(reaches hand to chest and silently rubs chevrons)
Get your ass in the front-leaning rest right now.
This will be my final fucking word on this whole RaceFail clusterfuck.
If there is one thing the military does very well, it’s letting you know you are nothing special. You show up at Basic Training and from Hour Zero they drill it into you: you are nothing special, your civilian experiences are nothing special, your personal pains and hurts are nothing special, and any chips you carry on your shoulder are going to be knocked off, smashed to the ground, and stomped flat.
Nobody gets a pass. Not for gender. Not for race. All are expected to perform to standard and meet the grade. Those who can’t or won’t get over themselves and acclimatize to the mission-first mentality, get their asses smoked via corrective PT, or are washed out because the last thing the military needs are a bunch of Special Cases walking around thinking the entire military needs to make an exception for them because they’re Special.
I’ve never seen an organization strip away a person’s pretensions and posturing as quickly or as efficiently as the military. I’ve also never seen an organization more efficiently strip away the onion layers of race. People stop identifying with their skin color or ethnicity, and start identifying with that uniform on their back and the soldiers they bunk with — regardless of what those soldiers look like or where they’re from. Which is probably why virtually any current or prior servicemember can walk up to and shake the hand of any other current or prior servicemember — anywhere in the nation, regardless of race or gender — and there is a bond.
Which is not to say that the military dissolves a person’s personal experiences into nothingness. I’ve not really seen that happen. What the military does do — so far as I am able to discern — is bust it into your head that no matter what you’ve gone through in life, and no matter how badly life has hurt you, you’re still just the same as the soldier — or sailor, or airman, or marine — next to you. You both eat the same chow, wear the same uniform, shit and piss in the same latrine/head, and salute the same flag.
And when it comes right down to it, you both bleed the same color red. Bullets and IED’s don’t give a fuck if you’re black, white, asian, hispanic, etc. Everyone gets killed dead equally.
This has been the message delivered from top to bottom the entire time I’ve been in the service, which is coming up on ten years here pretty quickly. It has been delivered by my NCO’s, the majority of which have been People of Color and/or female. It has been delivered by the officers appointed over us, again the majority of which have been People of Color and/or female. None of us are ever given a free pass for personal pain. But then again, I’ve not met too many servicemembers who expect to be given a pass for personal pain.
Transcending personal pain — getting over yourself — for the sake of the mission, the group, and the goal, is the hallmark of what it is to be a soldier.
So I hope you’ll forgive me if I’ve run out of patience for people who whine. People who think they are Special. People who think they get a free pass because of their pain. People who expect other people to bend over backwards or tie themselves into a knot. There has been an ass-load of that bullshit throughout the entire stupid saga of RaceFail, going back to the beginning of the year.
I’m not much for whining. I’m not much for people wearing their pain on their sleeves and expecting exceptions. That’s just weak. I don’t care who I offend by saying this, that’s just WEAK. You are WEAK for expecting the universe to cater to you and your personal pain. Be it racial or otherwise. That’s not the universe’s job. The universe has better things to do than stop and wait on your navel-gazing ass. Your mission — should you have the intestinal fortitude to accept it — is to suck it up and drive on.
So I guess I’m just a poor backward dinosaur in the midst of all this “progressive” bullshit about unpacking the knapsack and bingo cards and privelege and having to tie myself into a bow tie every time some geeky PoC or a sycophantist ‘ally’ on the InterToob gets his or her undies in a wad — because myself or someone else has failed to do enough genuflecting before the altar of racial pain.
Here’s my “color blind” theory of race:
We all piss yellow, we all shit brown, we all bleed red. From dust we came, and to dust we shall return. Mother Earth doesn’t give a fuck what we looked like or what our special pain was, when we return to her bosom. God won’t give a fuck what we looked like or what our special pain was either, when we stand before Him at Judgement. You’re either standing tall, or you’re not standing at all. Think God will give you a pass and listen to you whine when you try to make excuses for all the shit you’ve done in your life? What about all the shit you didn’t do because you were too busy staring at your own navel and expecting the rest of the human race to do likewise?
We all piss yellow, we all shit brown, we bleed red. f you can’t dig the fundamental truth of that — if you can’t get over yourself long enough to dig it — I don’t even want to speak to or deal with you any more. You are not worth my time. I have nothing to prove to you, and I don’t think anyone else has anything to prove to you either. You are your own problem to solve, not mine. Failure on your part to recognize that fact is also not my problem.
Recover, RaceFailers. Carry on.