I have been a pacifist for over a quarter century (at the time this was originally written, now over 40 years), though I am more likely to refer to myself as a nonviolentist—a phrase coined by Bob Holmes of the University of Rochester in his Nonviolence in Theory and Practice. In this chapter, I reflect on my personal journey toward nonviolence, looking particularly at the nonviolent care of children who have been victims of emotional, sexual and physical violence, and by analyzing the philosophical threads that make for a praxis of nonviolence.

What do I mean by nonviolence? I do not mean merely refraining from physically violent actions. That's a good start, but nonviolence means that and far more. Nonviolence is a way of looking at life and living life with assumptions and convictions about what life together ought to be like (There is something like a Kantian categorical imperative in the “ought”).

The tradition of nonviolence can be found in Eastern ahimsa (no harm) and Western wisdom and love. It is found in religious traditions and secular reason. It is rooted in great stories of sacrifice and love. It is about seeing every person, not merely as an object, but as a subject in his or her own right. Nonviolence becomes shorthand for a way of living that respects deeply not only human life, but all sentient life, and all that is, as intrinsically valued. It is an agglomeration of traditions, ideas, understandings, practices and virtues. These form a transcategorical matrix to give birth to the “beloved community,” to use Martin Luther King's phrase. Nonviolence is like a golden thread woven into the fabric of history, at times hidden, at times quite prominent and at times only glimpsed, but always there. Nonviolence is love.