18 years

I haven't fully embraced the concept of a yahrtzeit yet. I guess that's why it's your birthday that hits me like a sledgehammer.

I wrote the date down and just froze. Eighteen years, and sometimes I still feel like I'm screaming on the floor of my dorm room.

It's true that grief never really goes away. The times between feeling it just grow longer. I don't feel so guilty for forgetting things any more. I dream about you sometimes, but can never remember the details.

I just realized it's also been almost eighteen years since I wrote you a letter. I know you believed in reincarnation. Wherever your soul may be, a new high school grad, the Summerlands, or a drop of water in the ocean, I hope it feels my love, and takes comfort.

Not Your Tool

Let me show you a few words to describe me.
- Woman
- Veteran
- Lesbian
- Scientist
- Professional
- Fiancée
- Liberal
- Socialist


Many people have tried to use one or more of these labels to make a point.


"Why do we need refugees when we have homeless vets?"
"If women in the US think they need feminism, they should try living in Saudi Arabia."
"It's not fair for a child to grow up without a father AND a mother."
"Why should I have to pay for your health care?"


So many of these comments are made by those on the outside. The ones commenting about homeless vets have never served, nor been homeless. They have not volunteered at the VA, or donated to a crisis center. They probably never said a word about the vets until refugees came up, aside from empty platitudes twice a year.


Whom among feminisms' critics has lived in fear of assault, not from some foreign enemy, but from her fellow citizens, perhaps even from people who should have been guarding her back. How many among the critics learn to never go somewhere alone with any man, because even "friends" are not safe?


Who among those who call me dyke and pedophile acknowledge that children raised by same-sex couples are statistically FAR more likely to be well-adjusted than those raised by heterosexuals? Who will acknowledge that the staggering majority of children in foster care are from heterosexual parents? Who among those who cry over bathroom bogeymen will acknowledge that queer folk are far more likely to be the victims of crime than the perpetrators?


They call science a religion.


They drive up healthcare cost in the name of profit while trying to pay healthcare workers as little as possible.


They think my love shouldn't be at my bedside in the hospital.


They long for fictitious "good old days."


They think that they exist in a bubble, that their comfort was not built on the necks and backs of those they consider lesser. They do not build their community up when they can build on the bones of those they've destroyed.


People take my identities to use as a tool, a weapon to cause blunt-force trauma to those of whom they disapprove. They are my identities and I will not let you use me this way any longer.


Psychology has shown for decades that negative reinforcement does not lead to the behavior one wishes. Positive examples and taking care of each other builds a stronger society. It builds a safer, healthier society.


We have countless examples of successful socialized medicine. We see countries with prison rehabilitation so successful that they have to close some of their prisons. We see countries with far fewer resources than the US run their entire country on renewable energy. Within our own borders, we have seen the success of universal basic income.


It does work, and leaving people to die because they haven't earned whatever status you deem necessary makes you the most monstrous of humans.

Cannon

On November 11, 2013 I was woken up by an explosion.



There are a lot of mines around here, including natural gas and uranium. That was actually my first thought, before I'd even fully come awake. I immediately wondered if I should get out of bed and to the hospital to prepare for a mass casualty event.



But I also knew that between my writer-brain and my time as a soldier, I was immediately going to the worst possible conclusion. So I posted to Facebook, said I was just woken by an explosion. A coworker explained that it was a cannon, in honor of Veteran's Day.



Oh, November 11th, Veteran's Day.



WHAT A GREAT IDEA!! WHO WOULDN'T FIRE A CANNON IN HONOR OF PEOPLE WHO HAVE BEEN BOMBED?



Then my panic attack started to calm. And I got a few more hours of sleep before work.

So, seriously, if you have anything to do with things like this? Perhaps a little more thought into 6am cannon fire?

It's complicated

Let me preface this with a disclaimer. While the military has many, many flaws, my issues come more from a completely bad fit. I should not have joined the Army.

I didn't discover just how much of a hexagonal peg I was trying to bash into a square hole until I started yoga, actually. I think those moments of peace in the dance studio at Alverno College were the very first moments of healing.

I started exhibiting symptoms of what would later be diagnosed as psoriatic arthritis when I was 22 years old. This was helpfully complicated by sciatica. I had a lot different interpretation of the pain scale back then. I think every day I had with that pinched sciatic nerve was a 10 on the pain scale for me. With the military mentality that "pain is weakness leaving the body," I'm pretty sure everybody thought I was just malingering.

My yoga teacher called that out for the bullshit it was.

When something hurt, she approached it from a different angle. The Half-Moon pose was a particular challenge. Even the yoga blocks caused me pain. So she put me on a chair. And over the course of several weeks, I worked my way down to the full pose. I was much slower than some other students, but with my teacher's patience, I made it.

I didn't feel a lot of patience when I was in the Army. This is likely a combination of the medications I was on at the time and Army culture in general. I developed a very unhealthy relationship with food, which in all honestly was brewing throughout my entire life.

So really, the Army was just the trigger for a whole lot of issues just waiting to crop up.

At this point I would like to extend a heartfelt apology for the people who had to deal with me over the last 12 years. I know I was not an easy person to deal with on any level. I can only say I was doing the best I could, and hope I've grown from those experiences. You've shaped the person I am today, and I thank you.

Tough Reflections

TW: Sexual Harassment




In February 2003, I was deployed to Kuwait. While there was terror, and bombings, sexual harassment from third country nationals, insane heat, port-a-johns, and being far, far from home and security, none of that compared to a much more real and present threat.

During my entire deployment, women were warned not to go anywhere alone. Not to the dining halls, not the the bathroom containers, nor the shower tents.

The thing is, this was nothing new. My military career started this way. During basic training, one of the male recruits assaulted one of the female recruits. One of the drill sergeants sexually harassed another recruit. When I first arrived at Fort Hood, someone attempted to grab my hair and kiss me. When I returned from Kuwait, someone attempted to assault me at a party.

It's a military culture of entitlement. Machismo is promoted, and femininity has a very narrow definition. I don't know how much has changed since I left the service in 2005. But it took me a very long time to come to terms with my service. I didn't actively claim my veteran status outside of using the GI Bill for many years.

I'm a little bit more aware of rape culture and feminist issues now. Looking back at my time in the Army, in Kuwait especially, I'm very troubled. I'm not sure if I can do anything more than talk about it. 

I'm not sure what there would be for me to do if I could. All I know is that it needs to stop. Maybe we could even have as a goal that women in the military would feel safer than the women in the areas we're trying to help.

With MANY thanks to Edana. She's probably the most amazing woman I know.