Dear Laura Bush:

Here is an open letter from the poet Sharon Olds to Laura Bush declining the invitation to read and speak at the National Book Critics Circle Award in Washington, D.C. (Published in The Nation, October 10) Sharon Olds is one
of the most widely read and critically acclaimed poets living in America today. Read to the end of the letter to experience her restrained, chilling eloquence.
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Laura Bush
First Lady
The White House

Dear Mrs. Bush,

I am writing to let you know why I am not able to accept your kind
invitation to give a presentation at the National Book Festival on September
24, or to attend your dinner at the Library of Congress or the breakfast at
the White House.

In one way, it's a very appealing invitation. The idea of speaking at a
festival attended by 85,000 people is inspiring! The possibility of finding
new readers is exciting for a poet in personal terms, and in terms of the
desire that poetry serve its constituents-all of us who need the pleasure,
and the inner and outer news, it delivers.

And the concept of a community of readers and writers has long been dear to
my heart. As a professor of creative writing in the graduate school of a
major university, I have had the chance to be a part of some magnificent
outreach writing workshops in which our students have become teachers. Over
the years, they have taught in a variety of settings: a women's prison,
several New York City public high schools, an oncology ward for children.

Our initial program, at a 900-bed state hospital for the severely physically
challenged, has been running now for twenty years, creating along the way
lasting friendships between young MFA candidates and their students-long
-term residents at the hospital who, in their humor, courage and wisdom,
become our teachers.

When you have witnessed someone nonspeaking and almost nonmoving spell out,
with a toe, on a big plastic alphabet chart, letter by letter, his new poem,
you have experienced, close up, the passion and essentialness of writing.

When you have held up a small cardboard alphabet card for a writer who is
completely nonspeaking and nonmoving (except for the eyes), and pointed
first to the A, then the B, Then C, then D, until you get to the first
letter of the first word of the first line of the poem she has been
composing in her head allweek, and she lifts her eyes when that letter is
touched to say yes, you feel with a fresh immediacy the human drive for
creation, self-expression, accuracy, honesty and wit-and the importance of
writing, which celebrates the value of each person's unique story and song.

So the prospect of a festival of books seemed wonderful to me. I thought of
the opportunity to talk about how to start up an outreach program. I
thought of the chance to sell some books, sign some books and meet some of
the citizens of Washington, DC. I thought that I could try to find a way,
even as your guest, with respect, to speak about my deep feeling that we
should not have invaded Iraq, and to declare my belief that the wish to
invade another culture and another country-with the resultant loss of life
and limb for our brave soldiers, and for the noncombatants in their home
terrain-did not come out of our democracy but was instead a decision made
"at the top" and forced on the people by distorted language, and by
untruths. I hoped to express the fear that we have begun to live in the
shadows of tyranny and religious chauvinism-the opposites of the liberty,
tolerance and diversity our nation aspires to.

I tried to see my way clear to attend the festival in order to bear
witness-as an American who loves her country and its principles and its
writing-against this undeclared and devastating war.

But I could not face the idea of breaking bread with you. I knew that if I
sat down to eat with you, it would feel to me as if I were condoning what I
see to be the wild, highhanded actions of the Bush Administration.

What kept coming to the fore of my mind was that I would be taking food from
the hand of the First Lady who represents the Administration that unleashed
this war and that wills its continuation, even to the extent of permitting
"extraordinary rendition": flying people to other countries where they will
be tortured for us.

So many Americans who had felt pride in our country now feel anguish and
shame, for the current regime of blood, wounds and fire. I thought of the
clean linens at your table, the shining knives and the flames of the
candles, and I could not stomach it.

Sincerely,

Sharon Olds