Sometimes I wonder exactly what is going on over at the Public Affairs wing of the office of Secretary of Defense (SECDEF). The Armed Forces Information Service, which is a branch in SECDEF’s PR office, has an online news service called Early Bird, a daily compilation of print news and commentary significant to DOD personnel. In recent months, as the debate over repealing DADT has persistently shoved its way into conversation, the Early Bird news service has reported on every development. In an in interesting twist, the stories in Early Bird since late last year have been more favorable towards repeal than they have been in the past few years. Certainly I've seen far fewer stories referencing Elaine "pictures in the shower" Donnelly than in the past. Whether that is due to a shift in public sentiment, opinions of troops, a reflection of unofficial sentiment in Defense Department/Administration, or simply because most news media corporations favor repeal, I couldn't say. The Early Bird post on Saturday included a re-print of this article about a documentary in a series called, "In Their Boots"One of the rarely discussed effects of the military's "don't ask, don't tell" rule is the burden it places on the civilian partners of gay and lesbian service members. When their loved ones go to war, they do not have access to any of the counseling, financial assistance or support networks offered to heterosexual spouses. And if their loved ones die, no one will come knocking at their doors to notify them.On Thursday, gay veterans and their partners shared their experiences at the local premiere of "Silent Partners," a 30-minute documentary offering a glimpse into the lives of three gay "military spouses" waiting for their partners to come home. In Their Boots: Silent Partners is a 36-minute movie about the loved ones of LGBT troops living under a cloak of secrecy. I wonder how many troops will actually read that article, how many will bother clicking over to watch the movie. I wonder if they will stop and think about the pain we live in, and if their hearts and minds will be changed just a little bit, or if they will just shrug their shoulders and say, "Fags shouldn't be here in the first place." From "D," whose partner Clay is currently deployed to Iraq: I think why the reason [the policy] has been such a failure is because they were completely unable to imagine how it would impact gay and lesbian families because, I don't even think, perhaps the concept of gay and lesbian families ever occurred to them. I'm not only a gay veteran. I'm the partner of an active duty servicemember. "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" isn't just a closet for people like me. It's a prison cell. It sucks everyone in and slams the bars behind them, shackles us all in manacles attached to the floor. Then an American flag is hung on the wall to cover up the door and muffle the cries coming from inside so the people serving openly won't be disturbed by us. More below the fold. |
| DADT is to me what a lack of UAFA is to a binational couple. It means that officially, I do not exist to my Beloved. It means little things, seemingly trivial parts of the closet we are all familiar with. When her fellow troops chat about what they did over the weekend with their spouses and children, she "hung out with friends." When her command has picnics or other "family days," she goes alone or not at all. When she receives an award or is promoted, I am not there to smile, take pictures, or pin on her new rank, like other wives are. When she reenlisted, there was no certificate of appreciation acknowledging my sacrifice as a spouse. There was no handshake from her C.O. There was just the two of us and a sympathetic reenlisting officer who is my personal friend; she refused the customary big ceremony because, among other reasons, I would not have been able to see her raise her right hand again. It means bigger things, like no commissary benefits for me, which would cut down on the grocery bill in these tighter economic times. (DECA recently changed their policy on allowing "sponsored guests" inside commissaries, which means I can't even go grocery shopping with her like I used to.) It means I must do whatever it takes to stay employed, because if I lose my job I will have no Tricare coverage for health care, like a real spouse would. It means always having a fake second bedroom set up in our apartment so that if someone from her unit comes over, we're "just roommates." It means life-altering, heartrending things. Soon my Beloved will be sent away overseas, to a place I cannot follow her. We will be ripped apart for at least two years. Unlike opposite-sex spouses, I cannot receive command sponsorship to live with her on base. The military will not allow her to keep her family with her when posted overseas. She will not receive separation allowance as compensation for being taken away from her mate. If something happens to her, I will not know unless her family calls me. If something happens to me, she will not be told, or be allowed to come home to be with me, as a spouse would. She will not even be allowed to acknowledge her pain lest it give her away to her chain of command. From Ben Cartwright, whose partner had been misinformed of his death while deployed: My partner was informed mistakenly that I had died, and he of course was freaking out, but could not vocalize that to anyone. He just had to suck it up and he tried to- he couldn't even get to a phone for three or four days. Just imagine someone dying...and the person that you think died was invisible. I was invisible. And he had to just suffer for three days until he could get to that phone. This is our life. It is a unique, bittersweet hell of contradiction. In one moment I stand tall, proud of my partner, supportive of her service. In the next moment, I am screaming, crying to heaven, howling in bitter despondency at the unfairness of it all. From "D": It's easy to get caught up in your own misery and pain, and wear it around like a badge of honor. But it is foolish to think that you can brush those things aside as if they have no power or meaning. The answer, I think, is to face the pain as honestly as you are able. Wail at it, shake your fists at it. Howl. Sob. And then walk on. Come back if you need to, but do not dwell, for the ground there is a sloppy muck that will suck you in if you stay to wallow. I understand her decision to reenlist, her myriad of reasons. As a veteran, I have already lived this life myself. I know what it means to her. It means more to us as a team than it could ever mean to us as individuals. I'm still in the defense world as a civilian. It feels so right to still be on the team with her, even if I'm no longer in uniform. "Don't Ask" is such an insult to both our years of service. It's a daily slap in the face. We both love this country, our Constitution, with our whole hearts. Strange as it sounds, it's part of our love for each other. There's a bond between servicemembers that civilians just don't understand. When we fall in love with another soldier or sailor, another airman or Marine, there is already an unspoken tie, a shared understanding, a sense of team that isn't there in civilian relationships. That bond, that underlying sense of team, is a huge part of what helps me cope with the pain and uncertainty of this life. From an active soldier partnered with another active soldier: Recently I had an opportunity to take a promotion and go to a unit that wasn't deployed. I ultimately decided to stay with my unit because I didn't get back into the Army to get promoted. I got back into the Army to lead soldiers. The irony of that is, if they find out I'm gay I will automatically be discharged for destroying unit morale. When I separated from active service I initially applied to the Reserves as an officer because I couldn't bear the thought of not being there for my fellow servicemembers in some capacity. In the end, I decided to not go through with it, because the closet my Beloved was already in was all I could bear. When I told the recruiter why I was withdrawing my package, his jaw about hit the desk. He sputtered, "But...your package was the strongest I've ever seen! We need you!" I looked at him and reiterated, "But I'm a lesbian. You don't really WANT me." He asked me if I couldn't just go back in the closet, that he wouldn't tell anyone. All I could do was shake my head and leave. "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" at its core is about protecting the bigotry of homophobes. Not only does it keep people like my partner from serving honorably without fear, it keeps people like me in the closet. It hurts us. It hurts people like Kaether Cordero, partner of the late SN August Provost. Mr. Cordero was not informed of his loved one's death by a Casualty Assistance Officer, who could have helped him navigate the complicated maze of DOD paperwork and assistance services. Instead, he heard about it on the news, and was left with nothing but his grief, and empty arms. The armed services make a lot of noise about "Core Values." The Navy and U.S. Marine Corps claim that Honor, Courage, and Commitment are at the root of every Sailor and Marine. The Army Core Values are Loyalty, Duty, Respect, Selfless Service, Honor, Integrity, and Personal Courage. The Air Force espouses "Integrity first, Service before self, and Excellence in all we do." There is no honor, no integrity in having to hide a core truth about yourself. There is no courage in "de-gaying" your house every time someone comes over. There is no excellence in being unable to provide your loved one life insurance or health care. There is no respect for the invisible family members of LGBT troops who suffer in silence while their spouses deploy. The only core value I see in "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" is hate. |
