In 2020, Canada witnessed the Nova Scotia attacks in which 23 people were killed between April 18 and 19. This remains the largest massacre in Canada since 1972. Within two weeks Prime Minister Justin Trudeau announced an immediate ban on over 1,500 models and variants of assault-style firearms.

Two months later, my family moved from Calgary, Alberta, in Canada, to Harrisonburg, Va., in the United States. I was adjusting to a new country amid a global pandemic.

One of the biggest culture shocks was the difference in the ways Canada and the U.S. view guns, assault weapons and the military.

As a lifelong Mennonite and pacifist, I have always wrestled with how to approach the military complex in whichever country I live in. I often recall phrases like, “Make borscht, not bombs,” and my all-time favorite Mennonite Central Committee tank top that said, “This is how Mennonites bare arms.”

Even when attending Mennonite schools and existing in majority Mennonite circles, there were still several moments that stuck with me.

The first was in my driver’s education class in 10^th grade. One of my classmates asked a question about laws in relation to having a gun in the car while driving. I was surprised by this realization that owning guns, and driving with them in the car, was not just a possibility but considered normal enough that the question came up in class.

I also remember going to the Christmas parade in downtown Harrisonburg. Along with the holiday floats, a group of high schoolers marched by in their Reserve Officers’ Training Corps uniforms. High school students in military uniform? At a Christmas parade?

One moment that I do not think will leave me was when my father, who loves searching reviews for the best food, took us to Mission BBQ in Charlottesville, Va. Seeing the floor to ceiling military paraphernalia in the restaurant was terrifying for me. How was this normal? Why was no one questioning this intense glorification of the military?

While my father is also a lifelong Mennonite, he spent most of his childhood years in the U.S. While he would also identify as a pacifist, he reflected after how engrained the military is in U.S. culture, that he did not really think twice about how this particular restaurant portrayed the military — or that I might have a different reaction.

He told me about a trip he and a friend took to the Grand Ole Opry, when they were having a night to celebrate the military, including a movie about veterans. He described the atmosphere as “deeply religious,” and said no one questioned it.

This religious narrative of the military is so deeply woven into the narrative of U.S. culture, that even when looking at Democrats and Republicans, the one thing they both seem to agree on is support for the military. And it is hardly ever questioned.

This narrative is also deeply engrained in American media. In movies and TV shows especially, the military is almost always portrayed in a positive light. The media plays a huge role in the glorification of the military, especially to American audiences.

Movies like Top Gun: Maverick and Captain America: The First Avenger work with the military to create pro-military films in exchange for full access to all sorts of military equipment, according to The Lever. The military-entertainment complex is very prevalent in Hollywood and has been, for nearly a century, with its first Academy Award winning film, Wings, in 1927. To put it plainly, the entertainment industry is one of the biggest sources of military propaganda.

Consuming this media as a kid in a Canadian school, there was always a level of disconnect from my country and communities to the intense institutionalized military seen on screen. After living in the U.S. for four years, and living through this most recent election cycle, the harsh reality of American militarism and nationalism has been inescapable. Even as I rewatch some of my favorite Marvel movies, like Captain America: Civil War, there is a looming sense of despair I cannot quite shake.

During my high school government class, we were tasked with taking a survey to figure out where we fall on the political spectrum. Inevitably, there was a question that asked how we feel about the military. One of my friends, who is also Mennonite, said, “While I don’t like or support the military, it does make me feel safer knowing [the U.S.] has such a big military.”

In 2023, the U.S. spent about $820.3 billion on the military. Between 2009 and 2019, the U.S. on average had a military budget that was as much as the next 11 countries combined. I cannot say I feel safer in the U.S., especially because of the size of its military. Not to mention, we have been watching the U.S. send billions of dollars in military aid to Israel over the past year as it actively perpetrates a genocide against Palestinians in Gaza. It is infuriating and terrifying.

While it is important to recognize the intense militarism in the U.S., my point is not that you should be scared. We should be using our fear and anger to drive us to action.

Nov. 11, initially marked Armistice Day to commemorate the end of World War I, is celebrated as Veterans Day in the U.S., separate from Memorial Day in May. In Canada, Nov. 11 is Remembrance Day. Poppies to mark the occasion could always be found at the local Tim Hortons or Sobeys. Even my Mennonite school handed out poppies to the students, along with pins from Mennonite Central Committee that read, “To remember is to work for peace.”

The value of being a peacemaker has long been ingrained in me as a Mennonite and as someone who strives to see the humanity in every individual. As I find my place in this world, I am also trying to find ways I can work for peace.

Most recently, I have gotten involved with Mennonite Action. After joining “All God’s Children March for a Ceasefire” this summer from Harrisonburg to Washington, D.C., I volunteered to join Mennonite Action’s communications team, since communications is what I am currently in school for. While I only have so much time I can give, it is important to me that I am able to add my voice to this collective call for peace and justice, grounded in faith and love.

I encourage you to reflect on what you can do to work for peace. If you are a college student, consider joining an affinity group on your campus to do advocacy work. Maybe there is a group at your church having these conversations on peace and justice, or maybe you’ll consider getting involved in your local Mennonite Action branch. I won’t claim to know the exact steps to take in this journey working for peace, but I will continue to let my fear, anger and love drive me to action, whatever that looks like next.