I spent this last Father’s Day in silent, burning rage at my dad, and it’s taken me three months to sort it out enough to write.
This is my personal blog, which is focused on creating peace. Come on in and kick off your shoes! I appreciate feedback and would love your thoughts and comments.
Showing posts with label trauma. Show all posts
Showing posts with label trauma. Show all posts
Happiness
“Most folks are about as happy as they make up their minds to be.” Abraham Lincoln
I was a big fan of biographies as a kid, and I liked this Abe Lincoln quote. I used it to motivate myself to take charge of my situation. But what happens when it no longer works?
A Family Disease
My precious daughter has a crippling illness that could very well kill her. It is progressive, and creates chemical changes in the brain and affects behavior. It has destroyed her ability to parent her children, or have healthy relationships with the people who love her the most. It has alienated her from loved ones, landed her in jail repeatedly, and pretty much destroyed her decision-making process. It is destroying her from the inside out, and all we can do is watch this train wreck helplessly.
This disease is called addiction. It kills countless people each year, yet it's one of the few diseases that carries a personal stigma against the sufferer. People feel comfortable calling people with addiction horrible names, such as tweaker, doper, loser, piece of shit, and many other hurtful things. I have even been attacked, as her mother, as it must have somehow been my fault that my daughter has this "flaw."
I'm guessing that nearly every parent of an addict has spent dark hours questioning where it all went wrong, examining every parenting mistake, every slip from perfection that may have caused hell on earth for their child. It's confusing to vacillate between grief, hope, anger, fear, shock, guilt, worry, resignation, and many other emotions toward that person, often within the same day. It's hard to look back through old photos and try to pinpoint something that maybe I missed, some clue I should have seen. It's a very efficient way to slowly go crazy, yet I still catch myself doing it.
I heard a quote on a page called, "I Hate Heroin" on Facebook that said, "You didn't cause it, you can't cure it, and you can't control it." This has helped some but there's still that "mom guilt," the worst guilt of all. Defying all logic, a part of me continues to question what I did wrong.
Like any other disease, no loved one wants to "give up" on the sufferer. We all love our family members, especially our children, and want to help them. It's a very hard road to find that fine line between helping and enabling; I'm still looking. What if the one time I turn my back was the one time she would have been ready to get help? What if I shut down contact and something horrible happens to her? Addiction doesn't just affect the person who has it; it's an equal opportunity destroyer. It affects entire families, workplaces, communities. Everyone who cares about the person is destroyed on some level, and it has changed me irrevocably.
It's hard when I'm on Facebook, and see memes and photos and jokes poking fun at people with addictions. I just can't see any humor in kicking people when they are down. Everyone of them makes me think of my daughter. The same people who think it's hilarious to put up pictures of "tweakers" wouldn't even think of posting jokes and pictures ridiculing those with other illnesses, such as heart disease or cancer. I know her children will grow up hearing her called horrible names and ridiculed by society. It's hard to know how to prepare them for this. I can no longer see those "funny" pictures without wondering who that person was before their life was destroyed, and if someone out there is hurt that their loved one's illness is being exploited for cheap laughs, or if anyone cares about them at all.
I feel the same way about the "People of Wal-Mart" pictures and other pictures who make fun of strangers in a mean way. How much intelligence and class does it take to kick someone when they're down? I don't know that person's story, whether it involves poverty or mental illness, or why they are dressed the way they are, but it's none of my business. How is this any different from the playground bullies who gather around to taunt others for their clothing and appearance? Can't we adults do better than that?
I KNOW who my daughter was, and is. She's a younger sister to two loving and protective brothers, and a kid sister to all of their friends. As a child, she was one of the most sweet and loving children I have ever met, and she still is one of the sweetest people I know. She loved everyone, and everyone loved her back. She was bubbly and funny and kind. She liked to sing, and had an adventurous tomboy spirit. She once had a dream of joining the coast guard and doing water rescues and saving lives. She still has a goofy and hilarious sense of humor, plays guitar, and loves to do outdoorsy things. She is an easy person to talk to, and someone her friends would often go to for advice, because she was always level-headed, empathetic, and wise. I raised her to be loyal, and she is; unfortunately, her loyalties are to people who don't deserve it, rather than to herself.
Last year, her mug shot was posted online, on a Facebook page that seems to exist for the purpose of giving unhappy people someone else to ridicule and hurt. As if it hadn't been bad enough watching this disease ravage my girl, worse yet was watching people post cruel, mocking comments on her photo as if she were some circus sideshow. It was horribly painful, and I don't wish it on any parent. Those people didn't know her, so it was easy to pick on her in her defenseless state. Yeah, she's not a little girl anymore, and I can't shield and protect her, but that doesn't justify her being persecuted. Her life is hard enough already, dammit. Some of her friends saw it, and deluged the site with comments in her defense. Tears streamed down my face, as I read the beautiful things that were said about her. They will never know how much that meant to me.
But what about those other people, those who don't have anyone? Are they worth any less? Why do we have to be so unkind, just because it's a stranger? Maybe you don't know that person who's in the People of Wal-Mart line-up, or in that mug shot. Maybe it makes you feel better not to know. But what if you did? Would you still post it? If you are ridiculing someone with a disease, what does that say about you?
I'm not doing it to "out" her, or to evoke sympathy. Our entire family has been devastated by her disease for over two years, and kept fairly quiet online, for the sake of her feelings. But it's not just about her at this point. It's a family disease. I don't feel I'm doing her any favors to tiptoe around this, when I feel her life is on the line. I'm writing this in the hopes it will help others to understand. I also hope that someday she will look back and read it and know how very much I love her, and I DO understand. With one out of twelve people in our society suffering from this disease, I know our family is not alone. There's a lot of us walking wounded out here.
Just like mental illness, addiction is seen in our society as a character flaw. There are genetic components to addiction, just as there are to eye and hair color, and diseases such as cancer and heart disease. In 50% of people with addiction, genetics plays a role. Some people can dabble in a substance and walk away; my daughter apparently couldn't. I've been trying to learn and understand the very complex facets of addiction, the physiological effects on the brain and body, and the chemical changes that take place in the brain that make a loving, warm person walk away from those she loves. And then the hardest part: applying t hose facts, not to some nameless statistic, but to my daughter. Here's some myth dispelling for starters:
www.psychologytoday.com/blog/where-science-meets-the-steps/201305/5-myths-about-addiction-undermine-recovery
Numerous studies show unequivocally that shaming people does not result in lasting, positive behavior change. So calling addicts weak, worthless, losers, etc., isn't going to give them the impetus they need to turn their lives around; it's only going to affirm what they believe about themselves to begin with, perpetuating cycles of self-destructive behavior. There's no "magic bullet" for addiction, but there is plenty of evidence to show that punishing people doesn't help. Rehabilitation can be very effective, if they are ready to take that step. Certainly calling someone horrible names is not a proven or effective method to help someone get straight. For that matter, even the word "addict" is a label and can hurt. A person is more than their addiction; it's like calling someone in a wheelchair a "cripple." Words can hurt.
I don't know what my daughter's future holds; everyone is different, but I will never give up hope. I plan to remind her at every opportunity that her family loves her and we are here for her. When she is ready to combat this beast, she won't be alone. Even in moments of deepest grief, I believe with all my heart that eventually she will find recovery and create a healthy life. So do the other people who really know her. I will not allow myself to lose sight of her real self, and I see glimpses of it in our sporadic conversations, and in pictures and moments, and I hold on tight to those.
But for the sake of every addicted person out there, and their families, let's please all be kind. Remember that person who looks terrible, whose picture you posted on your Facebook page, who everyone laughed about and said things like, "gross," and "what a loser," etc., is another human being less fortunate than you. Consider that they may have no knowledge of, or did not consent to, that picture being online at all. Think of some of the lowest points in your own life, and ask yourself how you'd feel if they were exploited as online entertainment. A little empathy goes a long way.
This disease is called addiction. It kills countless people each year, yet it's one of the few diseases that carries a personal stigma against the sufferer. People feel comfortable calling people with addiction horrible names, such as tweaker, doper, loser, piece of shit, and many other hurtful things. I have even been attacked, as her mother, as it must have somehow been my fault that my daughter has this "flaw."
I'm guessing that nearly every parent of an addict has spent dark hours questioning where it all went wrong, examining every parenting mistake, every slip from perfection that may have caused hell on earth for their child. It's confusing to vacillate between grief, hope, anger, fear, shock, guilt, worry, resignation, and many other emotions toward that person, often within the same day. It's hard to look back through old photos and try to pinpoint something that maybe I missed, some clue I should have seen. It's a very efficient way to slowly go crazy, yet I still catch myself doing it.
I heard a quote on a page called, "I Hate Heroin" on Facebook that said, "You didn't cause it, you can't cure it, and you can't control it." This has helped some but there's still that "mom guilt," the worst guilt of all. Defying all logic, a part of me continues to question what I did wrong.
Like any other disease, no loved one wants to "give up" on the sufferer. We all love our family members, especially our children, and want to help them. It's a very hard road to find that fine line between helping and enabling; I'm still looking. What if the one time I turn my back was the one time she would have been ready to get help? What if I shut down contact and something horrible happens to her? Addiction doesn't just affect the person who has it; it's an equal opportunity destroyer. It affects entire families, workplaces, communities. Everyone who cares about the person is destroyed on some level, and it has changed me irrevocably.
It's hard when I'm on Facebook, and see memes and photos and jokes poking fun at people with addictions. I just can't see any humor in kicking people when they are down. Everyone of them makes me think of my daughter. The same people who think it's hilarious to put up pictures of "tweakers" wouldn't even think of posting jokes and pictures ridiculing those with other illnesses, such as heart disease or cancer. I know her children will grow up hearing her called horrible names and ridiculed by society. It's hard to know how to prepare them for this. I can no longer see those "funny" pictures without wondering who that person was before their life was destroyed, and if someone out there is hurt that their loved one's illness is being exploited for cheap laughs, or if anyone cares about them at all.
I feel the same way about the "People of Wal-Mart" pictures and other pictures who make fun of strangers in a mean way. How much intelligence and class does it take to kick someone when they're down? I don't know that person's story, whether it involves poverty or mental illness, or why they are dressed the way they are, but it's none of my business. How is this any different from the playground bullies who gather around to taunt others for their clothing and appearance? Can't we adults do better than that?
I KNOW who my daughter was, and is. She's a younger sister to two loving and protective brothers, and a kid sister to all of their friends. As a child, she was one of the most sweet and loving children I have ever met, and she still is one of the sweetest people I know. She loved everyone, and everyone loved her back. She was bubbly and funny and kind. She liked to sing, and had an adventurous tomboy spirit. She once had a dream of joining the coast guard and doing water rescues and saving lives. She still has a goofy and hilarious sense of humor, plays guitar, and loves to do outdoorsy things. She is an easy person to talk to, and someone her friends would often go to for advice, because she was always level-headed, empathetic, and wise. I raised her to be loyal, and she is; unfortunately, her loyalties are to people who don't deserve it, rather than to herself.
Last year, her mug shot was posted online, on a Facebook page that seems to exist for the purpose of giving unhappy people someone else to ridicule and hurt. As if it hadn't been bad enough watching this disease ravage my girl, worse yet was watching people post cruel, mocking comments on her photo as if she were some circus sideshow. It was horribly painful, and I don't wish it on any parent. Those people didn't know her, so it was easy to pick on her in her defenseless state. Yeah, she's not a little girl anymore, and I can't shield and protect her, but that doesn't justify her being persecuted. Her life is hard enough already, dammit. Some of her friends saw it, and deluged the site with comments in her defense. Tears streamed down my face, as I read the beautiful things that were said about her. They will never know how much that meant to me.
But what about those other people, those who don't have anyone? Are they worth any less? Why do we have to be so unkind, just because it's a stranger? Maybe you don't know that person who's in the People of Wal-Mart line-up, or in that mug shot. Maybe it makes you feel better not to know. But what if you did? Would you still post it? If you are ridiculing someone with a disease, what does that say about you?
I'm not doing it to "out" her, or to evoke sympathy. Our entire family has been devastated by her disease for over two years, and kept fairly quiet online, for the sake of her feelings. But it's not just about her at this point. It's a family disease. I don't feel I'm doing her any favors to tiptoe around this, when I feel her life is on the line. I'm writing this in the hopes it will help others to understand. I also hope that someday she will look back and read it and know how very much I love her, and I DO understand. With one out of twelve people in our society suffering from this disease, I know our family is not alone. There's a lot of us walking wounded out here.
Just like mental illness, addiction is seen in our society as a character flaw. There are genetic components to addiction, just as there are to eye and hair color, and diseases such as cancer and heart disease. In 50% of people with addiction, genetics plays a role. Some people can dabble in a substance and walk away; my daughter apparently couldn't. I've been trying to learn and understand the very complex facets of addiction, the physiological effects on the brain and body, and the chemical changes that take place in the brain that make a loving, warm person walk away from those she loves. And then the hardest part: applying t hose facts, not to some nameless statistic, but to my daughter. Here's some myth dispelling for starters:
www.psychologytoday.com/blog/where-science-meets-the-steps/201305/5-myths-about-addiction-undermine-recovery
Numerous studies show unequivocally that shaming people does not result in lasting, positive behavior change. So calling addicts weak, worthless, losers, etc., isn't going to give them the impetus they need to turn their lives around; it's only going to affirm what they believe about themselves to begin with, perpetuating cycles of self-destructive behavior. There's no "magic bullet" for addiction, but there is plenty of evidence to show that punishing people doesn't help. Rehabilitation can be very effective, if they are ready to take that step. Certainly calling someone horrible names is not a proven or effective method to help someone get straight. For that matter, even the word "addict" is a label and can hurt. A person is more than their addiction; it's like calling someone in a wheelchair a "cripple." Words can hurt.
I don't know what my daughter's future holds; everyone is different, but I will never give up hope. I plan to remind her at every opportunity that her family loves her and we are here for her. When she is ready to combat this beast, she won't be alone. Even in moments of deepest grief, I believe with all my heart that eventually she will find recovery and create a healthy life. So do the other people who really know her. I will not allow myself to lose sight of her real self, and I see glimpses of it in our sporadic conversations, and in pictures and moments, and I hold on tight to those.
But for the sake of every addicted person out there, and their families, let's please all be kind. Remember that person who looks terrible, whose picture you posted on your Facebook page, who everyone laughed about and said things like, "gross," and "what a loser," etc., is another human being less fortunate than you. Consider that they may have no knowledge of, or did not consent to, that picture being online at all. Think of some of the lowest points in your own life, and ask yourself how you'd feel if they were exploited as online entertainment. A little empathy goes a long way.
Book Review - a must read
I just finished an incredibly important book, and hope others will read it. The book is called, “The Invisible Wounds of War: Coming Home from Iraq and Afghanistan” by Marguerite Guzman Bouvard. I figured it would be interesting stories about returning veterans, but it was so much more than that. It was really a call to action for all of us.
Military spouses and family members, and the vets themselves, will feel validated and heard as their see their lives reflected in the pages of this book. And it’s a story that needs to be told.
The first chapter gives a detailed explanation of the timeline, and many of the intricate politics involved, in both the Iraq and Afghanistan wars. While this is important information, I have to admit I skimmed it and will need to reread it later, because I was anxious to get to the stories of the vets themselves.
One of the many factors in the high rate of veteran suicides (18 per day) is the understandable reluctance of vets to ask for help. Military culture discourages vets from seeking the help they need, not only by characterizing those who ask for help as “weak” or “failures,” but also by penalizing those who come forward with denial of promotions, even in some cases dishonorable discharge. Over and over the author heard fear of reprisal from vets who desperately needed life-saving help. When they finally did ask for help, they were shrugged off, put on long waiting lists, or just handed sleeping pills. We as a society have a responsibility to challenge the mindset that stigmatizes PTSD, or face even more suicides.
The book is also a reminder that we have a war going on right now, which many people have managed to tune out. Military personnel are only 1% of the population (yet 20% of suicides), and they tend to be ignored by the media. This is seen as a huge betrayal by military families, who are resentful that deaths rarely merit more than a mention on the ticker at the bottom of the TV news. They are also sick to death of hearing how their loved one “volunteered,” as if that somehow invalidates the suffering and the need for treatment of PTSD, traumatic brain injury, hearing damage from IED’s, etc.
Prepare to be outraged at the lack of services and support for these people who stepped up to serve their country. Prepare to be horrified and saddened by their stories, their poetry, and their pain. Prepare to be deeply touched by the determination of their families to advocate for their loved ones and for all vets. Most of all, prepare to feel a deep sense of compassion, and a responsibility and commitment to spread the word about these injustices. The book is filled with resources, and the names and information about many programs which are working innovatively to help our vets.
Every young person who is even remotely considering a military career should read this book, especially young women. It should be required reading for high school students to help counteract the lies told by recruiters. They deserve to know what they are really getting into.
Tomorrow I’m reluctantly returning this book to the library, but its words will echo in my mind for a long, long time. I plan to buy the book, and reference it frequently. Most of us really want to support vets; this book shows how. It claims to be neither anti-war nor pro-war, but any logical person with an open mind could not be pro-war after reading it.
This song kept running through my mind as I read:
"Hero of War" by Rise Against
Veteran's Day
I intended for my first blog post to be about the new blog. But Monday is Veteran’s Day, an important day to me. The main theme of my blog is peace, and for too many veterans and their families, there is no peace; not when the fighting stops, not ever.
Eighteen veterans commit suicide each day in the United States. A staggering number for a population that was promised that they would “be all that you can be,” that they were “the few and the proud,” and that they would get an education and career, see the world, etc. Seems like such a group would be anything but suicidal, doesn’t it… yet eighteen per day choose to escape their pain by taking their own lives.
I can’t imagine the disillusionment they must feel. They enlist in the hopes of having a better life, then find out what war REALLY looks like, and I’m sure they must question why, in the big scheme of things, taking the lives of fellow human beings is going to make us a better country, or somehow freer.
Then they come home, many of them psychologically and/or physically wounded. And to what? Broken marriages and families, very little governmental or societal support, even foreclosed homes. A recent statistic shows 25% of them have serious PTSD; it is believed that this is a low number, because the culture of the military does not encourage people to reach out and ask for professional help.
Ask a vet who has suffered from the effects of Agent Orange how long it took the government to stop sweeping it under the rug. Victims were pooh-poohed, reports were suppressed, and every effort was made to avoid accountability for what they were suffering. We have seen a repeat with Desert Storm vets; what a sad irony that our own chemical weapons are killing our own soldiers. We seem to have plenty of money to kill and maim people, yet our veteran’s services providers continue to work in shabby little back offices on a shoestring budget. It is our national shame.
Since only 2% of the general population is psychotic and actually enjoys killing, it stands to reason that most people don’t enlist so they can leave their loved ones behind and go kill people. There are many reasons people enlist, but it seems a big factor is the “poverty draft,” in which people enlist because they feel they have no other economic option. You don’t see a lot of wealthy people joining the military; that's someone else's job. If legislators and their families were required to do military service, you would see a skyrocket in services to vets.
To be fair, some people build a good career in the military, but even then, there are challenges translating their combat experience into civilian job skills. I recently watched an interview with two combat medics who couldn’t get a nursing job in the civilian world, because they didn’t have the certifications. These are folks who had performed life-saving surgeries and worked triage in the most extreme of circumstances. The fact that our government has not adequately addressed this is another example of not supporting the troops.
As a peace activist, I am often questioned about whether I support our troops, and of course, my patriotism has been questioned. I think often about what it means to “support the troops.” For me, “the troops” includes my grandpa, my dad, the ones currently fighting, and the ones who are now stateside, still fighting their own very real demons, as well as their families. It includes all those enlisted who wish they hadn't, all those who have died, and left behind loved ones who have never been given answers. I support the troops in the way I would support a wayward child running with a bad crowd. I wish they didn’t make that sad choice to enlist, but I do understand why. I don’t like what they are doing, but I want them to be okay, and will do whatever I can to help. Once the choice is made, they are often changed forever and need all the support they can get. Supporting the troops does not mean supporting war,contrary to popular belief. I’d like to see our lawmakers start supporting our troops. And how does trying to create peace NOT support the troops?
While Veteran’s Day ceremonies are nice, and make everyone feel good for an hour or so, they don’t do a whole lot for that scruffy homeless guy with an empty stomach who is standing in front of Fred Meyer. Maybe he didn‘t have a ride to the ceremony, or maybe didn‘t want to watch while people waved flags and glorified the war that destroyed his life… who knows. But he served his country too. He is just trying to get through the day. As a community band member, I played patriotic music at many of those events, and I always left feeling empty. It also does NOT support our troops to keep dreaming up more wars to send them to. So how can we support our troops? I have a few ideas:
Bring them home.
Better services and resources for their medical, housing, counseling, and other needs.
Deprogramming and support around learning to reach out for help and assimilate back into their communities after trauma.
Thank them! (and that includes that scruffy, homeless guy in front of Fred Meyer, and not just on Veteran's Day).
End the wars.
Fight to have our bloated military budget (58% of federal discretionary spending) reduced, and those monies re-allocated to programs that help vets and their families, and those in poverty to be self-sufficient without having to enlist.
Talk with them, but also respect their right not to talk about it.
Work for peace, so our military can protect our country here at home, which by the way, was the intention of our founding fathers.
ASK THEM what they want.
Vote out of office those who do not support bills that support vets.
Sign petitions and stand with vets whose homes are being foreclosed.
These are just my ideas; I'm sure my veteran friends have more. I don't presume to speak for them. But I like my list better than just lip service. What do you think??
Right now in my community, there is a program that is directly helping vets (and their families) who are homeless or at risk of homelessness. For more information or to help, call CARE at 503-842-5261. CARE is also seeking volunteers for their warming center, which gives those living outside a safe, warm place to sleep during inclement weather.
There are Veterans For Peace chapters all over the place, including right here in Tillamook County. You don’t have to be a vet to join and support. Most vets are not beating the war drums, despite what the media may tell you, because they have already lived the horror and know the truth.
My son has a young friend who enlisted, basically due to the poverty draft. I stand peace vigil every Friday night on a street corner in my hometown, and whenever he drives by, he cheers for me and thanks me. I have stood with veterans at peace vigil and they know the truth: that true patriotism is wanting what is best for our country, and working to obtain it, not blindly blasting cannons at every problem at the expense of our young people.
This Veteran’s Day, let’s remember all the vets, honor them in the ways they wish to be honored, and make it a goal to improve the quality of all veterans’ lives by ending the wars.
Eighteen veterans commit suicide each day in the United States. A staggering number for a population that was promised that they would “be all that you can be,” that they were “the few and the proud,” and that they would get an education and career, see the world, etc. Seems like such a group would be anything but suicidal, doesn’t it… yet eighteen per day choose to escape their pain by taking their own lives.
I can’t imagine the disillusionment they must feel. They enlist in the hopes of having a better life, then find out what war REALLY looks like, and I’m sure they must question why, in the big scheme of things, taking the lives of fellow human beings is going to make us a better country, or somehow freer.
Then they come home, many of them psychologically and/or physically wounded. And to what? Broken marriages and families, very little governmental or societal support, even foreclosed homes. A recent statistic shows 25% of them have serious PTSD; it is believed that this is a low number, because the culture of the military does not encourage people to reach out and ask for professional help.
Ask a vet who has suffered from the effects of Agent Orange how long it took the government to stop sweeping it under the rug. Victims were pooh-poohed, reports were suppressed, and every effort was made to avoid accountability for what they were suffering. We have seen a repeat with Desert Storm vets; what a sad irony that our own chemical weapons are killing our own soldiers. We seem to have plenty of money to kill and maim people, yet our veteran’s services providers continue to work in shabby little back offices on a shoestring budget. It is our national shame.
Since only 2% of the general population is psychotic and actually enjoys killing, it stands to reason that most people don’t enlist so they can leave their loved ones behind and go kill people. There are many reasons people enlist, but it seems a big factor is the “poverty draft,” in which people enlist because they feel they have no other economic option. You don’t see a lot of wealthy people joining the military; that's someone else's job. If legislators and their families were required to do military service, you would see a skyrocket in services to vets.
To be fair, some people build a good career in the military, but even then, there are challenges translating their combat experience into civilian job skills. I recently watched an interview with two combat medics who couldn’t get a nursing job in the civilian world, because they didn’t have the certifications. These are folks who had performed life-saving surgeries and worked triage in the most extreme of circumstances. The fact that our government has not adequately addressed this is another example of not supporting the troops.
As a peace activist, I am often questioned about whether I support our troops, and of course, my patriotism has been questioned. I think often about what it means to “support the troops.” For me, “the troops” includes my grandpa, my dad, the ones currently fighting, and the ones who are now stateside, still fighting their own very real demons, as well as their families. It includes all those enlisted who wish they hadn't, all those who have died, and left behind loved ones who have never been given answers. I support the troops in the way I would support a wayward child running with a bad crowd. I wish they didn’t make that sad choice to enlist, but I do understand why. I don’t like what they are doing, but I want them to be okay, and will do whatever I can to help. Once the choice is made, they are often changed forever and need all the support they can get. Supporting the troops does not mean supporting war,contrary to popular belief. I’d like to see our lawmakers start supporting our troops. And how does trying to create peace NOT support the troops?
While Veteran’s Day ceremonies are nice, and make everyone feel good for an hour or so, they don’t do a whole lot for that scruffy homeless guy with an empty stomach who is standing in front of Fred Meyer. Maybe he didn‘t have a ride to the ceremony, or maybe didn‘t want to watch while people waved flags and glorified the war that destroyed his life… who knows. But he served his country too. He is just trying to get through the day. As a community band member, I played patriotic music at many of those events, and I always left feeling empty. It also does NOT support our troops to keep dreaming up more wars to send them to. So how can we support our troops? I have a few ideas:
Better services and resources for their medical, housing, counseling, and other needs.
Deprogramming and support around learning to reach out for help and assimilate back into their communities after trauma.
Thank them! (and that includes that scruffy, homeless guy in front of Fred Meyer, and not just on Veteran's Day).
End the wars.
Fight to have our bloated military budget (58% of federal discretionary spending) reduced, and those monies re-allocated to programs that help vets and their families, and those in poverty to be self-sufficient without having to enlist.
Talk with them, but also respect their right not to talk about it.
Work for peace, so our military can protect our country here at home, which by the way, was the intention of our founding fathers.
ASK THEM what they want.
Vote out of office those who do not support bills that support vets.
Sign petitions and stand with vets whose homes are being foreclosed.
Right now in my community, there is a program that is directly helping vets (and their families) who are homeless or at risk of homelessness. For more information or to help, call CARE at 503-842-5261. CARE is also seeking volunteers for their warming center, which gives those living outside a safe, warm place to sleep during inclement weather.
There are Veterans For Peace chapters all over the place, including right here in Tillamook County. You don’t have to be a vet to join and support. Most vets are not beating the war drums, despite what the media may tell you, because they have already lived the horror and know the truth.
My son has a young friend who enlisted, basically due to the poverty draft. I stand peace vigil every Friday night on a street corner in my hometown, and whenever he drives by, he cheers for me and thanks me. I have stood with veterans at peace vigil and they know the truth: that true patriotism is wanting what is best for our country, and working to obtain it, not blindly blasting cannons at every problem at the expense of our young people.
This Veteran’s Day, let’s remember all the vets, honor them in the ways they wish to be honored, and make it a goal to improve the quality of all veterans’ lives by ending the wars.
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