Tuesday 10 March 2015

"I'm not the man they think I am back home, I'm a rocketman."

I'll be honest. I completely forgot I had a blog. The Peace Corps and New Orleans days are so far behind me at this point. I write to you from a coffee shop in Galveston, TX-- a god-forsaken island off the Gulf Coast. I am now in the military. I am now 27, and in the military. I've had so many experiences... never did I expect to be here but alas, life takes crazy turns. So... in the words of David Byrne, "HOW DID I GET HERE?"

Let's start off from New Orleans, the last place I left you. New Orleans was a crazy almost 3 year drunken blur of parties, friends, and amazing experiences. After completing my term with the Red Cross as an Americorps disaster resiliency worker, which consisted of hurricane Isaac relief, tornado response, various fires, and somehow a car accident involving a house and 4 parked cars on Christmas night, I was offered a job with JNOLA, a Jewish non-profit in Metarie, LA (a suburb of NOLA.) I promptly left after 1 month, realizing it was not what I wanted in an agreement with the CEO. I took my separation pay and ran. I then continued to live in NOLA for almost 2 more years, making ends meat as an employee of Groundwork New Orleans (a non-profit dedicated to environmental education of inner-city youth) while also walking dogs on the side. (Somewhere in there I worked for the French Market produce stand but that was brief and disastrous.) My employment history is almost as extensive as my life experiences....

Anyway, after years of parties, running, masquerading and poverty, I decided to stop struggling in the non-profit world and joined the Coast Guard, with dreams of becoming an Officer and heading the Marine Science Strike team, an oil-response program. I spent 09 weeks in basic training, struggling to become militant from the professional non-profit world... a very difficult transition to say the least.

09 months later, I am here, in Galveston, TX, working for a small patrol boat attempting my last qualification before receiving an Officer recommendation. It has been SO difficult here. I am very different from the typical 18 year old, straight out of high school, non-rate. Between my age and life experiences it's very difficult to be passionate about scrubbing heads or other innate tasks. Regardless, I am here, learning a lot each day, the struggle getting less and less real. I received my marks today, most ratings "above average" and one "excellent." Fairly good considering how much I errored in my first few months.

The hardest part being the constant monitoring by "big brother" about whereabouts, when you can and cannot drink, constant barracks inspections, who you can and cannot have sex with, basically having each aspect of your life controlled by an outside party, a party who you have generally nothing in common with. Country music and fox news are constantly on the playlist of the boat, Republican and sometimes sexist notions thrown around at each meal... I try to keep my insane "hippie" ways quiet but others very promptly noticed that I am not like them from the food I eat to the music I listen to. I realized very early the need to hide my beliefs and personality, although I realized too late and have been placed in a very small box, a box which actually is fine to be in because I choose to keep my private life separate and not befriend or fraternize with anyone on base.


Although the transition is tough, it is nice to have health insurance and a steady job, a job that only requires 20 years of (torture) commitment before retiring.

I miss my friends. I miss my family. I miss my dogs. I miss EDM. I miss Phish shows. I miss adventure. I miss travel. I miss connecting with people. I miss being myself.

Alas, Galveston, TX is where destiny has taken me. Challenge accepted.

One Love,
D.


Basic Training Graduation: Emancipation from jail

Images from my last days as a civilian at my going away party:


Marching with Yankee 189