Talk
When I got back from Gulf War I, I was having a hard time. Reality adjustment. It felt very amorphous at the time, and even more so now. I went to see a counselor at the VA. She was kind, but had not been in the military at all, and I found myself explaining all kinds of largely irrelevant details. Later, I found myself chatting with a counselor in a vet center where D was working as a work study. This went much better, felt more like swapping stories, fluid and easy. The language was there, so the distress I was having trouble defining, nonetheless communicating, hove into view. He talked with me for almost three hours, and at the end, I had the clarity to deal on my own. A tough old Vietnam Vet, with an understanding ear for a vaguely stressed National Guard weekender back from a footnote war. But he didn't see me that way, and I am deeply grateful.
Yesterday, I worked with a rep, and I assume he did some kind of military service. An offhand remark, a proper response. It's like I'm in some weird secret society, having done even my little bit of military service. Perhaps because I do not blow it up, never pretend more experience than I had, I am allowed in. I know how to talk to soldiers, even reluctant part time ones.
That kind of shorthand learned in similar circumstances gives a background of ease. I knew I would never marry anyone who had not done some kind of military service, needing to explain so many little reactions and in jokes would have been exhausting every moment of every day. Less so 15 years on, as other life changes have overlaid them. But I know why D removes his hat at the same moment I do when we go into a building. When a dish is heard to drop, we say Airborn. I straighten his collars, he adjusts my hat. The shirts in the closet face right. We see an actor in a movie and I say,
"Remember that guy?" Meaning Sgt. Hull, and D says,
"Yeah."
And we do. And probably a hundred other small actions germinated there, that we are no longer conscious of.
It came to me then, that the pervasive subtle racism, as opposed to the self conscious and overt bigotry, is in part, the same mechanism. It's just hard, all the time, to have to translate, never assume, never flow, in daily conversation. So much less work to interact with those for whom a look transmits a completely understood message- with all implications a thousand words would require to get the gist across for an outsider. I'm still dealing with Boston speech, where door and drawer are pronounced identically. I feel this overwhelming ache to be around others like myself, even though I have no idea who they would be. It's important, it's enriching, but tiring, and we are a lazy species.
And putting everyone through the Army is not the answer. To quote D,
"The Army is an Idiot."
I know what he means.
Yesterday, I worked with a rep, and I assume he did some kind of military service. An offhand remark, a proper response. It's like I'm in some weird secret society, having done even my little bit of military service. Perhaps because I do not blow it up, never pretend more experience than I had, I am allowed in. I know how to talk to soldiers, even reluctant part time ones.
That kind of shorthand learned in similar circumstances gives a background of ease. I knew I would never marry anyone who had not done some kind of military service, needing to explain so many little reactions and in jokes would have been exhausting every moment of every day. Less so 15 years on, as other life changes have overlaid them. But I know why D removes his hat at the same moment I do when we go into a building. When a dish is heard to drop, we say Airborn. I straighten his collars, he adjusts my hat. The shirts in the closet face right. We see an actor in a movie and I say,
"Remember that guy?" Meaning Sgt. Hull, and D says,
"Yeah."
And we do. And probably a hundred other small actions germinated there, that we are no longer conscious of.
It came to me then, that the pervasive subtle racism, as opposed to the self conscious and overt bigotry, is in part, the same mechanism. It's just hard, all the time, to have to translate, never assume, never flow, in daily conversation. So much less work to interact with those for whom a look transmits a completely understood message- with all implications a thousand words would require to get the gist across for an outsider. I'm still dealing with Boston speech, where door and drawer are pronounced identically. I feel this overwhelming ache to be around others like myself, even though I have no idea who they would be. It's important, it's enriching, but tiring, and we are a lazy species.
And putting everyone through the Army is not the answer. To quote D,
"The Army is an Idiot."
I know what he means.
Labels: Army, custom, D, love story
Posted by Zhoen on Saturday, April 15, 2006
8 comments:
(o)
"I know how to talk to soldiers..."
Perhaps what's just as important (or more) is that you know how to listen to them.
I find it interesting that you're aware of some, at least, of these details. I wonder how many people in similar circumstances don't recognise how they've changed, let alone thought about it. Great writing, Zhoen, and a particularly powerful ending.
Good point about talking to vs listening to military folks. But talking the talk means they will talk with you, so that you have talk to listen to. Stories are swapped, one good "No shit, there I was..." deserves another. Coin of the realm. If you've been reading Doonsbury over the last few months, the Vet counselor had to give a good enough story of his own to get B.D. to open up and tell his.
Which I had in my head, but didn't spell out. One of those shortcuts.
That's the best description of institutionalized racism I've ever seen. This was such an interesting entry, Zhoen - on all kinds of levels - and really made me think.
a counselor at the VA ... had not been in the military at all
What the .... ? I wish I thought that you were kidding.
Great post.
... makes me think too, this post - and I tend to agree with your conclusion.
Human beings so much need to connect and to belong, to be recognised, and the flow you talk about is a sign that this is probably happening, and yes of course it is tiring to have to explain everything ... This is such an atavistic thing you're writing about. Very good post.
Yeah, an excellent essay. Only thing I want to quibble with is your use of the term "racism" for something so pervasive and subtle. I tend to side with those who feel that the r-word should be retained for conscious, race-based hatred. I mean, if we're all racist, no one's really racist, you know? Kind of lets the real bigots off the hook.
That said, I think you're absolutely right to finger laziness and comfort-level as culprits in the formation of the in-group mentality - and also serious bigotry (including racism). Getting to know other people as individuals is *work*. Much easier just to generalize and pigeon-hole.
Culturism? Classism? Sexism? I agree racism is not the correct term, since there are no races, we are all one species. I am hard pressed for a commonly understood term that covers the point. See what I mean about shorthand? Gets us all in trouble.
We all have prejudices. When we act on them, it is bigotry. When it pervades our actions despite our best efforts, what do we call it? When it can come from anyone from any group, toward anyone from another group, what is a better word?
I simply meant to ponder the mechanism, anyway. Just had a momentary insight, it could be all wrong.
"I think that fish is nice. But then I think that rain is wet, so who am I to judge?" - Douglas Adams.
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