men were not noticed until they made a stand for what they believed in and because of this gained both recognition and punishment.

After my fourth session, I was fairly sure that I would not register because I wanted to do the right thing, no matter the cost to myself, at least once in my life. After thinking for a bit, I was given to wondering if this was not the only reason. There were plenty of reasons that I should register, despite its innate immorality. I began to wonder if I was not registering merely because I did not want to think of myself as a lazy American teenager, someone who always takes the easiest course of action. I wanted to feel strong and upstanding; a person who did what was right, not always what was easiest.

In the end, I registered with Selective Service. I saw that while I was still against draft registration, the better ways of getting my point of view heard involved registration. People who are not registered need to keep a fairly low pro- file or else they will end up either getting registered against their will or arrested. A registered conscientious objector is able to speak out and get himself heard. This also lets me go to the college I want, get loans, and all the aforementioned benefits I would have lost.

I am still opposed to the concept of a military draft. It is ethically wrong to force someone to possibly kill or die against his or her will. There are many things that the government can and should be able to make a person do, but killing is not one of them. The law is also extremely sexist in that women are not required to register and still gain all the benefits that a registered man does. It is unfair to deny benefits to people based on their sex.

This experience taught me much about myself. I learned that I would be willing to live a simple life, so long as I felt that I was living a just and moral one. I learned that I am willing to stand up for what I believe, even at a cost to myself. But most importantly, I learned that I am willing to think through issues that I believe to be important; that I do not just immediately choose the easiest course of action.

Tristan Wilson is a junior at Guilford College and a philosophy major. He is a member of Chester Monthly Meeting officially and an attender at the Guilford Campus Meeting. He has felt a call to worship but currently the only leading in his life is a passionate attraction to swing dance.

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