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Welcome to this I believe in NPR series presenting the personal philosophies of remarkable men and women from all walks of life.

From NPR news, this is weekend edition. I am Lian Henson.

I believe in mystery. I believe in family. I believe in being who I am. I believe in the power of failure. I believe normal life is extraordinary. This I believe.

Our essay today came to us from an unusual source. She is a former interrogator at Guantanomo Bay Naval Base in Cuba. We can't broadcast her real name or current location because of the death threat against US interrogators. So we'll call her Alex Anderson. Here's our series curator, independent producer J. Alison

Alex Anderson heard our series on radio while working at the prison at Guantanomo during a time of crisis for her. She said that this project gave her a way to organize her thoughts about her core convictions in a way that helped her make sense of her actions.
As you'll hear in her essay for this I believe.

I believe in the power of redemption. I was an interrogator at the detention facility in Gantanomo Bay Cuba. I don't have any torture stories to share. I think many people would be surprised the civilized life style I experienced in Guantanomo. The detainees I worked with were murderers and rapists. You never forgot for a moment: they'd given a chance, they'd kill you to get out. Some committed crime so harassic that I lost sleep wondering what would happen if they were set free. But this was not the only reason I couldn't sleep. I had spent 18 months in Iraq just before my arrival in Cuba. First I served as a soldier for a year, and then returned as civilian contractor because I felt I hadn't done enough to make a difference the first time. After that _____scandal broke, I left, because I felt I couldn't make any difference any more, those events simply undermined all of my work, I felt defeated, and frightened and tired and I hoped I could redeem myself by making a difference in Guantanomo.
Still I couln't sleep. I was played with dreams of explosions and screaming. After being sleepless for more than 48 hours, I began to hallucinate. I thought people were planning bombs outside my house in Guantanomo. That was the night my roommate brought me to the hospital. When I returned to work, I began to meet again with my clients which what I chose to call my detainees. We were all exhausted. Many of them came back from a war having lost friends too. I wondered how many of them still heard screaming at night like I did. My job was to obtain information that would help keep US soldiers safe. We'd meet, play dominos. I'd bring chocolate, and we talk a lot. There was one detainee, Mostafa, who joked that I was his favorite interrogator in the world, and I joked back that he was my favorite terrorist. And he was. He'd committed murders, and did things we all wished he could take back. He asked me one day, suddenly serious, "You know everything about me but still you don't hate me. Why?" His question stopped me cold. I said everyone has done things in the past that they are not proud of. I know I have but I also know God still expects me to love him with all my heart, soul, mind and strength, and to love my neighbors as myself. That means you. Mostafa started to cry. "That's what my God says too", he said. Accepting Mostafa helped me accept myself again. My clients may never know this, but my year with them helped me to finally heal. My nightmare stopped. I don't know what kind of difference I made to the mission in Guantamono, but I found redemption in caring for my clients. And I believe it saved my life, or all at least, my sanity. People say hate the sin, not the sinner. This is easier said than done. But I learn that there is true freedom in accepting others unconditionally. I believe we help to redeem each other through the power of acceptance. It is powerful to those who receive it and more powerful to those who give it.

With her essay for this I believe. Alex Anderson, a pseudo-name to protect her identity because of death threats on US interrogators. Anderson has left Guantanomo but is still working in intelligence. If you have a statement of personal belief you'd like to send us, visit our website for details, that's npr.org/thisibelieve. Or you can also find a link to our weekly broadcast. For this I believe, I am J. Alison.

J. Alison is coeditor with Dan Gadimin, John Gregory and Vicky Meric of the book This I Believe: The Personal Philosophies of Remarkable Men and Women.Support for this I believe comes from Perdential Retirement.

This I believe is produced for NPR by This I Believe incorporate and Atlantic Public media. For more essays in the series, please visit npr.org/thisibelieve.