In March 20, 2003, at the start of the war in Iraq, I was among 107 war protesters blocking entrances of the Federal Building in Philadelphia. I had never before committed civil disobedience or been arrested. As war clouds gathered, I wrote letters to President Bush and demonstrated in Philadelphia and Washington against going to war with Iraq. At home I began meeting regularly with what was called an affinity group, local folk who, like me, had signed a Pledge of Resistance to war in Iraq. The dozen or so of us were either in the process of discerning whether to do civil disobedience or wanting to support those who chose it. Our local Brandywine Peace Community was developing a plan for symbolic action by "sitting-in," obstructing all the entrances to Philadelphia's city-block-size Federal Building, thus symbolically shutting down the government as it went to war. I considered whether this civil disobedience was the right thing for me to do if war began, worrying about the trouble it would cause people trying to get to work or to take their children to daycare in the Federal Building. I even wrote an apology and explanation to hand to anyone I inconvenienced. But I decided to do civil disobedience, and when the day came, found myself feeling profoundly thankful to live in a country where the law protects me, even when I choose to dissent.