What it means to me to be a conscientious objector
For Medford resident Judy Scribner-Moore, being a conscientious objector meant putting her money where her ethics were. And she did it. Here’s how.
By Judy Scribner-Moore | Guest Writer
The mildew smell in the bank I’ve had my accounts in for over 20 years was finally gone as I stepped to the counter to deposit a check.
“How are you today,” asked the friendly, pert teller.
“Personally, I’m very well thank you, but I have to tell you I’m quite upset to have learned this week that this bank is one of the biggest funders of private prisons and ICE detention centers in the U.S.”
“Oh,” she replied with alarm, “I don’t know anything about that. I just work here, just do this job.”
“I understand,” I said, “but it’s disturbing to me given how many other major national banks have withdrawn their funding.”
As she handed me the deposit slip, she said, “If you get a survey about your service today, please don’t mention what you said to me before -- I have nothing to do with all that.”
“I won’t,” I promised, “but I will be writing some letters.”
That afternoon, without expectation of responses, I wrote letters to three corporate executives.
Yesterday, I went to the same teller and closed my savings account and opened another and a checking account at a community bank up the street from my house. With a little research I’d found that, like the bank I was leaving, the community bank has branches located conveniently to my weekly travels.
I really hadn’t wanted to switch over banks and take all the steps required to change monthly autopayment and social security deposits, etc., but I knew I wouldn’t sleep well at night or be able in good conscience to stand with others in protest on Saturday outside the main branch of my soon-to-be former bank.
I spent an hour in the new bank with Olivia, who patiently helped me with the transition, understanding that numbers are not my forte. Her beautiful, clear, olive-colored eyes were complemented by a soft, hearty olive-colored sweater, which she told me with glee had been a lucky thrift store find.
She’d been a theater major, recently graduated and working in bars to fund her graduate studies in theater tech when COVID hit. With bars closed and no income, she’d felt lucky to land a part-time job at Bed, Bath & Beyond.
While working there, a customer, who managed a bank and most likely observed Olivia’s friendly, helpful and bright personality, approached her and asked if she’d ever considered working in banking. Never, Olivia replied. My bank is looking for people – would you be interested in applying for a position?
That afternoon, Olivia went to an interview in jeans and a t-shirt and no resume. They hired her on the spot (they took a chance on me, she told me) and provided training. She loved it, especially dealing with all the details required of a banker.
After a few years, a former co-worker, who had moved on to a smaller, community bank, called and asked if she’d be interested in a new position as a bank rover. Olivia took that position, liked the culture of a smaller bank, enjoyed going from bank to bank while learning new skills and meeting new people.
When a permanent position opened at the branch where I am now a customer, she applied for and got the job. Her office has windows on two walls and a new café across the street.
While I waited for final forms to be processed, the branch manager, Melinda, came in and introduced herself. Judy Scribner-Moore, I know your name from the West Medford Community Center – I’m on the board there.
I mentioned to Melinda that Olivia had told me another new customer had closed her account with my previous bank. I suggested this could be part of an effective marketing campaign for her bank, soliciting customers based on conscientious objector principles.
Melinda said, “I’ve already just sent a note about this to corporate.”
Today most of the checking account funds got transferred and I start to tick off all the other to-do boxes, wash my long underwear, make my “Good Citizens DO NOT fund ICE” sign for tomorrow’s standout in 5 degree chill, confident I will be warmed by the presence and good intentions of other concerned and committed community members.
Judy Scribner-Moore is a West Medford resident who teaches yoga for healthy aging.
