I want to expand upon an issue raised by Dr. Jennifer Philips in her blog on military children’s resilience. Dr. Phillips explored some of the positive outcomes of military children who experience frequent relocations. Moving is a universal experience of military families, but it becomes even more complicated when the children in the family are in high school.
While at officer training at beautiful Maxwell AFB, Alabama, a fellow trainee remarked at how unattractive the base was. I defended the base quickly, “Don’t you know this is actually a nice base? The color scheme includes other colors besides brown.” If you hear some righteous indignation coming through the text on this page, you would not be mistaken. For me, the familiarity of the typical brown monotone of Air Force bases, and not a particular city, was my hometown. For me, military culture was not just something I was voluntarily taking on as all Service members do in training, but something I was born into.
In last week’s blog, Caitlin Cook and Kimberly Copeland provided a thoughtful and comprehensive introduction to the military child. The authors chose to examine military children from a cultural (strengths-based) perspective rather than a clinical or pathological view. In keeping with this strengths-based theme, and in continuing our recognition of April as the “Month of the Military Child”, this week’s entry highlights some of the often-overlooked benefits of growing up as a military child.
Thirty years ago, then Secretary of Defense Caspar W. Weinberger declared April the “Month of the Military Child.” This sentiment was later formalized with the passing of Senate Resolution 107 on April 23, 2013, which, in part, stated that “in honoring the children of members of the Armed Forces” we, the people, “recognize that those children also share in the burden of protecting the United States.”
It’s Wednesday afternoon, and I’m sitting, cross-legged, on a meditation cushion in the dayroom at a Veteran’s hospital. There are 13 Veterans sitting around the room; some of them are outpatients and some of them are participants in a residential PTSD program. Some of them are sitting on cushions, but most of them are in chairs. Another psychologist and a few psychology interns are there, too. We are all sitting in silence. About seven minutes into the final period of practice in our mindfulness group, the thought that I knew was coming finally presents itself, front and center, in my mind.