Honor all veterans!
In 1962 I entered the military services. At that time, I put up my hand and swore that I would support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic. It was a proud moment in my life.
The real battle began the day I was released back to civilian life. No one prepared me for that. The protests against the Vietnam conflict were happening all over the country. Race riots were going on in major cities across the country and only blocks from where I lived in Buffalo NY. Veterans were being harassed on college campuses and in the workplace. I came home in 1967 to a different United States of America than the one I had departed from.
I tried not to pay attention to these things and focus on getting on with my life. Not many people wanted to hear that I was a veteran. That confused me. I stopped at my local American Legion thinking they would surely offer some re-enforcement to a coming home vet. The bar was filled with veterans who had served from my hometown. I knew most of them though they were older and had served during Korea and WWII. When they found out I had just come home they just shrugged their shoulders and walked away. I was disappointed and confused. I never visited there again.
I found employment in an insurance office in Buffalo, NY. I worked as a clerk in a large office. One day I went into the coffee room for a break. There was a girl in that office that I really wanted to get to know but was too shy to approach and she was on break too. She was talking to some other ladies when I walked in. She got up from her table and walked over to me. She asked if I was a veteran. I thought this was my chance to get to know her and answered proudly that I am a veteran. Her face turned red with anger, and she threw her coffee in my face. I was totally taken off guard as she began hitting me on the chest and face. I just stood there speechless as she yelled at me that I was a bastard, a baby killer, nothing more than an animal. This went on as others in the office ran into the coffee room to see what all the commotion was about. Finally, another man, an older veteran who had served in Korea, came in and pulled this girl off me. I was told to take the rest of the day off and she was sent back to her desk to work. That night I went to school at The University of New York at Buffalo. As I pulled into the parking lot, I was greeted by National Guard troops. They were there to watch the parking lot designated for veterans attending school and to escort veterans to their classes for the veterans' protection. It was one of the worst days of my life. Protesters would spit at us as we entered class, and it seemed as if we were now the enemy.
I swore that I would never again admit that I was a veteran and carried that shame for the following twenty-five years. I stopped going to school.
I am proud of who I am and who I have become. I try to be careful to make sure people know who I am in my Native walk so that people do not confuse me with those that would try to take from my Native brothers and sisters. What I have learned was not taken but gifted by many Elders of the native community.
From the time at that powwow to the present I have learned from Native Elders. They have gifted me a sense of balance and centering so I could have a good life helping others as they have helped me. One does not have to tell others who they are. Others will know by how one walks in this lifetime.
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