As I imagine many of you have figured out, I am the daughter of a career military man. My father served 22 years in the Army and Air Force, and continues to be involved in the military through his job as a test pilot for a major defense contractor. For me, this means that I grew up traveling, changing homes, meeting new people, and seeing the world. I also grew up on military bases, surrounded by soldiers and their families. This is an environment, a way of life, really, that few people are able to understand. Your life in some ways becomes very uncertain when you are depending on the military, but in other ways you have the security of a built-in community of people who understand you and are willing and ready to support you.
Being the daughter of a soldier has also led to me being a tough nut to crack when it comes to American foreign policy. I identify as a pacifist, because the thought of war is terrifying and horrible to me. Nevertheless, I understand one hundred percent why wars happen. I also understand the mindset of the people who "support" war, which I put in quotes because nobody really supports war. This leads to interesting political debates where I am left with nothing much to say except, "I agree with you, but don't say that again. You don't understand."
It's a lot like someone insulting a member of your family. You can complain about your relative, but God help anyone else who does.
The military part of my life continues to be a big part of me. I often wonder who I would have been if not for having been a brat. Would I be as independent? Would I be willing to travel around the world? On the other hand, would I have childhood friends? Would I trust in my own ability to have someone love me for more than three years at a time?
Today, I went with my father to a military ceremony, specifically a changing of command and retirement ceremony. There was a lot of pomp, which was to be expected. What I didn't expect was how I would be affected. I've sat through dozens of these things in my lifetime, including the retirement ceremony for my own father, and to be honest I don't really remember any of them. At the time, to me, they were nothing more than just a normal part of my life. Having been removed from the military system for several years now, and from America itself, the ceremony today affected me a lot more profoundly than I expected.
The national anthem makes me cry now. It's true that absence makes the heart grow fonder, and when you hear the song that represents your country and the sacrifice of your father (and your family) only once or twice a year it is bound to have a greater impact. I learned this my first Christmas back from Hungary when I found myself crying at a hockey game, so I wasn't surprised. What I was surprised by was the emotion I felt over the reflections on family. What I was really surprised by was my quick succession of distaste at an aggressive line in several speeches, immediately followed by a gutting sadness at a reference to sacrifice in the very next line, immediately followed by respect for the dedication referenced in the following line.
How do you make those feelings work together?
I think that today I figured out why I get so angry when people make anti-war comments that I politically and intellectually agree with... it's that most people feel that stab of distaste at aggression and (arguably righteous) anger, but they don't hear or understand the next line, the line about sacrifice and loneliness and isolation. No matter how much lip service is paid, they don't respect the dedication. And they can't, because they just don't know it.
You see a picture of a soldier petting a kitten, and half the world sees the kitten, half the world sees the soldier's giant gun. It's very rare that people see both, and understand that both aspects are equally real. The two things are very hard to reconcile with each other. Sometimes the world is really hard to understand.
No comments:
Post a Comment