Awhile back I wrote about some conversations my brother and I had regarding my military service. He is involved in Veteran Voices, a non-profit organization based in L.A. that is working (among other things) to create a sounding board, if you will, for veterans' stories through stage productions. My brother, an actor and writer, was hoping to bring my voice to the public...a request that I found both touching and humbling.
In my experience, and based upon conversations with other veterans, one of the common things we feel is isolation. No two people experience war in the same way, not even if they served side-by-side. It is challenging to convey the vast spectrum of feelings that go along with military service during war, or the challenges of re-integrating oneself into "regular, everyday life" after such an experience with people who have similar experiences. Now imagine the difficulty in explaining what it was like to folks who have no frame of reference other than what the evening news shows...daunting, comes to mind. And this daunting nature keeps many of us from ever discussing our experiences until we absolutely must (I'm sure you can imagine the various reasons that may lead to "must"). Veteran Voices serves as a medium for conveying our stories...showing us that there are, in fact, people who want to better understand where we're coming from.
Sharing some of my stories with my brother was interesting and ended up being a very healing experience. When I read the rough draft he'd written, intended to be performed as a monologue, it brought me to tears. Tears of frustration, anger, sadness, and then...finally...of relief. I read those lines and felt every ounce of pent-up rage that inspired them. I remembered the hollow feeling of my loneliness, and the ache of not knowing when I would be able to come home. I felt again the wariness that was my companion for five months, and the fatigue borne of constant vigilance. Then, to my surprise, I realized that those feelings felt stale, dried-up and outdated. They were still in me, but needn't remain part of me. They are part of what molded me into the woman I am today, and so were valuable tools in my own making. That, I believe, is a very important distinction: those experiences, like all others, are tools that forge one's character...they do not comprise the character itself.
The current show will be up through October. I was invited to come see it, and host a post-production "talk back" question and answer time, but unfortunately my schedule did not allow for such a trip this month. I hope that future production dates will coincide with some travel weekends for me so that I can be part of this interactive healing project. Please, if you live in the Los Angeles area, take the time to go and hear some Veteran Voices.
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