As I have gotten more and more involved with the various “Brat” groups now showing up on Facebook (FB), I can sense a certain “spirituality” about it all. There’s no denying it, it’s there for me – a sense of “belonging,” a sense of being “connected.” I don’t know any of the folks I have met on FB; but I know them all…and I love them all. (Now, that wasn’t too hard, was it Bob?)
In his Introduction to Mary Edwards Wertsch’s book, Pat Conroy says, “I grew up knowing no one well, least of all myself, and I think that damaged me…” I do too. Even today I ‘feel’ “damaged” more than anything else, other than perhaps “sadness.” That damned sadness…
I always ‘just pretended’ that it was okay that ‘you’ were always leaving. That I could always ‘refriend’ in September, at the beginning of the school year, or at the next base, and that would be okay. I don’t think this was a ‘conscious’ thought, but in retrospection, it was there just the same. Maybe my way of dealing with the continued loss of friends, homes and schools – of dealing with grief. Pretending…
I suppose my ‘coping mechanism’ worked for a while, but I eventually became too dependent upon it. It became second nature to me. Pretending. The “go-to-hell” pilot, in the “go-to-hell” hat with the “go-to-hell” sunglasses. And behind it all was a little kid, scared shitless. Fear.
I allowed ‘fear’ to consume my life because I (suppose) I had been so hurt by ‘love.’ Yes – Jay, Jerry, Marsha, Bill, Bonnie, Judy, Dana, Patte, Dieter, Doc, to name but a few of the kids, of the brats from my youth – I loved you all. Still do. So I retreated deep within myself, to ‘protect’ myself. Or so I thought… what I did was, I severed myself from society, and that damaged me. I just ‘pretended,’ for so many years; I pretended…
Today, in these Brat FB groups (the Groups) I am finding hope. Maybe, just maybe, I can find my way out of my self-imposed isolation…
The ‘discoveries’ I am seeing in the Groups, are the same I have felt all my life upon stumbling upon other Brats. When I would find out that you were a Brat my “defense mechanisms” would drop – right away – because for those brief moments that we talked and shared experiences, I knew I was “safe.” I was with “my people.” It didn’t matter which service you were from; it was, and always has been, that “Brat” connection.
It took me a while to understand the true nature of these connections I so look forward to, and treasure so much – they are “spiritual connections” for me. And they are so powerful.
In reading Conroy’s Introduction to Mary’s book, I “related” to his comments: “Our greatest tragedy is that we don’t know each other,” and “We’d never stopped to honor ourselves, out loud, for our understanding service to America.”
Well why the hell not? Why doesn’t someone do something, do anything, about this? Anger! (And behind my anger here was ‘fear.’ My ‘fear?’ That of maybe finding someone again, and losing them again…more hurt.)
And then I read, “…that military brats, my lost tribe, spent their entire youth in service to this country and no one even knew we were there.” And in December 2009, upon reading this, I knew who that ‘someone’ was going to be…
And this is how the BratPin began…
When I began searching for an icon to use on the pin I wasn’t “shot-in-the-head” at all with the dandelion. But it kinda “grew on me,” to where today I wouldn’t consider anything else. Who knew? Today I look at them in a totally different light. Today I sense a “spiritual connection” when I see a dandelion. Whether it be in a picture, or on FB, a t-shirt or out in the yard – that “connection” is there for me today. I can’t get away from it; don’t want to today, and it brings a quiet smile to me today…
So maybe when you see my BratPin, maybe you’ll reach out to me, and I’ll know I am no longer alone, and I can stop this damn ‘pretending’… and be myself, for all there is without ‘pretending.’ And maybe I can begin to reverse ‘the damage’ I feel.
This then, is the essence, and the spirituality, of the BratPin…
