I remember Vietnam
On my recent visit to Northern Vietnam, the bustling culture of Hanoi and soft, agrarian landscapes of Northern Vietnam were offset by ghosts of the past.
I remember terrified boys in high school receiving draft numbers, TV images of caskets with young men unloaded from airplanes, images of burning Vietnamese villages, agent orange.
I remember the art of Martha Rosler, Nancy Spero, Leon Kolub and the writing of Susan Sontag exposing the horror of the war.
I remember the dark feeling that suffocated the United States during those years, the endless protests and the war that seemed like it would never end.
