So we are moving. This has been a long time
in the making (3 years) and quite a bit of effort has been expended to make it
happen. When we got here to Korea just under 3 years ago I had a pre-schooler,
a 1st grader, a wife, as well as a cat. Well, the cat came 8 months
later (thanks again Mom and Dad for taking care of the poop-meister) but we
really tried hard to all get here together and for the most part we did. Now it
is 3 years later and I have two first graders, a 3rd grader, and a 4th
grader. I still have the same cat and the same (awesome) wife. We are all
excited to varying degrees about moving and there is a great veil of
anticipation that is waiting to be torn.
However, as excited as we all are there is a
lot of negative energy flowing about. Lena flat out told the neighbors today
that she is NOT happy about moving to the United States and I don’t blame her.
Her and Sujin were yanked out of their only known way of life back in October.
They have only now started, only started, to kind of adapt to our family,
American schools, and being forced to do things like homework, housework, and
get along with their siblings without bloodshed. Of course in my Colonial-istic
mindset I firmly believe that I am doing “the right thing” but at the same time
I cannot blame her or Sujin for not being as ecstatic about ANOTHER move as we
would like her to be. I firmly believe that we are doing “the right thing” in
bringing her out of the orphanage, into our family, providing her with a good
education, a strong and loving family, educational opportunities that were
never ever available to her, a support network that she never could have
dreamed of, and future possibilities that she cannot imagine. However I can’t
help but to think back to being a child and having those same words thrown at
me, failing to capitalize, and being told, “You’re not applying yourself,” or “you’re
throwing away all your talents,” and not having the slightest of clues as to
WHAT THESE ADULTS ARE TALKING ABOUT.
Meanwhile I’m pretty sure those outside of
the military community, namely my beloved parents, sisters, and relatives, all
believe me to be bat-shit insane for continuing in my current course of
employment. On the opposite side of the coin I am regularly reminded by
military members and families that I am part of the new “Greatest Generation”
or “1%” and that I am most definitely doing “the right thing” and that I’m a
hero for doing so. Since I have a habit of being contrarian I am going to head
on out to my far-flung spindly little… it’s not even a limb, it’s more of a
twig and tell both loving and dedicated camps that they are wrong. I am neither
crazy (at least in this) nor special. I’m just a dude that happened onto a line
of work that may or may not result in my dying a horrible death but also one
that allows me to do cool things like travel the world, lead people in a way
that most jobs don’t allow, and adopt kids.
For those that don’t know about the “1%”
allow me to explain. Some people with too much time on their hands and a bit
too much love for all things military figured out that today’s combat deployed
Soldiers encompass less than 1% of the American populace. And since we get shot
at, blown up, killed, maimed, and spend a LOT of time away from our families
that we should be put upon some REALLY high pedestal and be worshipped like
gods. And it kind of makes sense in a flag-waving support-our-military kind of
way, especially when coupled with powerful images of amputees or flag-draped
coffins or Soldiers in the midst of deprivation. Mirror those tear-jerking
images with some of fat-cat Wall Street types in their expensive cars and add
in some captions about bail-outs and troop deaths and you get yourself some
internet-meme gold. Too bad it’s mostly bullshit.
I volunteered to do this. I’m going to write
that again to drive the point home. I volunteered to do this. I was a college
dropout that had the option of working a slightly-above minimum wage job or
returning home to live with my parents when I got a call from the US Army
offering me an alternative. I jumped at it and joined the Army, re-enlisted
twice, took some night classes and got my degree, became an Officer (Enlisted =
blue collar; Officer = White Collar in the most layman’s of terms) and
volunteered to go fight on tanks WHILE THERE WAS A WAR GOING ON. I was not
drafted. I was not offered the choice of incarceration or going to war. I
raised my right hand and joined a fighting force with full knowledge that I
might get killed, maimed, emotionally scarred, physically scarred, spiritually
scarred, or mentally scarred. I did it because in my limited mind the reward
for the risks was worth it. In that time I found the most excellent of wives
who not only agreed with me but also supported me and pushed me to excel, had
two kids, adopted two more, and volunteered to go to war twice. I am only the
1% because I lack the common sense to focus on the whole “violent death” aspect
– just ask my mother who literally slaps me upside the head every time I see
her.
As for the separation from the family? I’m
not special. Any person who is in sales, international business, or any job
that requires travel does the same thing. No one is singing psalms of praise
for them in internet memes. In fact most of them are lumped into the “fat cat”
category and burned at the digital stake. I am not special. I am a special kind
of idiot.
The only way I am special is that I am now
dragging not one, not two, but five other people along on my merry journey, and
two of those people are getting the full fire hose enema of military life 6
months after they were dragged into it against their will. Two more of them
(Sora and Deuce) have just now started to settle into their groove here in
Seoul after we moved 9 months ago. None of those four children had any choice
in the matter. Sure Jenn and I have spent a lot of time weighing the pros and
cons of where to live and how to best serve our children, but in the end those
kids will move, like it or not. I am not part of the new “greatest generation”
I am part of the greatest jerk-squad.
I get myself to sleep every night focusing on
the positives. My kids will all speak at least two languages. They will have a
world-view that I never even thought possible until I was 19 years old. I’ve “saved”
two girls from the orphanage. I have more friends and more experience than I
ever thought possible and I think I’ve turned into an alright dude. I have the
greatest wife that God ever created. All of this is thanks to being a special
kind of idiot.
To Lena, Sora, Sujin, and Deuce: I love you
dearly, I have your best interests at heart, and I feel your pain. Moving sucks
and I hate it. If you are like me you will never get fully comfortable with
uprooting every 18 months. There are some silver linings to be had but it takes
a LOT of work to convince yourself that you’re doing the right thing. If you
don’t like it I highly recommend not becoming a Soldier or marrying one. I can’t
even offer to “make it up to you someday,” because right now the plan is to keep
doing this for quite a while. Once you’re a little older come talk to me about
this if it bothers you. I’ll listen.
