University of Virginia Library

Teenage Son
Long Letter

—Ed.

Dear Dad:

I want you to know that I
love you and mother very much.
But, after reading your letter, I
realized that you and I mean entirely
different things when we use
the word love.

You say God is love...that my
mother will love me no matter
what...but if I should burn my
draft card, I am no longer your
son! How can you even speak of
love, when you don't seem to understand
that the very first step
in giving love is to accept someone
as he is, not as you would
like him to be.

You say that I am free—that I
have a voice in the government.
But you forget...I'm not old
enough to vote. You say you believe
in your own rights, as well
as the rights of others. Yet you
refuse to even listen to what I
believe is the natural pursuit of
my rights. Doesn't the real test of
a free nation and its democracy
lie in the right of its people to
question their government?

You say I'm ungrateful to this
country that has given me so much.
That I doubt the principles upon
which it was founded. That's not
true at all. It's just that I doubt
some of our new founded
principles. I live to see the day
when people no longer think that
war is necessary.

Oh, I'll support any country
fighting for the right to govern
itself, but I'm not willing to lose
my life in some far-off country
many of their own young men are
when may of their own young men
are unwilling to fight and die for
their country.

No father...I won't embarrass
you or mother by burning my
draft card, but I reserve the right
to express what I feel in my heart.
If I have to fight in one of your
so-called necessary wars, I'll go.
But remember that thousands of
American homes will never be the
same, because the awful numbness
of death in a distant jungle
has stilled their laughter forever.

Please, Dad...don't let the sound
of taps deaden the lips of those
millions of Americans who believe
in their country's right to ask...
why?