I found my missing piece.
Growing up in the 1970’s and 1980’s, I had yet to see a military recruiting poster that said,
We Want You:
1. Son (or daughter) of two liberal northeastern Jewish educators who were active in civil rights causes during the 1960’s
2. A fat, insecure and unathletic teenager
3. Consummate underachiever who excels at quitting
Even with all of the paradigm shifts our society has undergone since my enlistment in 1986, I doubt this a call-to-action featured in any military service’s advertising campaigns. Nonetheless, that’s what the Marine Corps got when I joined their ranks and planted my feet on the yellow footprints at the recruit depot Parris Island, South Carolina. So, how is it that someone like me, who checked off all of those farcical qualifications, finds themselves in what is almost inarguably the world’s finest and toughest miliary service?
Well, being raised with just three house rules, ‘don’t lie’ ‘don’t drink and drive’ and ‘don’t defame the family name’, it should go without saying that structure, much less corrective recourse, were severely lacking. While great for me in the moment as an adolescent since expectations were minimal, it definitely wasn’t going to prepare me for life. At 16 years old, I had the self-realization that I didn’t possess the tools or discipline to be successful, I lacked purpose and my childhood resume of accomplishments was, at best, glaringly blank. Thus began my allure to the military, the Marine Corps and the intelligence field. It seemed like the perfect solution; an institution that would bestow me with an esteemed title which few have achieved, the structure and discipline that would not only give me self-worth but allow me to operate with enough anonymity befitting my debilitating insecurity. The Marine Corps didn’t disappoint, they delivered on all of the expectations I so desperately sought. Perhaps to a fault.
Three decades later, I often wonder why veterans have a particularly difficult time assimilating into life after uniform; its not as though most of us were swaddled in camo, schooled in dress blues or competed in an intramural beach landing league. So what is it that makes our darkest hours so uniquely bleak such that even those who have little exposure to the military can tell you, depending on the data you read, somewhere between 18 and 22 veterans commit suicide every day? Indeed, I’m not amongst those who have taken that final step, but I have walked the path far too often.
Do I believe that these struggles are related to my enlistment in the Marine Corps, is it genetic pre-disposition to depression or simply that I lack the requisite coping skills to endure the trials and tribulations which every human being across the globe regularly faces? Hell if I know. What I do suspect, is that the military gives one an existential purpose, a mostly selfless reason for being and an uncommon sense of achievement that is nearly impossible to realize in any other capacity outside of service. Though my last day in uniform was nearly 30 years ago, the pride of being a Marine, the lessons learned and the resilience gained, propelled me to achieve what I have in civilian life, there has since remained a gaping void that my life lacks any substantial meaning, reminiscent of my teenage years.
Enter Project RELO.
Fortuitously, in late 2017, I was introduced to Project RELO through a fellow Marine veteran; it was in the midst of my marriage disintegrating, my business struggling, my financials abysmal and my overall mental state in absolute ruins. All consumed by work, I lost sight of everything else in my life, my sole purpose was to make sure my business survived- which it has, but, at the demise of everything else. I was completely one-dimensional, rudderless, devoid of confidence and absent of purpose. Over the next 22 months, I grew more familiar with the organization, its leadership and its alumni; the more I learned, the greater my affinity towards their charge. When I was invited to participate on a mission in September 2019, I was ecstatic! The experience was unlike anything I had done or comradery I had ever felt since my days in the Marine Corps. However, the impact went well beyond my personal state-of-mind, it was witnessing the transformation of fellow participants and partaking in something that was having an immediate, discernable, and tangible effect on people’s lives. It was clear to me that Project RELO was the sense of purpose that had never presented itself in my formative years and vigorously eluded me since receiving my discharge. I found my missing piece.
Since that mission, I actively engaged with the organization, eventually assuming a leadership role and lending my efforts to the vast undertaking of Task Force Tribute.
While Project RELO’s mission is not specifically designed to help veterans with emotional or financial struggles, it does provide two essential and valuable returns;
1. Assist transitioning veterans from life in uniform into gainful employment in the private sector as the lack of stability is amongst the leading cases of suicide
2. Provide a cohort of both veterans and civilians committed to leveraging all of their abilities to support their fellow alumni
I am honored to serve with Project RELO and excited to participate in Task Force Tribute to spread the message coast to coast about veteran needs and capture the amazing stories of those who have served
and sacrificed.
