We dragged the big, blue and sufficiently comfortable couches together in the Maple-Willow-Larch commons. Forming a circle in the glow of the C-Store sign, the 12 or so of us looked at each other as though there was important decision-making to be made. We were sure of the gravity of the situation, for it had been the day that the world changed: Sept. 11, 2001.

We were young — sophomores mostly. After a bit of chitchat it was decided that we should open the meeting, and Nick and I explained why we had gathered our friends. Earlier that afternoon, Nick and I had run into each other on the sidewalk and decided that out of grief and a desire for peace, we had to act quickly. Act quickly we did. At that first meeting on the blue couches, we set the four guiding principles and decided to have a candlelight vigil the coming Sunday outside the Memorial Union.

With only some prior training or expertise in organizations, group-decision making or activism, we came to a consensus rapidly and set our plan into motion. Some members volunteered to work with the media, others to set up e-mail lists, fliers and a Web site. It was Katie who said, “How about something simple like, ‘Time for Peace?'” The group was born.

Retiring to our respective dorm rooms in Richardson Court Association, members of Time for Peace had fliers, a Web site and an e-mail action list by the following morning. “Time For Peace opposes any military retaliation which would contribute to an atmosphere of hatred and vengeance,” our first statement said.

Little did we know. It was the beginning of a journey that would prove more interesting and transformative than — dare I say — most of my classes at Iowa State.

This garnered almost immediate coverage and recognition from the news media and community. We ran things very informally the first year, expanding quickly with each action and claiming Sunday evenings on campus as Time for Peace night.

The first Daily article from Sept. 13, 2001, stated, “A group of students joined forces to discourage the United States from acting hastily or in violence in retaliation to this week’s attacks on the East Coast.”

Interpretation of our actions was not entirely identical. You always lose a couple of people along the way. A letter to the Daily Nov. 16, 2001 was quite unfortunately off track, saying, “A flock of hippies climbed down from their trees and crawled out of their pot smoke-filled rooms to protest American retaliation for the atrocities committed in New York on Sept. 11.”

Nevertheless, in almost three years on campus, the group has been able to raise the issue of nonviolence as a way of life. We have continuously held events on nearly every Sunday night since Sept. 11, 2001. We have constructed refugee camps and cemeteries on campus. We have held candlelight vigils and public demonstrations against war on Afghanistan and Iraq.

We’ve collaborated with everyone from the ISU College Republicans and ISU Democrats to Veishea. We have held Valentine’s peace parties, weeklong peace celebrations and sponsored numerous campus dialogues and, most recently, The Ames Peace Prize.

I wish I could say it was all planned that way from the beginning.

Like any organization, we’ve evolved to set up our statement of principles are now governed by a steering committee that comes to decisions by consensus and includes women and people of color and various backgrounds.

Another inopportune interpretation. A letter from April 24, 2002 began, “I’d just like to comment to the pot-smoking hippies from ‘Time for Peace’ that the …”

You can’t win them all.

Time for Peace started with a dozen people with a drive to make the voice for peace and nonviolence heard. Our events have drawn hundreds at their peak and five at their low. Thirty or 40 members of the Time for Peace community regularly attend weekly events. Is activism always glamorous and sexy? Heck, no. Is it worth it? I think so.

The activism can be powerful force in one’s life. Being active on campus may offer just the kind of fulfillment you’re looking for—especially when they call you a pot-smoking hippie. Tuition increases themselves should be enough to motivate us.

At Iowa State we have a remarkable opportunity. Regardless of one’s political persuasion, I have been amazed at the potential for student involvement on campus. As the process to decide issues of major concern — be it Veishea, tuition, peace, human rights or hate crimes — continues on campus, we must keep vigilant.

There’s much more to do and so much more learn. The moment we gathered around in those big blue couches and drafted our statement of intent, we embarked on a journey I now consider only beginning.