Imposter Syndrome

Recently I was asked by a friend’s mother—who runs a veteran non-profit—why the people from the GWOT (Global War on Terror) generation typically don’t come to her events.  She said the typical veterans that come are from mostly the Vietnam era and a smattering of Gulf War guys mixed in. It got me thinking. Why do we often shy away from events hosted for our benefit? Then it struck me. Maybe others feel the same way I do, like an imposter—or at the very least that they didn’t do enough to call for the limelight.

The specific non-profit she runs aims to pray for veterans, first responders, and their families and offer faith-based events that support those communities. It is a noble effort. I admire her passion for serving and her heart for my community. But I haven’t been to a single event. Apparently, I’m not the only one of my generation saying thanks but no thanks.

I’ve said it before and I stand by the notion that the Vietnam War, Korean War, and remaining World War Two veterans deserve any and every bit of shine the world has to give them. Those men and women are true heroes. Maybe those older generations attend her events because they are often in their late seventies and older. Since they are closer to the finish line than millennials—at least concerning average American lifespans—it seems eternity is closer to the front of their minds. This seemingly relegates them to having more favorable opinions of faith-based events. They grew up in another—often more patriotic—era. This worldview likely makes them gravitate toward events that honor their service.

We’ve all heard of the abysmal way Vietnam veterans were treated when they came home from war. Their father’s generation during World War Two were relegated as heroes, their uncles in the Korean War were forgotten, and they were called baby killers and spat upon. Now that our culture has shifted and begun giving honor to those men and women from that era, it’s easy to see why they’d be more of a target group for events honoring their service. It’s way past due and again, they deserve every minute of praise they receive.

Speaking specifically of the millennials—like myself—who served during the Global War on Terror, dissonance seems to surround our service. We were called heroes just for completing basic training. The post-9/11 world venerated anyone who served in any capacity. Having talked to quite a few of my peers, many of us feel like we just did what we were supposed to do and nothing to call for praise.

I wrestle with my experience in Iraq because on the one hand, I am entirely proud of my service, and I love the men I served with like brothers. On the flip side, the war in Iraq changed nothing in the grand scheme of things and many agree we entered that war under false pretenses. How can you be a hero in a war that some would say is unjust or wrong?

Despite my confusion about our overall purpose in Iraq, I saw some positive impacts on the local people and some failures on our part. These are the thoughts many of us wrestle with about the GWOT. The “thank you for your service” attention we receive around various military holidays can often feel hollow. What service? What did I accomplish by risking my life? Most people were blissfully ignorant that we were still at war after the post-9/11 patriotism wore off—and NOW they’re thankful? Veterans are often dusted off and put on a pedestal each time we’re needed as pawns for someone’s political agenda or to assuage the guilt of those who didn’t serve. It’s a mixed bag of emotions that many of us likely carry.

In so many ways I feel like an imposter, especially around veterans who deployed multiple times to various theatres of war. I went on one deployment and got out. That was enough Army for me after my violent vacation in the sand. So many people did much more than I did. A good many did much less. In the minds of those who didn’t serve, we did something noble and worthy of praise. Yet, all I did was raise my right hand and do what I said I’d do. I’m no hero. I’m just a dude living with lots of dissonance.

We could all use community. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to swallow our pride—or shame or confusion—and allow people to thank us for our service. I love my country, and I’m proud to have served. I still feel the praise and accolades should go to those other dudes. At least for now. Or, perhaps, there isn’t a cap on the thanks available and I should get over myself and accept their appreciation. Maybe the issue is we’ve treated our reluctance to be thanked as if it were a resource in decline and, out of false humility, defer to our elders. Hell, I don’t know, I’m just some guy on the internet who’s really confused about how I feel about a whole lot of things.

Here’s a poem titled “August Rolls Around” from my upcoming book of poetry called A Toad in a Glass Jar being published by Dead Reckoning Collective later this fall.