From Today to Service… Other Above Self, From Oath to Death

Content caution: discussion of service to the United States as a veteran

From Today to Service… Other Above Self, From Oath to Death

I returned from a deployment to Afghanistan in 2010, yet there is a day in 2017 which has persisted in my mind with more fervor than any experience I had on deployment.  It was during the summer while I was on the road driving between appointments; I had to pull over.  That day was hard. Nothing prompted it, nothing startled me, and nothing could stop it once it started, at least nothing I had been able to figured out up to that point.  The flashback was as follows:

“Still getting my bearings of what my new position would be and the command structure I was going to fall under, the front gate to my base was attacked, my only solace was the Kevlar around me, the bunker I was in and the M-16 I carried.  I hadn’t even met the people I was going to be working with yet.  I was 25 years old when I sat down with a lawyer to draft my will… the gravity of my voluntary act finally sinking in. I turned 26 before I deployed… “Would I make it to 27?” crossed my mind more than I can count; and it was only day 3 of more than 270 left.”

By in large, my deployment was moderately uneventful save for several incidents: but this is not about them; this is about that day in 2017… and Today, and every day for that matter.

The thoughts and feelings never go away.  The memories and stories of people you knew never leave you.  The acts of honor, valor, heroism you saw or heard follow you.  There are countless other nuances and seemingly insignificant details of normally routine, often benign duties which craft the entirety of one’s memories.  What is the hardest for me, more often than not, is what all of it stood for and what it means to serve.  Forget the hate, the pop culture, the politicians, the money, the reasons why, the facts, the lies… NONE of it makes a difference.  Our Brother’s and Sister’s make the difference, Our ideals matter, Our values are significant… Our heritage is why we are proud.

When a fallen military member is laid to rest, a flag is presented to the next of kin…

“On behalf of the President of the United States, the [branch of service] and a grateful nation, please accept this flag as a symbol of our appreciation for your son’s / daughter’s / husband’s / wife’s honorable and faithful service and sacrifice.”

A grateful nation… many in society have forgotten how to act as part of a grateful nation.  Mass social media perverts these stories and glorifies rebellion, dishonor, and disrespect.  While these stories are not really the highlight of our society, the preservation of our Constitution (for which I fought) the First Amendment being part of it, allows for personal opinion.

Upon returning, I kept focusing on being productive, keeping my mind occupied, pushing all the bad stuff out.  Maybe that’s why my processing of deployment didn’t start until 6 years after getting back.  Now I deal with this when it comes up. I see my wife and family and love where my life has been to get me here.  I’m very proud of my service and continue to give myself in service to them, other veterans and my community.

However, when days like that happen… It’s very hard… you won’t know I’m going through it.  You don’t know I struggle to see my computer screen through the tears.  You don’t notice me pull to the side of the road because I forgot what I was doing or where I was headed.  You don’t see me avoid crowds.  You don’t see my head on a swivel.  You don’t see me hide my red face to avoid questions or sympathy.  I don’t want sympathy.  I don’t want to be known for my ailment.  I want to be known and recognized for my work, not for how my past affects me.  You don’t know what it means to be free the way a Veteran knows.  You don’t know the cost of keeping you free… you don’t know how we still pay the price long after returning for you to enjoy the liberties available to you.  You don’t know I would do it all again. You don’t know I would still die to protect you.

Only those who serve can truly understand this next quote:

“For those that will fight for it…FREEDOM …has a flavor the protected shall never know.” – L/Cpl Edwin L. “Tim” Craft, B Co 3rd AT’s, Khe Sanh Combat Base, February, 1968

Today happens, tomorrow will be better; but is that really how we are meant to live?  I know you can only take it a day at time when you’re dealing with your past, but there has to be more… Purpose does exist, so how do we find it?  How can we get our dignity back?

The story above is an illustration of the listless mental anguish which remains hidden from an ignorant society. The burden we carry so others may live in peace.  What follows is my own personal journey to find that meaning and interpret my purpose.  The days may have gone by, the past continues to get further away, however, there is one thing – one feeling – which never escapes; one which will never find peace – “Honor”

“I do solemnly swear that I will support and defend The Constitution of The United States…”

This one statement alone, binds us to a life of service.  Oh, what little understanding we have of this phrase when we first commit to it on day one.  As our duty time passes, we gain an ever-increasing understanding of what we’ve been called to do.  It is in Article I of the Military Code of Conduct where one understands better the first line of our Oath;

“… guard my Country and our way of life. I am prepared to give my life in their defense.”

But what truly is ‘our way of life?’  One need only look to our Declaration of Independence – our way of LIFE endowed to us, the individual LIBERTY [and responsibility] to be accountable for our own decisions as we journey on our PURSUIT OF HAPPINESS.  This description also embodies Article VI of the Code of Conduct;

“… I am an American, fighting for freedom, responsible for my actions, and dedicated to the principles which made my country free… “

We come to live and breathe this sense of purpose, to fulfill a mission, to protect America and her citizens from all enemies, foreign and domestic – this is our Honor, we were never asked, we never question, we no longer know any other way.  So when our time comes to trudge forward and pass on this duty to those who have and will come after us, we entrust them, we pity them because we know the burden they take, we are proud to call them family; but what of us?

When our requirements are now to assimilate as a civilian again, society expects us to ‘just go back to the way things were before you joined.’  Let me explain the absurdity of this suggestion – When I joined, I was 17 years old, not even out of high school when I signed papers and took the Oath for the first time.  The majority of our enlisted experience the same situation – to make this suggestion knowing what we know, doing the things we’ve done, and seeing the things we’ve seen (good and bad), is the most misunderstood, unrealistic, and wretched expectation of our Veterans.

“I can’t speak for all Veterans, but I can share my story in the hope it inspires others to not be defined by their past, and take ownership of the present to shape the future they are destined to manifest.”

Leaving the service is a struggle which cannot be explained.  I was part of something so big, entrenched in the corners of our globe, a cog in the greatest defense machine the world has ever known, fighting against the terror which edited our world forever on that fateful date in September… and just like that, I was done.  Where would I find that mission to be a part?  What vision could motivate me as I once was?  What greater purpose did I now serve?

“The only thing worse than being blind is having sight but no vision.” – Helen Keller.

After going through the motions of what I surmised was expected of me, I by sheer happenstance tumbled into the world of philanthropy.  I began by helping teens overcome their addictions and coached them towards deciding a better life for themselves.  Not aware of the gravity encountered in that line of work, I was also ethically tested.  Prior to my southern excursion, I too had made a poor decision when returning from a deployment, landing me on the wrong side of the courtroom; for almost two years I struggled to keep my head above water.

“Character is how others would describe you, Integrity is who you really are when others aren’t looking – strive to be better than the way people describe you.”

Don’t be afraid to walk away from a bad situation you have no control over.  Doing so helped define the next ten years of my life.  Nearing homelessness and holding my pride while I walked into that Martin County United Way in only shorts, t-shirt and flip-flops, I met someone with a passion fueled by the thousands of people she undoubtedly helped in her career.  Her dedication was radiant and easily transferable; she became the leader who would mold me into a new mission, who would instill in me the greater purpose I so desperately had been seeking – she saw the best in me when I felt I was at my worst, her name was Carol.  The greatest leaders bring out the best in others – I’m not sure she knows just what she is responsible for, but I’ll forever be grateful for the opportunity she gave me to work for, and learn from her.

While serving my communities, unbeknownst to me, a greater purpose was creeping in – one which I believe we are all intended to ultimately focus on and fulfill – but I digress.  For the last ten years, I have dedicated my work to improving the lives of those less fortunate in our society.  With an obvious affinity for working with Veterans, I became a Legacy Life Member of the VFW and now hold an officer position at a local post.  My experiences culminated in being selected as the Executive Director for a newly formed nonprofit, My 22 Veterans, aimed at reducing Veteran suicide.

After ten years in non-profit support work, I have begun shifting to my ultimate purpose.  I was built to serve – helping to improve the lives of those less fortunate, especially Veterans – but my ultimate Mission is to look after and provide for my family.  Every decision I make is to improve our family – this is my Honor – cherishing, protecting, and nourishing the gifts our Ultimate Commander in Chief has blessed me with.  By serving them, I serve him.

“As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.” – Joshua 24:15

Service comes in many ways and we each find our own purpose in our own time.  And while it may take time after leaving the military, the best purpose comes from those you keep in your company and those you get the fortune to build a life with.

By Marco A. Cuevas, USN Veteran (OEF ’09-’10)
JR My 22, Inc., Executive Director

Taking Up Space

*Image description* Child in a pink wheelchair with blue jeans and a pink shirt that reads ‘Warning! I always win at musical chairs’ with her hands atop her head, and her mouth open wide in a silly face.

Too much. Too loud. Too vocal. Drawing attention. Advocating loudly. Never satisfied.

In the space of a few weeks, these words became loud in my mind. Back to school meant lots of conversations, text, and e-mails. Needs. Disagreeing with people, and working really hard to come across diplomatically. My mind bent over gasping for air while trying not to throw up. Not because it was bad. Or, received poorly. But, because advocating is hard. And, scary. Necessary. While invoking fears that if things are pushed too hard, too loudly, or we just take up too much space, my children could suffer the repercussions. Part of me wants to apologize for speaking up at all. Making waves. I can feel it. It’s too much space out of a whole lot of kids with needs. We’re not staying in our area.

A trip to the park buzzing over the excitement of a new swing. One I can roll a wheelchair up on, and watch my daughter lean back and smile in the breeze. I pull up, and immediately feel all the blood rush to my face. They’ve built a swing. A whole separate area for kids with disabilities. I can’t believe it. How did this happen? So I speak up. I arrange meetings and have hard conversations. I listen, and try to understand. I tell them what I want, knowing the cost is astronomical in a Midwestern city that has lost its factories and is struggling to survive. And, I know, I’m taking up too much space in the financial agenda of a city.

We’re out. My daughter is excited. She makes her noises. Grunty and screechy. Over and over. It’s loud. People move away or stare. They don’t know how to respond to it. She’s just communicating. We’re used to it. But, all of a sudden, I know. Too much space. We are occupying more than our share of the noise level.

Sunday morning. Front row during worship because that’s where my daughter wants to be. She can see all the instruments. The singers. There’s room to dance. And, a few times, she makes her way on stage and just sits there, watching everyone, dancing, and sometimes even singing. I breathe deep and purposeful to slow my heart, thankful I can’t see anyone behind me. She darts quickly to make an attempt at grabbing the guitar, and I sprint on stage and grab her. This sort of thing repeats a few times, amidst her other antics of trying to get me to hang her upside down, do flips, and use me as a jungle gym. I can feel it. Sweat is starting to pour out of me. We’re taking up more than our share of space. Drawing attention away from the things people want to be focusing on.

The tears are no longer staying just behind the surface. They spill out onto my cheeks. I’m reminded how long it took for people like her to be allowed any space in society at all. Their space used to be one that hid them away. Gave them less area than was theirs. Took a family, an education, self worth, outdoors, human interaction, dignity, and at times, their lives.

I drop her off at Sunday school, and slink into the back of the church. The weight of the past week of advocating, and feeling too much settles in. I’m self conscious from the worship time, and uncertain whether bringing her in for it, no matter how much she begs, is truly the right thing to do. Our pastor stands up, talks a little about the set up of Sunday school, who goes where, when. And, out loud, in front of everyone, welcomes my daughter by name to be part of worship as she sees fit.

It’s okay for her to take up more space now. To grab back what was denied to so many before her. To loudly declare that she is alive, and has worth. This is her time. Her place. And, we will be here, taking up more than our share of space.

About the Author:

Image Description: Andrea has long light brown hair and is smiling broadly. She is wearing a white top, a silver necklace, and dangling earrings. Trees are in the background.

Andrea Mae is a mom, advocate, writer, and special education aid. She spends time caring for her three children: juggling therapies and specialists, reading, hiking, kayaking, hammocking, eating Reese’s, and being followed around by her dog-Daisy.. She is active in her neighborhood and community, advocating for the rights and needs of people with disabilities, and speaking on the topics of disability and theology. She is currently obtaining her degree in special education.

I Am Autistic

I am autistic I wonder philosophically I hear love I see equality I want to be normal I am caring I pretend to be normal I feel cast out I touch lives I worry about everything I cry when other cry I am goffy I understand autism Means different I say we are all equal I dream about the futur I try to feel powerful I hope for equality I am autistic

About the Author:

My name is Aidan Draper, I am diagnosed with ASD. I’m 15, I live in Muncie IN, and I go to Liberty Christian School in Anderson, IN. I’m a sophomore in high school. I am passionate about suicide prevention. I live with my parents and my younger brother. I have a bird, dog, and bunny.

Indiana Disability Justice Celebrates Three Years Together

April is Sexual Assault Prevention and Awareness month and the Indiana Disability Justice is celebrating entering it’s fourth year of collaborating statewide to end sexual violence with people with disabilities, including developmental and cognitive disabilities. The IDJ is a coalition of survivors of violence with disabilities, self-advocates, disability service providers, anti-violence coalitions, and caregivers who have a common goal of increasing holistic wellness of people with disabilities. IDJ strategies include education and advocacy, restorative and transformative accountability, policy change, and research that help to create inclusive and supportive environments to help prevent sexual violence.

The leadership includes Cierra Olivia Thomas-Williams (Indiana Coalition Against Domestic Violence), Skye Ashton Kantola (Consultant, Self-Advocate), Tammy Themel (AccessABILITY), Jody Powers (Consultant, Self-Advocate), Jennifer Milharcic (Consultant, Self-Advocate), and Haleigh Rigger (Indiana Coalition to End Sexual Assault and Human Trafficking). Together the leadership team works with the advisory council toward creating protective environments that enable thriving for people who are made vulnerable by systems inequity. IDJ 2021 goals include:

  1. Community Strengths and Needs Assessment (CSNA): reimplementing a survey tool to assess safety, independence, and sexual wellness of people with disabilities in Indiana who have experienced sexual harm;
  2. Organizational Assessment Tool: implementing a tool for use by organizations interested in preventing harm against people with disabilities, and identifying areas of improvement for disability services and opportunities for violence prevention;
  3. Educational resources: continue creating educational resources to empower people with disabilities in their self- and community-advocacy efforts, and educational resources to support service providers, caregivers, and businesses in working more effectively with people with disabilities;
  4. Resource Hub: host a website to house IDJ webinars, assessment tools, and blog sharing the voices of survivors with disabilities;
  5. Webinars: Implementing at least 5 new webinars focused on disability justice and sexual violence prevention;
  6. Evaluation: Developing and implementing creative, community‐building evaluation strategies to assess IDJ effectiveness and areas of improvement.

IDJ invites you to pick a protective environment and create or enhance the possibilities for positive and protective relations, organizations, and communities in service of an equitable society for people with disabilities, their allies, and everyone. Contact IDJ for coaching, training, and technical assistance at indisabilityjustice@gmail.com. Subscribe to the IDJ Hub to receive blog posts by survivors with disabilities, accessible prevention evaluation tools, and webinars that centralize disability in violence prevention.