July

I remember as a small child, I was terrified of fireworks


This wasn't all that hard to explain, they were loud, explosions people set off intentionally to celebrate a holiday or event

I wasn't just scared of the noise, I was scared of the beautiful coloured sparks falling on me and setting my body aflame

No matter what my parents said, my fear couldn't be swayed by the logic of those older than me

It turns out, I just needed time to grow, when I was a slightly older child, I found that I wasn't afraid anymore


The first thing I associate with fireworks is the fourth of July

Now, this was a day every child, at least in the United States, is familiar with
From a tender age, we are taught that this is a sacred and special day, a day of sacrifice and independence, a day to celebrate the great wholesome nation that is the USA

We are taught that the military and those in it are glorious, almost mystical heroes, meant to be idolized as fictional citizens idolize their superheroes


We are taught to be thankful, grateful, and respectful of our troops

It wasn't this sentiment that bothered me, but the complacent and firm, unquestioning nature of the most educated adults to the youngest toddler, the idea that those in the military are as demigods, and are meant to be seen as such, never as human

To be seen as human means that there are failures, struggles, not the brilliant, brave battles you see depicted in Hollywood movies, but ugly, tear jerking fights that don't always take place overseas in a warzone

The fact that we'd rather idolize than reach out and ask for clariication, for the permission to aid in any way we can be of assistance, to never consider the people behind missions and protection, that's what irked me

And the uncomfortable realization that we are not always the "good guys", that there are bad decisions, awful choices that are made, judgements and prejudices that run rampant through ranks regardless of ability


Now I'm not in the military, I've only got a third person point of view

But I've seen how it affects families, children, and I've been a part of those experiences

The children of parents that are in the military are actually very close knit, I can testify that we had our own community and we helped each other

And we have all had our lives altered, some from birth, some later on, by the military


See, the thing about having a parent in the military is, it isn't all travel and heroes and glory

It's going to eleven different schools by the time you reach high school

It's never having any friendships that last longer than a year or two, because you move and no matter how many promises you make to call back and how careul you are to get their contact information, stuff happens

It's being asked where you're from, and not having an answer (South Dakota? Alaska? England? You've stopped keeping track)


It's being twelve years old and being woken up at two o clock in the morning on a school night, and answering the door to find a solemn faced man in uniform asking for your father

It's listening to the man tell your father to be ready and on call, not knowing what has happened

It's turning on the news the next day and seeing fires and explosions and something called "Benghazi" in capital letters

It's having your father leave for months at a time, growing up in his absence and feeling like you're greeting a stranger at the airport, with the strangest mixture of shame and guilt and relief


It's having no money, no house, no friends, because once you retire you're just a human again

It's being poor and not being able to afford doctor's appontments, much less medication, and trivial things like dental care

It's not having any clothes to wear because they're still in storage because after half a year your family still has no home of their own

It's listening to your dad, a veteran, searching for a job, and not finding any that matched his qualifications and skillsets


That's only the things I've experienced, and I'm not even in the military

I see people heralding our troops and soldiers as a monolith, never thinking about their actual lives, what they go through

Never questioning the maliciousness and neglect of our government and the VA, the suicides, the drug abuse, the homelessness

Just endless posts of prayers and praise, when are you going to open your eyes and pay attention? When are you going to get angry? When are you going to do something?


As a teenager nearing adulthood, I absolutely loathe fireworks

I'm not saying that people can't celebrate, but to say how much they love and praise the military while my family of four lives in a two bedroom trailer with our grandather, after my father has served 25 years in the military only to be struggling to find a house for us to live in, this is ridiculous


This fourth of July, I won't be lighting sparklers and watching fireworks with my friends on the beach

I'll be writing this poem on my dad's laptop in our trailer park, trying to figure out if I just heard gunshots or fireworks, making sure my little sister is safe, and trying to figure out how to pay for my college courses

I'll be lying awake in bed until one in the morning, unable to sleep because of those awful coloured explosions

Those terrible explosions, the only intentional explosions that are done to celebrate and make something supposedly lovely out of gunpowder

There is nothing more ironic than fireworks, and I hate them.


I hate them.