Thinkin' About... Military Brats
Today I'm thinking about military brats. Most people know the term: son or daughter of a career military person (meaning: you moved every two or three years your entire life until you finished high school, or some variation on that theme). And if you ARE a military brat, you are painfully familiar with the feelings/memories/circumstances the term evokes for you.
Being a military brat is both a blessing and a curse, in my view. A blessing because it teaches you how to get along with all kinds of people; how to fit in to all types of situations; how to converse with strangers; how to make friends when you are the new kid; how important it is to be welcoming to newcomers when you AREN'T the new kid; how to follow rules and be respectful; how to honor your country and the people who serve in the Armed Forces.
It's a curse for many military brats because we learn at an early age that making friends means a broken heart sooner or later: either you, or your best friend, will move away just when you really get close. It's a curse because if you are lucky enough to have a pet in one tour of duty, you have to leave it behind when you move, and here comes another broken heart. It's a curse because every time your heart breaks while you are growing up this way, you add one more brick to the wall that will eventually surround, and protect, your heart.
You envy the kids you meet who tell you they have lived in the same town their entire life, and have had the same best friend since kindergarten. At the same time, you may secretly mock them for their tunnel-vision view of the world, their small-town outlook, their ignorance of what a big world it is out there. It's easy to be smug and superior about your life experiences, even when in your heart of hearts you long for the sense of belonging these people must feel.
Once you are grown up and you've maybe settled in one city, put down roots, established a career, you may find that you struggle to let anyone get inside that huge wall you have built. Why bother? One of you is bound to leave. If you just don't let them get close in the first place, it won't hurt so much when you, or they, go away.
I think Herman Wouk put it best in his book, The Winds of War. His character, Pug, is talking to his son when they have returned to look at one of the many homes they lived in during Pug's military career. "That's the worst of a service career," Pug said. "You never strike roots. You raise a family of tumbleweeds."
I'm guessing there are some military brats out there who have overcome the built-in hurdles and established loving relationships, lifelong friendships, and strong community ties. I'm still struggling with it in my life, all these years later. I have to remind myself every single day that it's okay to get close, it's okay to care about someone, it's okay to take that risk.
Being a military brat is both a blessing and a curse, in my view. A blessing because it teaches you how to get along with all kinds of people; how to fit in to all types of situations; how to converse with strangers; how to make friends when you are the new kid; how important it is to be welcoming to newcomers when you AREN'T the new kid; how to follow rules and be respectful; how to honor your country and the people who serve in the Armed Forces.
It's a curse for many military brats because we learn at an early age that making friends means a broken heart sooner or later: either you, or your best friend, will move away just when you really get close. It's a curse because if you are lucky enough to have a pet in one tour of duty, you have to leave it behind when you move, and here comes another broken heart. It's a curse because every time your heart breaks while you are growing up this way, you add one more brick to the wall that will eventually surround, and protect, your heart.
You envy the kids you meet who tell you they have lived in the same town their entire life, and have had the same best friend since kindergarten. At the same time, you may secretly mock them for their tunnel-vision view of the world, their small-town outlook, their ignorance of what a big world it is out there. It's easy to be smug and superior about your life experiences, even when in your heart of hearts you long for the sense of belonging these people must feel.
Once you are grown up and you've maybe settled in one city, put down roots, established a career, you may find that you struggle to let anyone get inside that huge wall you have built. Why bother? One of you is bound to leave. If you just don't let them get close in the first place, it won't hurt so much when you, or they, go away.
I think Herman Wouk put it best in his book, The Winds of War. His character, Pug, is talking to his son when they have returned to look at one of the many homes they lived in during Pug's military career. "That's the worst of a service career," Pug said. "You never strike roots. You raise a family of tumbleweeds."
I'm guessing there are some military brats out there who have overcome the built-in hurdles and established loving relationships, lifelong friendships, and strong community ties. I'm still struggling with it in my life, all these years later. I have to remind myself every single day that it's okay to get close, it's okay to care about someone, it's okay to take that risk.
posted by nobaddays_in_sd | 9:29 PM
1 comments:
I just found your blog, when I searched for blogs about military brats. I wish I had seen the quotation from The Winds of War when I was writing my book, Military Brats: Legacies of Childhood Inside the Fortress. You may want to take a look at my book, which is the first and only book to analyze the military as a home culture for us brats, looking at how it shapes and influences us well into adulthood. The stories people shared with me were so powerful. It helps a lot to read that others have had the same hurts and the same triumphs. Writing that book was the best possible therapy--it put my own lived experience in context, and helped me find and cherish the benefits of that upbringing. If you want to investigate my book, go to my web site, www.brightwellpublishing.com. My book was in the hands of three other publishers for the last 15 years; I got the rights back last fall and established Brightwell Publshing, which specializes in works that explore and strengthen military brat cultural identity. I am also selling the new documentary film about brats, based on my book--"BRATS: Our Journey Home," by Army brat Donna Musil.
--Mary Edwards Wertsch
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