
Since the 1960s, I have joined with others to learn how our own survival and the survival of humanity depends on our collective challenge to the United States Empire—the Empire that is addicted to war, the Empire build on a foundation of theft of Indigenous land, enslavement of African people, profit for a few and patriarchy.
On that morning in 1974, when I left Quang Tri Province, I could hear anti-aircraft fire in the distance. A U.S. bomber was violating the Cease Fire Agreement, but no one in our group paid any attention. I too, remained calm, sure that we were well-defended. My host, Bui Thi Me, the Vice Minister of Health of the Provisional Revolutionary Government of South Viet Nam held
my hand as we walked to the jeep. She had lost her husband, two sons, a brother and her best friend in the War, but her eyes still sparkled with confidence and kindness. She must have noticed I was fighting back tears. “Arlene. Don’t be sad. We are part of the worldwide family of militant women. We will meet again—next time in Ho Chi Minh City, or Paris or even New York.”
