Four Years at the Arch

Athens’ Women in Black Reflect on Their Vigil for Peace

originally published March 7, 2007

It is hard to say how many Athenians have found themselves caught at the red light at the corner of College Avenue and Broad Street on any given Tuesday afternoon. For those who have, you will surely recall the stoic group of men and women who have gathered there over the last four years as a statement for peace.

Around dusk on any given Tuesday, you will notice the neon sign reading “honk for peace” which stands in sharp contrast to the solemnly dressed vigil participants. The group is known as the Women in Black, although you may have noticed that their title does not always accurately describe their composition. “We don’t limit things to wearing black or to being a woman,” says Beth Zorbanos, one of the group’s current organizers. “We always say that people can come join us regardless of whether they can stay and for how long, or whether they are wearing black or whether they are men, women or children.” Women in Black Athens held a special vigil Feb. 17 to mark the four-year anniversary of the local group’s beginning. Standing on the sidewalk on that cold February afternoon, an observer could note the different reactions prompted by the small cluster of people standing just below the Arch. As the light changed methodically from red to green and back again, it was hard to ignore the silence punctuated by an enthusiastic flutter of honks, a brief nod of the head, or a college student’s uncomfortable avoidance.

The history of the Women in Black has origins that permeate deep into the Georgia clay and into the distant soils of the Middle East. This means of action began in Israel in 1988 when a group of women wearing all black stood in protest of the violence that began late in 1987 involving Israel’s occupation of the West Bank and Gaza. Today, Women in Black vigils have popped up in all shapes and sizes everywhere from Spain and Germany to Belgrade and New York City. People of both genders and many races and cultures have used the symbolic nature of wearing black and standing in silence as a means to convey messages to communities and governments. In many nations, this use of silence in combination with the physical demeanor of mourning has become a way to attain a presence that seems somehow more audible and impacting than the typical protest.

According to Zorbanos, “It is important to see that the Women in Black movement was an incredible move by women in a war zone who were trying to ask for a better way for peace and reconciliation. It [the Athens chapter] grew out of that very thing that so many people use as a reason for retaliation and violence… this was a different way to respond to loss.” Almost 15 years after those first women stood in protest far across the Atlantic Ocean, another silent vigil pushed through the soil here in Athens. It was out of response to a deep personal tragedy that Athenian Ruth Koch founded what later became the local chapter of Women in Black. Mrs. Koch initiated this vigil for peace in response to the tragic loss of her daughter, son-in-law, and two grandchildren in the 9/11 terrorist attacks. (The Koch family is thought to have been one of the only families who lost four close relatives in the 9/11 attacks.) When speaking of Mrs. Koch’s role in initiating this vigil, Zorbanos explains, “I think it’s really important because, to me, that has such meaning that someone with that much loss… would stand for a better way than responding to violence with more violence. It is important to me to stand for her.” Four years later, the air around this weekly vigil still seems steeped in that initial intention: to respond to violence with something other than more violence. The members of the group consistently speak of their strong ties to a sense of mourning for those who have died and for those who will die as long as war exists in the world.

Over the years, the group has seen many different participants from a wide variety of religious orientations and different walks of life. Some have come one time and left after 20 minutes. Others have been coming consistently since the group’s initiation. When talking to some of the participants, one quickly realizes that some in the group truly see this as a vigil against the Iraq War. For others, however, it has grown beyond that initial response to 9/11 to take on the momentous task of standing against violence around the world.

So, would the Women in Black disappear into the shadow behind the Arch if the war in Iraq ended? Not so fast. “This is not only about the war in Iraq. This is so far beyond that,“Zorbanos says. ” I don’t like to call it a protest, I like to call it a vigil. The majority of us who stand here, it’s not about who you gonna hate or who you think has done wrong. It’s not about blame. It is doing an outward action for what I believe spiritually.” Whether in rain, sleet, darkness, or wet Georgia heat, many of the people involved in the vigil describe it with a sense of calling. “People have said that they feel compelled to be here and it’s just something that is so important to them,“says Nancy MacNair, another co-organizer of the group. ” Some of them don’t do other radical kinds of things… this is something they feel so strongly they can participate in.“When asked how the vigil has morphed or changed over the years, MacNair explains that more people seem to be showing responses by honking their horns as they drive by. She tells the story of one veteran who arrived at the vigil one night and began to shake their hands. MacNair recollects, “One of them was in the Army and said that we were doing this and raising our concerns because the soldiers in Iraq can’t. We have several veterans for peace who have joined us.” Zorbanos adds, “Veterans have such a strong voice because they have been in the midst of it and seen what the effects are… and the ones who speak out for peace after that experience are the ones, to me, who have the strongest voice.” Charlie Gard’ner is one of the “men in black” who has frequently participated in the group. At the Feb. 17 vigil, he offered a slightly different take on the community response. He said, “I am not really sure if it’s doing any good. Usually there’s maybe 10–15 people on Tuesday. It would be nice if there were 200 people. It would be nice if there were 2000.” On the cold Saturday in February after the four-year-anniversary peace vigil was over, Gard’ner put away his peace sign and candidly joked about the other alternatives to standing on the corner on any given Tuesday afternoon. But then the smile faded: “There’s a part of me that’s a little concerned that it’s a '40s, '50s and '60s crowd. Remembering back in 1972 when I was in college here during the Vietnam War and there were 2000 of us - I wonder where that consciousness comes from?” Many people have asked that very same question: why, in a university town, has a group like this one not grown to encompass more students and young people? Why, in a university town, has the group not grown to encompass more of the population? Zorbanos responds to this observation by saying, “I don’t know the answer to that. I just know that there are a lot of people who say that we stand for them.” The group’s organizers emphasize that the spot near the Arch is very important for this group. It provides visibility to students and also provides a lot of traffic. But, the spot seems to represent more than that. “It is symbolic that we meet right there where the UGA meets downtown. That is such a center for the meeting of the University and the town itself,” says Zorbanos. It also seems to be a call to action for a population that has typically risen up for peace in times of war: students.

However small the group may be, these people are decidedly large on their convictions. They have shown a sense of dedication to the belief that a more peaceful way can be attained, not only for the United States, but for the world. Even today, many of these folks hold strong to the idea that they also stand for families like Ruth Koch’s, who know the pains of terrorism and still stood strong four years ago to initiate a vigil for peace.

Whether you feel the urge to shout out your window or honk your horn for peace, these women, men and children of all ages invite the Athens community to join them in this weekly vigil. “If people read [this] and feel a connection to the idea of visibly being and standing for a better way… then we invite them to come out,” Zorbanos says.

Annie Hagberg

hollowiris@yahoo.com

For more information on the Women in Black movement across the planet, visit www.womeninblack.org. To participate, meet at the Arch on any given Tuesday between 5 p.m. and 6 p.m.