Yes, we're still an Army family, but we're living in the middle of Army-nowhere. The nearest Army post is hours and hours away. I thought I'd like it, but I don't think I do.
Don't get me wrong, it's beautiful here. We loved living in Colorado Springs with the mountains right next to us. Although there aren't any mountains in view, we are living in a house less than two blocks from a small lake. A completely different kind of beautiful. I've never lived lakeside before, and we're looking forward to taking advantage of it. Apparently it will freeze over this winter - I've already seen flyers for an ice putt-putt fundraiser. Fun! And of course we hope to rent a boat at some point.
Also, we're in the lake effect region of the country. You'd think we would have gotten lots of snow in Colorado, but not where we were in the Springs. The average snowfall here is about 150 inches per winter season. Yikes!
So as much as we're enjoying the location, I'm missing the camaraderie. I haven't made any friends yet, there aren't any new-military-family events, and until next month, I haven't had a job. I've very much enjoyed taking some time off, but I'm starting to get stir crazy. I've read literally hundreds of books, taken the (new) dog for many walks, and enjoyed many naps, but I'm raring to get back into the working world. And for those of you who are my Facebook friends, you'll get this complaint again - I really miss the commissary! We've been so spoiled being able to buy groceries at super low prices. The sticker shock hits me every time I go to the store here.
We're not completely alone; Darrell isn't working by himself, after all. There's just no comparison between brigades worth of Soldiers and their families and a small office with less than a dozen coworkers. It's different, and it's reminded me of how much I really do like living in an Army community.
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Dinner!
Easy Pulled Pork Sandwiches
I made this for dinner last night and finished off the leftovers for lunch. Super easy, and kid approved.
I made this for dinner last night and finished off the leftovers for lunch. Super easy, and kid approved.
Monday, November 21, 2011
A year and a half?
I knew it'd been awhile since I posted here, but had no idea it had been that long.
As a blogger, I suck.
Anyway, update time. We now live in Pennsylvania. The nearest Army post is hours and hours away. I thought I'd love living like a civilian again, but actually I miss the whole Army lifestyle thing. The commissary especially, but also the camaraderie.
We've adopted a dog, Riley. He has some isolation anxiety issues to deal with, but is otherwise a great fit into the family. At some point in the semi-near future, we'll probably adopt another rescue boxer to keep him company. The cat is not pleased, but she'll just have to deal.
The boys are doing well in school. J has made some friends in the neighborhood and is playing the trombone again. K is loving kindergarten but is having problems sitting still. We're hoping a wiggle seat will help (basically a nubby plastic cushion to sit on).
I recently accepted a job offer and will be starting in early December. It's a federal position (yay!) but for now is intermittent. They hire their full time staff from their intermittent pool, so I'm hopeful for permanent full time work in 2012.
D is relaxing as much as possible in his instructor position. It's nice not having a deployment looming on the calendar, but this job isn't as laid back as we thought it'd be. Still, he's home for dinners and weekends most of the time. We'll take it!
The promotion board results will be out in January/February. If D makes the list, there's a good chance we'll be moving this coming summer. If not, we'll be here at least another year.
That's what we're up to at the moment. Hopefully it doesn't take me so long to update again...
As a blogger, I suck.
Anyway, update time. We now live in Pennsylvania. The nearest Army post is hours and hours away. I thought I'd love living like a civilian again, but actually I miss the whole Army lifestyle thing. The commissary especially, but also the camaraderie.
We've adopted a dog, Riley. He has some isolation anxiety issues to deal with, but is otherwise a great fit into the family. At some point in the semi-near future, we'll probably adopt another rescue boxer to keep him company. The cat is not pleased, but she'll just have to deal.
The boys are doing well in school. J has made some friends in the neighborhood and is playing the trombone again. K is loving kindergarten but is having problems sitting still. We're hoping a wiggle seat will help (basically a nubby plastic cushion to sit on).
I recently accepted a job offer and will be starting in early December. It's a federal position (yay!) but for now is intermittent. They hire their full time staff from their intermittent pool, so I'm hopeful for permanent full time work in 2012.
D is relaxing as much as possible in his instructor position. It's nice not having a deployment looming on the calendar, but this job isn't as laid back as we thought it'd be. Still, he's home for dinners and weekends most of the time. We'll take it!
The promotion board results will be out in January/February. If D makes the list, there's a good chance we'll be moving this coming summer. If not, we'll be here at least another year.
That's what we're up to at the moment. Hopefully it doesn't take me so long to update again...
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Student Loan Debt
Take a minute and check this site out.
I have a 50-50 type of story. I first went to college right after high school. I was accepted into a very strong engineering school; it was very expensive, but I had a great plan. I won a fabulous Navy ROTC scholarship, but it had conditions. If I met those conditions after my freshman year, the Navy would pay for the next three years. I would earn an officer's commission and spend some time in the Navy making decent officer's pay. My parents agreed to pay for my freshman year, as long as I met the conditions of the scholarship. If I didn't, I'd be required to pay them back.
Well, I ended up getting a D in my freshman calculus class. I needed a C for the scholarship. I'd like to say I tried as hard as I could, but I think it was more a situation that I never had to try to earn good grades in high school and didn't really know how. In any case, calculus at Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute kicked my behind, and I lost a $60,000-plus scholarship.
I convinced my parents that I needed to do another year at RPI. They said they'd front the money, but that now I owed them for two years tuition. Ridiculously, I agreed. I had fabulous friends there and was having the time of my life. Stupidly, I spent more time having fun than going to class. My RPI friends probably don't know this, but I was academically dismissed after my sophomore year. Not showing up to finals certainly didn't help...
I stuck around for a third year, having all the fun of a college student (and conducting the pep band - the most fun year of my life, pre-marriage) but not going to class. My parents had already paid off the loans by refinancing their home, so I didn't have student loan payments hanging over my head. Thank goodness, because while it was an awesome year, it was also the poorest I've ever been. All in all, I now owed my parents almost $50,000 for less than 40 transferable credits.
Fast forward a few years. I'm married and newly out of the Army (and qualified for the GI Bill). My husband is stationed at Fort Riley, Kansas, and I decide to go back to school. Kansas State University is a reasonably cheap opportunity that I can't pass up. Because my husband is active duty, I'm allowed to register as a Kansas resident. I also spend a lot of time applying for scholarships. Between the two, the GI Bill, and a teaching assistant gig the geology department offers, I finish my bachelors degree with less than $10,000 in student loans. I paid the interest fees for the unsubsidized loans as I went, but happily allowed the government to pay the interest for the subsidized loans.
Fast forward a few more years. After two years at Fort Jackson, we find ourselves back at Fort Riley. K-State's geology program welcomed me back with open arms, a GTA position, and more scholarships. I actually made money earning my masters degree.
So, let's compare:
A) Two years of an essentially worthless private school education (although the chemistry credits allowed me to not have to take chem I and II for my geology bachelors) = $50,000
B) Six years of public school education = <$10,000 (although if you factor in the paycheck I earned as a TA/GTA, it's probably closer to zero)
It's with this experience/history that I read the above posted article. I commiserated with the students that chose a prestigious private school that specializes in their major. I mentally high-fived the students that smartly chose to ignore the hype and earned degrees at public universities. But I mostly strongly nodded my head at the man who has zero student loans, instead spending some time in the military. Yes, he did two deployments to Iraq, but he earned his GI Bill benefits and learned more about life around the world than any degree program could possibly teach.
I was young, dumb, and stupid in every way when I first graduated from high school. I chose a major because of a suggestion from my high school guidance counselor - I didn't know enough about myself to really have any idea what I wanted to be 'when I grew up' and thought that the more prestigious and glamorous university had to be a better choice. Now that my step-kids are making the same decisions, my husband and I are using our own experiences to help the kids make smarter choices than we did. My step-daughter has chosen to start at a community college; she also took so many AP classes in high school that she began as a sophomore. My step-son will be graduating from high school a semester early and has decided to work through the spring and summer to earn more money before starting college 'on time' in the fall. He hasn't yet decided where he'll apply and what he'll major in, but he's leaning in the right directions - away from uber-expensive private schools.
I still owe my mom for my two years at RPI. While I'm now halfway kicking myself for that situation, I don't regret the three years I spent there. I made some wonderful friends at RPI and had the time of my life. However, the realist in me recognizes that I would also have made fabulous friends during those same three years if I'd been living at home and working at McDonalds. Still, it is what it is. I've chosen to learn from the experience instead of beating myself up over it, and I hope my kids will be able to use those experiences to make better decisions for their futures.
I have a 50-50 type of story. I first went to college right after high school. I was accepted into a very strong engineering school; it was very expensive, but I had a great plan. I won a fabulous Navy ROTC scholarship, but it had conditions. If I met those conditions after my freshman year, the Navy would pay for the next three years. I would earn an officer's commission and spend some time in the Navy making decent officer's pay. My parents agreed to pay for my freshman year, as long as I met the conditions of the scholarship. If I didn't, I'd be required to pay them back.
Well, I ended up getting a D in my freshman calculus class. I needed a C for the scholarship. I'd like to say I tried as hard as I could, but I think it was more a situation that I never had to try to earn good grades in high school and didn't really know how. In any case, calculus at Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute kicked my behind, and I lost a $60,000-plus scholarship.
I convinced my parents that I needed to do another year at RPI. They said they'd front the money, but that now I owed them for two years tuition. Ridiculously, I agreed. I had fabulous friends there and was having the time of my life. Stupidly, I spent more time having fun than going to class. My RPI friends probably don't know this, but I was academically dismissed after my sophomore year. Not showing up to finals certainly didn't help...
I stuck around for a third year, having all the fun of a college student (and conducting the pep band - the most fun year of my life, pre-marriage) but not going to class. My parents had already paid off the loans by refinancing their home, so I didn't have student loan payments hanging over my head. Thank goodness, because while it was an awesome year, it was also the poorest I've ever been. All in all, I now owed my parents almost $50,000 for less than 40 transferable credits.
Fast forward a few years. I'm married and newly out of the Army (and qualified for the GI Bill). My husband is stationed at Fort Riley, Kansas, and I decide to go back to school. Kansas State University is a reasonably cheap opportunity that I can't pass up. Because my husband is active duty, I'm allowed to register as a Kansas resident. I also spend a lot of time applying for scholarships. Between the two, the GI Bill, and a teaching assistant gig the geology department offers, I finish my bachelors degree with less than $10,000 in student loans. I paid the interest fees for the unsubsidized loans as I went, but happily allowed the government to pay the interest for the subsidized loans.
Fast forward a few more years. After two years at Fort Jackson, we find ourselves back at Fort Riley. K-State's geology program welcomed me back with open arms, a GTA position, and more scholarships. I actually made money earning my masters degree.
So, let's compare:
A) Two years of an essentially worthless private school education (although the chemistry credits allowed me to not have to take chem I and II for my geology bachelors) = $50,000
B) Six years of public school education = <$10,000 (although if you factor in the paycheck I earned as a TA/GTA, it's probably closer to zero)
It's with this experience/history that I read the above posted article. I commiserated with the students that chose a prestigious private school that specializes in their major. I mentally high-fived the students that smartly chose to ignore the hype and earned degrees at public universities. But I mostly strongly nodded my head at the man who has zero student loans, instead spending some time in the military. Yes, he did two deployments to Iraq, but he earned his GI Bill benefits and learned more about life around the world than any degree program could possibly teach.
I was young, dumb, and stupid in every way when I first graduated from high school. I chose a major because of a suggestion from my high school guidance counselor - I didn't know enough about myself to really have any idea what I wanted to be 'when I grew up' and thought that the more prestigious and glamorous university had to be a better choice. Now that my step-kids are making the same decisions, my husband and I are using our own experiences to help the kids make smarter choices than we did. My step-daughter has chosen to start at a community college; she also took so many AP classes in high school that she began as a sophomore. My step-son will be graduating from high school a semester early and has decided to work through the spring and summer to earn more money before starting college 'on time' in the fall. He hasn't yet decided where he'll apply and what he'll major in, but he's leaning in the right directions - away from uber-expensive private schools.
I still owe my mom for my two years at RPI. While I'm now halfway kicking myself for that situation, I don't regret the three years I spent there. I made some wonderful friends at RPI and had the time of my life. However, the realist in me recognizes that I would also have made fabulous friends during those same three years if I'd been living at home and working at McDonalds. Still, it is what it is. I've chosen to learn from the experience instead of beating myself up over it, and I hope my kids will be able to use those experiences to make better decisions for their futures.
Tuesday, March 09, 2010
3rd Brigade, 4th Infantry Division deploys to Iraq
The Iron Brigade recently took a closer step toward its upcoming deployment to Iraq by ceremoniously saying goodbye.
The 3rd Brigade Combat Team, 4th Infantry Division held its casing ceremony on March 3, at Manhart Field so that the Iron Brigade could bid farewell to the leaders, Soldiers, and Families of Fort Carson and Colorado Springs prior to deploying in support of Operation Iraqi Freedom.
Mayor Lionel Rivera of Colorado Springs, other city government officials, Fort Carson leaders, and Families attended to witness the casing of the brigade colors by Col. James E. Rainey, commander, 3rd BCT, and Command Sgt. Maj. Miles S. Wilson, brigade command sergeant major, 3rd BCT.
The casing ceremony signified that 3rd BCT has completed all training and preparation, leaving nothing left to accomplish but the mission, said Staff Sgt. Michael Bellamy, assistant brigade aviation and operations noncommissioned officer, Headquarters and Headquarters Troop, 3rd Special Troops Battalion, 3rd BCT.
“This means that we are ready to roll out,” said Bellamy, who participated in the ceremony as part of the color guard.
Due to the symbolic casing of the colors, the ceremony was an emotional experience that brought a realization that the brigade is leaving very soon, said Lori DiGiambattista, wife of Lt. Col. John DiGiambattista , commander, 1st Battalion, 8th Infantry Regiment, 3rd BCT.
The 3rd BCT has been conducting its comprehensive training program for 13 months in preparation for its upcoming mission to southern Iraq. The brigade will serve as an advisory brigade for Iraqi Security Forces who are taking the lead in ensuring the future stability and safety of the Iraqi people.
“The United States Army has never deployed a better trained or better led brigade to Iraq,” said Maj. Gen. David G. Perkins, commanding general, 4th Inf. Div.
According to Perkins, the Iron Brigade will have a significant impact on Iraq’s future.
“The final fingerprint that the 3rd Brigade Combat Team puts on Iraq will be indelible and may well last for decades to come,” said Perkins.
The brigade has prepared for the upcoming deployment through major training events, such as Operation Iron Strike and a month-long rotation at the National Training Center, in order to be standing firm and ready for any adversity that it may face while in Iraq, said Rainey, during his ceremony speech.
With the united support of Fort Carson, the Colorado Springs community, and Soldiers’ Families, the Iron Brigade will leave for Iraq with a strong foundation.
“As we case our colors today for the brigade's fourth deployment to Iraq, we all want you to know one thing,” said Rainey. “The men and women you see standing before you and the 4,000 Soldiers of the Iron Brigade that they represent are banded, equipped, and trained to accomplish our mission.”
As posted on Facebook. Photos included at the link.
I work for a battalion in 3rd brigade. Guess it's about to get pretty quiet...
The 3rd Brigade Combat Team, 4th Infantry Division held its casing ceremony on March 3, at Manhart Field so that the Iron Brigade could bid farewell to the leaders, Soldiers, and Families of Fort Carson and Colorado Springs prior to deploying in support of Operation Iraqi Freedom.
Mayor Lionel Rivera of Colorado Springs, other city government officials, Fort Carson leaders, and Families attended to witness the casing of the brigade colors by Col. James E. Rainey, commander, 3rd BCT, and Command Sgt. Maj. Miles S. Wilson, brigade command sergeant major, 3rd BCT.
The casing ceremony signified that 3rd BCT has completed all training and preparation, leaving nothing left to accomplish but the mission, said Staff Sgt. Michael Bellamy, assistant brigade aviation and operations noncommissioned officer, Headquarters and Headquarters Troop, 3rd Special Troops Battalion, 3rd BCT.
“This means that we are ready to roll out,” said Bellamy, who participated in the ceremony as part of the color guard.
Due to the symbolic casing of the colors, the ceremony was an emotional experience that brought a realization that the brigade is leaving very soon, said Lori DiGiambattista, wife of Lt. Col. John DiGiambattista , commander, 1st Battalion, 8th Infantry Regiment, 3rd BCT.
The 3rd BCT has been conducting its comprehensive training program for 13 months in preparation for its upcoming mission to southern Iraq. The brigade will serve as an advisory brigade for Iraqi Security Forces who are taking the lead in ensuring the future stability and safety of the Iraqi people.
“The United States Army has never deployed a better trained or better led brigade to Iraq,” said Maj. Gen. David G. Perkins, commanding general, 4th Inf. Div.
According to Perkins, the Iron Brigade will have a significant impact on Iraq’s future.
“The final fingerprint that the 3rd Brigade Combat Team puts on Iraq will be indelible and may well last for decades to come,” said Perkins.
The brigade has prepared for the upcoming deployment through major training events, such as Operation Iron Strike and a month-long rotation at the National Training Center, in order to be standing firm and ready for any adversity that it may face while in Iraq, said Rainey, during his ceremony speech.
With the united support of Fort Carson, the Colorado Springs community, and Soldiers’ Families, the Iron Brigade will leave for Iraq with a strong foundation.
“As we case our colors today for the brigade's fourth deployment to Iraq, we all want you to know one thing,” said Rainey. “The men and women you see standing before you and the 4,000 Soldiers of the Iron Brigade that they represent are banded, equipped, and trained to accomplish our mission.”
As posted on Facebook. Photos included at the link.
I work for a battalion in 3rd brigade. Guess it's about to get pretty quiet...
Water consumption in Edmonton during the gold medal hockey game
I haven't enjoyed a blog post as much as I enjoyed this one in a LONG time. Thanks, Jim.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
On Sheep, Wolves and Sheepdogs
From the book On Combat by Lt. Col. Dave Grossman
"Honor never grows old, and honor rejoices the heart of age. It does so because honor is, finally, about defending those noble and worthy things that deserve defending, even if it comes at a high cost. In our time, that may mean social disapproval, public scorn, hardship, persecution, or as always, even death itself.
The question remains: What is worth defending? What is worth dying for? What is worth living for?"
- William J. Bennett
In a lecture to the United States Naval Academy
November 24, 1997
One Vietnam veteran, an old retired colonel, once said this to me: “Most of the people in our society are sheep. They are kind, gentle, productive creatures who can only hurt one another by accident.” This is true. Remember, the murder rate is six per 100,000 per year, and the aggravated assault rate is four per 1,000 per year. What this means is that the vast majority of Americans are not inclined to hurt one another.
Some estimates say that two million Americans are victims of violent crimes every year, a tragic, staggering number, perhaps an all-time record rate of violent crime. But there are almost 300 million Americans, which means that the odds of being a victim of violent crime is considerably less than one in a hundred on any given year. Furthermore, since many violent crimes are committed by repeat offenders, the actual number of violent citizens is considerably less than two million.
Thus there is a paradox, and we must grasp both ends of the situation: We may well be in the most violent times in history, but violence is still remarkably rare. This is because most citizens are kind, decent people who are not capable of hurting each other, except by accident or under extreme provocation. They are sheep.
I mean nothing negative by calling them sheep. To me it is like the pretty, blue robin’s egg. Inside it is soft and gooey but someday it will grow into something wonderful. But the egg cannot survive without its hard blue shell. Police officers, soldiers and other warriors are like that shell, and someday the civilization they protect will grow into something wonderful. For now, though, they need warriors to protect them from the predators.
“Then there are the wolves,” the old war veteran said, “and the wolves feed on the sheep without mercy.” Do you believe there are wolves out there who will feed on the flock without mercy? You better believe it. There are evil men in this world and they are capable of evil deeds. The moment you forget that or pretend it is not so, you become a sheep. There is no safety in denial.
“Then there are sheepdogs,” he went on, “and I’m a sheepdog. I live to protect the flock and confront the wolf.” Or, as a sign in one California law enforcement agency put it, “We intimidate those who intimidate others.”
If you have no capacity for violence then you are a healthy productive citizen: a sheep. If you have a capacity for violence and no empathy for your fellow citizens, then you have defined an aggressive sociopath--a wolf. But what if you have a capacity for violence, and a deep love for your fellow citizens? Then you are a sheepdog, a warrior, someone who is walking the hero’s path. Someone who can walk into the heart of darkness, into the universal human phobia, and walk out unscathed.
The gift of aggression
"What goes on around you... compares little with what goes on inside you."
- Ralph Waldo Emerson
Everyone has been given a gift in life. Some people have a gift for science and some have a flair for art. And warriors have been given the gift of aggression. They would no more misuse this gift than a doctor would misuse his healing arts, but they yearn for the opportunity to use their gift to help others. These people, the ones who have been blessed with the gift of aggression and a love for others, are our sheepdogs. These are our warriors.
One career police officer wrote to me about this after attending one of my Bulletproof Mind training sessions:
"I want to say thank you for finally shedding some light on why it is that I can do what I do. I always knew why I did it. I love my [citizens], even the bad ones, and had a talent that I could return to my community. I just couldn’t put my finger on why I could wade through the chaos, the gore, the sadness, if given a chance try to make it all better, and walk right out the other side."
Let me expand on this old soldier’s excellent model of the sheep, wolves, and sheepdogs. We know that the sheep live in denial; that is what makes them sheep. They do not want to believe that there is evil in the world. They can accept the fact that fires can happen, which is why they want fire extinguishers, fire sprinklers, fire alarms and fire exits throughout their kids’ schools. But many of them are outraged at the idea of putting an armed police officer in their kid’s school. Our children are dozens of times more likely to be killed, and thousands of times more likely to be seriously injured, by school violence than by school fires, but the sheep’s only response to the possibility of violence is denial. The idea of someone coming to kill or harm their children is just too hard, so they choose the path of denial.
The sheep generally do not like the sheepdog. He looks a lot like the wolf. He has fangs and the capacity for violence. The difference, though, is that the sheepdog must not, cannot and will not ever harm the sheep. Any sheepdog who intentionally harms the lowliest little lamb will be punished and removed. The world cannot work any other way, at least not in a representative democracy or a republic such as ours.
Still, the sheepdog disturbs the sheep. He is a constant reminder that there are wolves in the land. They would prefer that he didn’t tell them where to go, or give them traffic tickets, or stand at the ready in our airports in camouflage fatigues holding an M-16. The sheep would much rather have the sheepdog cash in his fangs, spray paint himself white, and go, “Baa.”
Until the wolf shows up. Then the entire flock tries desperately to hide behind one lonely sheepdog. As Kipling said in his poem about “Tommy” the British soldier:
While it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, fall be'ind,"
But it's "Please to walk in front, sir," when there's trouble in the wind,
There's trouble in the wind, my boys, there's trouble in the wind,
O it's "Please to walk in front, sir," when there's trouble in the wind.
The students, the victims, at Columbine High School were big, tough high school students, and under ordinary circumstances they would not have had the time of day for a police officer. They were not bad kids; they just had nothing to say to a cop. When the school was under attack, however, and SWAT teams were clearing the rooms and hallways, the officers had to physically peel those clinging, sobbing kids off of them. This is how the little lambs feel about their sheepdog when the wolf is at the door. Look at what happened after September 11, 2001, when the wolf pounded hard on the door. Remember how America, more than ever before, felt differently about their law enforcement officers and military personnel? Remember how many times you heard the word hero?
Understand that there is nothing morally superior about being a sheepdog; it is just what you choose to be. Also understand that a sheepdog is a funny critter: He is always sniffing around out on the perimeter, checking the breeze, barking at things that go bump in the night, and yearning for a righteous battle. That is, the young sheepdogs yearn for a righteous battle. The old sheepdogs are a little older and wiser, but they move to the sound of the guns when needed right along with the young ones.
Here is how the sheep and the sheepdog think differently. The sheep pretend the wolf will never come, but the sheepdog lives for that day. After the attacks on September 11, 2001, most of the sheep, that is, most citizens in America said, “Thank God I wasn’t on one of those planes.” The sheepdogs, the warriors, said, “Dear God, I wish I could have been on one of those planes. Maybe I could have made a difference.” When you are truly transformed into a warrior and have truly invested yourself into warriorhood, you want to be there. You want to be able to make a difference.
While there is nothing morally superior about the sheepdog, the warrior, he does have one real advantage. Only one. He is able to survive and thrive in an environment that destroys 98 percent of the population.
There was research conducted a few years ago with individuals convicted of violent crimes. These cons were in prison for serious, predatory acts of violence: assaults, murders and killing law enforcement officers. The vast majority said that they specifically targeted victims by body language: slumped walk, passive behavior and lack of awareness. They chose their victims like big cats do in Africa, when they select one out of the herd that is least able to protect itself.
However, when there were cues given by potential victims that indicated they would not go easily, the cons said that they would walk away. If the cons sensed that the target was a "counter-predator," that is, a sheepdog, they would leave him alone unless there was no other choice but to engage.
One police officer told me that he rode a commuter train to work each day. One day, as was his usual, he was standing in the crowded car, dressed in blue jeans, T-shirt and jacket, holding onto a pole and reading a paperback. At one of the stops, two street toughs boarded, shouting and cursing and doing every obnoxious thing possible to intimidate the other riders. The officer continued to read his book, though he kept a watchful eye on the two punks as they strolled along the aisle making comments to female passengers, and banging shoulders with men as they passed.
As they approached the officer, he lowered his novel and made eye contact with them. “You got a problem, man?” one of the IQ-challenged punks asked. “You think you’re tough, or somethin’?” the other asked, obviously offended that this one was not shirking away from them.
“As a matter of fact, I am tough,” the officer said, calmly and with a steady gaze.
The two looked at him for a long moment, and then without saying a word, turned and moved back down the aisle to continue their taunting of the other passengers, the sheep.
Some people may be destined to be sheep and others might be genetically primed to be wolves or sheepdogs. But I believe that most people can choose which one they want to be, and I’m proud to say that more and more Americans are choosing to become sheepdogs.
Seven months after the attack on September 11, 2001, Todd Beamer was honored in his hometown of Cranbury, New Jersey. Todd, as you recall, was the man on Flight 93 over Pennsylvania who called on his cell phone to alert an operator from United Airlines about the hijacking. When he learned of the other three passenger planes that had been used as weapons, Todd dropped his phone and uttered the words, “Let’s roll,” which authorities believe was a signal to the other passengers to confront the terrorist hijackers. In one hour, a transformation occurred among the passengers--athletes, business people and parents--from sheep to sheepdogs and together they fought the wolves, ultimately saving an unknown number of lives on the ground.
“Do you have any idea how hard it would be to live with yourself after that?”
"here is no safety for honest men except by believing all possible evil of evil men."
- Edmund Burke
Reflections on the Revolution in France
Here is the point I like to emphasize, especially to the thousands of police officers and soldiers I speak to each year. In nature the sheep, real sheep, are born as sheep. Sheepdogs are born that way, and so are wolves. They didn’t have a choice. But you are not a critter. As a human being, you can be whatever you want to be. It is a conscious, moral decision.
If you want to be a sheep, then you can be a sheep and that is okay, but you must understand the price you pay. When the wolf comes, you and your loved ones are going to die if there is not a sheepdog there to protect you. If you want to be a wolf, you can be one, but the sheepdogs are going to hunt you down and you will never have rest, safety, trust or love. But if you want to be a sheepdog and walk the warrior’s path, then you must make a conscious and moral decision every day to dedicate, equip and prepare yourself to thrive in that toxic, corrosive moment when the wolf comes knocking at the door.
For example, many officers carry their weapons in church. They are well concealed in ankle holsters, shoulder holsters or inside-the-belt holsters tucked into the small of their backs. Anytime you go to some form of religious service, there is a very good chance that a police officer in your congregation is carrying. You will never know if there is such an individual in your place of worship, until the wolf appears to slaughter you and your loved ones.
I was training a group of police officers in Texas, and during the break, one officer asked his friend if he carried his weapon in church. The other cop replied, “I will never be caught without my gun in church.” I asked why he felt so strongly about this, and he told me about a police officer he knew who was at a church massacre in Ft. Worth, Texas, in 1999. In that incident, a mentally deranged individual came into the church and opened fire, gunning down 14 people. He said that officer believed he could have saved every life that day if he had been carrying his gun. His own son was shot, and all he could do was throw himself on the boy’s body and wait to die. That cop looked me in the eye and said, “Do you have any idea how hard it would be to live with yourself after that?”
Some individuals would be horrified if they knew this police officer was carrying a weapon in church. They might call him paranoid and would probably scorn him. Yet these same individuals would be enraged and would call for “heads to roll” if they found out that the airbags in their cars were defective, or that the fire extinguisher and fire sprinklers in their kids’ school did not work. They can accept the fact that fires and traffic accidents can happen and that there must be safeguards against them. Their only response to the wolf, though, is denial, and all too often their response to the sheepdog is scorn and disdain. But the sheepdog quietly asks himself, “Do you have any idea how hard it would be to live with yourself if your loved ones were attacked and killed, and you had to stand there helplessly because you were unprepared for that day?”
The warrior must cleanse denial from his thinking. Coach Bob Lindsey, a renowned law enforcement trainer, says that warriors must practice “when/then” thinking, not “if/when.” Instead of saying,“If it happens then I will take action,” the warrior says, “When it happens then I will be ready.”
It is denial that turns people into sheep. Sheep are psychologically destroyed by combat because their only defense is denial, which is counterproductive and destructive, resulting in fear, helplessness and horror when the wolf shows up.
Denial kills you twice. It kills you once, at your moment of truth when you are not physically prepared: You didn’t bring your gun; you didn’t train. Your only defense was wishful thinking. Hope is not a strategy. Denial kills you a second time because even if you do physically survive, you are psychologically shattered by fear, helplessness, horror and shame at your moment of truth.
Chuck Yeager, the famous test pilot and first man to fly faster than the speed of sound, says that he knew he could die. There was no denial for him. He did not allow himself the luxury of denial. This acceptance of reality can cause fear, but it is a healthy, controlled fear that will keep you alive:
"I was always afraid of dying. Always. It was my fear that made me learn everything I could about my airplane and my emergency equipment, and kept me flying respectful of my machine and always alert in the cockpit."
- Brigadier General Chuck Yeager
Yeager, An Autobiography
Gavin de Becker puts it like this in Fear Less, his superb post-9/11 book, which should be required reading for anyone trying to come to terms with our current world situation:
"..denial can be seductive, but it has an insidious side effect. For all the peace of mind deniers think they get by saying it isn’t so, the fall they take when faced with new violence is all the more unsettling. Denial is a save-now-pay-later scheme, a contract written entirely in small print, for in the long run, the denying person knows the truth on some level."
And so the warrior must strive to confront denial in all aspects of his life, and prepare himself for the day when evil comes.
If you are a warrior who is legally authorized to carry a weapon and you step outside without that weapon, then you become a sheep, pretending that the bad man will not come today. No one can be “on” 24/7 for a lifetime. Everyone needs down time. But if you are authorized to carry a weapon, and you walk outside without it, just take a deep breath, and say this to yourself... “Baa.”
This business of being a sheep or a sheepdog is not a yes-no dichotomy. It is not an all-or-nothing, either-or choice. It is a matter of degrees, a continuum. On one end is an abject, head-in-the-grass sheep and on the other end is the ultimate warrior. Few people exist completely on one end or the other. Most of us live somewhere in between. Since 9-11 almost everyone in America took a step up that continuum, away from denial. The sheep took a few steps toward accepting and appreciating their warriors, and the warriors started taking their job more seriously. The degree to which you move up that continuum, away from sheephood and denial, is the degree to which you and your loved ones will survive, physically and psychologically at your moment of truth.
"Honor never grows old, and honor rejoices the heart of age. It does so because honor is, finally, about defending those noble and worthy things that deserve defending, even if it comes at a high cost. In our time, that may mean social disapproval, public scorn, hardship, persecution, or as always, even death itself.
The question remains: What is worth defending? What is worth dying for? What is worth living for?"
- William J. Bennett
In a lecture to the United States Naval Academy
November 24, 1997
One Vietnam veteran, an old retired colonel, once said this to me: “Most of the people in our society are sheep. They are kind, gentle, productive creatures who can only hurt one another by accident.” This is true. Remember, the murder rate is six per 100,000 per year, and the aggravated assault rate is four per 1,000 per year. What this means is that the vast majority of Americans are not inclined to hurt one another.
Some estimates say that two million Americans are victims of violent crimes every year, a tragic, staggering number, perhaps an all-time record rate of violent crime. But there are almost 300 million Americans, which means that the odds of being a victim of violent crime is considerably less than one in a hundred on any given year. Furthermore, since many violent crimes are committed by repeat offenders, the actual number of violent citizens is considerably less than two million.
Thus there is a paradox, and we must grasp both ends of the situation: We may well be in the most violent times in history, but violence is still remarkably rare. This is because most citizens are kind, decent people who are not capable of hurting each other, except by accident or under extreme provocation. They are sheep.
I mean nothing negative by calling them sheep. To me it is like the pretty, blue robin’s egg. Inside it is soft and gooey but someday it will grow into something wonderful. But the egg cannot survive without its hard blue shell. Police officers, soldiers and other warriors are like that shell, and someday the civilization they protect will grow into something wonderful. For now, though, they need warriors to protect them from the predators.
“Then there are the wolves,” the old war veteran said, “and the wolves feed on the sheep without mercy.” Do you believe there are wolves out there who will feed on the flock without mercy? You better believe it. There are evil men in this world and they are capable of evil deeds. The moment you forget that or pretend it is not so, you become a sheep. There is no safety in denial.
“Then there are sheepdogs,” he went on, “and I’m a sheepdog. I live to protect the flock and confront the wolf.” Or, as a sign in one California law enforcement agency put it, “We intimidate those who intimidate others.”
If you have no capacity for violence then you are a healthy productive citizen: a sheep. If you have a capacity for violence and no empathy for your fellow citizens, then you have defined an aggressive sociopath--a wolf. But what if you have a capacity for violence, and a deep love for your fellow citizens? Then you are a sheepdog, a warrior, someone who is walking the hero’s path. Someone who can walk into the heart of darkness, into the universal human phobia, and walk out unscathed.
The gift of aggression
"What goes on around you... compares little with what goes on inside you."
- Ralph Waldo Emerson
Everyone has been given a gift in life. Some people have a gift for science and some have a flair for art. And warriors have been given the gift of aggression. They would no more misuse this gift than a doctor would misuse his healing arts, but they yearn for the opportunity to use their gift to help others. These people, the ones who have been blessed with the gift of aggression and a love for others, are our sheepdogs. These are our warriors.
One career police officer wrote to me about this after attending one of my Bulletproof Mind training sessions:
"I want to say thank you for finally shedding some light on why it is that I can do what I do. I always knew why I did it. I love my [citizens], even the bad ones, and had a talent that I could return to my community. I just couldn’t put my finger on why I could wade through the chaos, the gore, the sadness, if given a chance try to make it all better, and walk right out the other side."
Let me expand on this old soldier’s excellent model of the sheep, wolves, and sheepdogs. We know that the sheep live in denial; that is what makes them sheep. They do not want to believe that there is evil in the world. They can accept the fact that fires can happen, which is why they want fire extinguishers, fire sprinklers, fire alarms and fire exits throughout their kids’ schools. But many of them are outraged at the idea of putting an armed police officer in their kid’s school. Our children are dozens of times more likely to be killed, and thousands of times more likely to be seriously injured, by school violence than by school fires, but the sheep’s only response to the possibility of violence is denial. The idea of someone coming to kill or harm their children is just too hard, so they choose the path of denial.
The sheep generally do not like the sheepdog. He looks a lot like the wolf. He has fangs and the capacity for violence. The difference, though, is that the sheepdog must not, cannot and will not ever harm the sheep. Any sheepdog who intentionally harms the lowliest little lamb will be punished and removed. The world cannot work any other way, at least not in a representative democracy or a republic such as ours.
Still, the sheepdog disturbs the sheep. He is a constant reminder that there are wolves in the land. They would prefer that he didn’t tell them where to go, or give them traffic tickets, or stand at the ready in our airports in camouflage fatigues holding an M-16. The sheep would much rather have the sheepdog cash in his fangs, spray paint himself white, and go, “Baa.”
Until the wolf shows up. Then the entire flock tries desperately to hide behind one lonely sheepdog. As Kipling said in his poem about “Tommy” the British soldier:
While it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, fall be'ind,"
But it's "Please to walk in front, sir," when there's trouble in the wind,
There's trouble in the wind, my boys, there's trouble in the wind,
O it's "Please to walk in front, sir," when there's trouble in the wind.
The students, the victims, at Columbine High School were big, tough high school students, and under ordinary circumstances they would not have had the time of day for a police officer. They were not bad kids; they just had nothing to say to a cop. When the school was under attack, however, and SWAT teams were clearing the rooms and hallways, the officers had to physically peel those clinging, sobbing kids off of them. This is how the little lambs feel about their sheepdog when the wolf is at the door. Look at what happened after September 11, 2001, when the wolf pounded hard on the door. Remember how America, more than ever before, felt differently about their law enforcement officers and military personnel? Remember how many times you heard the word hero?
Understand that there is nothing morally superior about being a sheepdog; it is just what you choose to be. Also understand that a sheepdog is a funny critter: He is always sniffing around out on the perimeter, checking the breeze, barking at things that go bump in the night, and yearning for a righteous battle. That is, the young sheepdogs yearn for a righteous battle. The old sheepdogs are a little older and wiser, but they move to the sound of the guns when needed right along with the young ones.
Here is how the sheep and the sheepdog think differently. The sheep pretend the wolf will never come, but the sheepdog lives for that day. After the attacks on September 11, 2001, most of the sheep, that is, most citizens in America said, “Thank God I wasn’t on one of those planes.” The sheepdogs, the warriors, said, “Dear God, I wish I could have been on one of those planes. Maybe I could have made a difference.” When you are truly transformed into a warrior and have truly invested yourself into warriorhood, you want to be there. You want to be able to make a difference.
While there is nothing morally superior about the sheepdog, the warrior, he does have one real advantage. Only one. He is able to survive and thrive in an environment that destroys 98 percent of the population.
There was research conducted a few years ago with individuals convicted of violent crimes. These cons were in prison for serious, predatory acts of violence: assaults, murders and killing law enforcement officers. The vast majority said that they specifically targeted victims by body language: slumped walk, passive behavior and lack of awareness. They chose their victims like big cats do in Africa, when they select one out of the herd that is least able to protect itself.
However, when there were cues given by potential victims that indicated they would not go easily, the cons said that they would walk away. If the cons sensed that the target was a "counter-predator," that is, a sheepdog, they would leave him alone unless there was no other choice but to engage.
One police officer told me that he rode a commuter train to work each day. One day, as was his usual, he was standing in the crowded car, dressed in blue jeans, T-shirt and jacket, holding onto a pole and reading a paperback. At one of the stops, two street toughs boarded, shouting and cursing and doing every obnoxious thing possible to intimidate the other riders. The officer continued to read his book, though he kept a watchful eye on the two punks as they strolled along the aisle making comments to female passengers, and banging shoulders with men as they passed.
As they approached the officer, he lowered his novel and made eye contact with them. “You got a problem, man?” one of the IQ-challenged punks asked. “You think you’re tough, or somethin’?” the other asked, obviously offended that this one was not shirking away from them.
“As a matter of fact, I am tough,” the officer said, calmly and with a steady gaze.
The two looked at him for a long moment, and then without saying a word, turned and moved back down the aisle to continue their taunting of the other passengers, the sheep.
Some people may be destined to be sheep and others might be genetically primed to be wolves or sheepdogs. But I believe that most people can choose which one they want to be, and I’m proud to say that more and more Americans are choosing to become sheepdogs.
Seven months after the attack on September 11, 2001, Todd Beamer was honored in his hometown of Cranbury, New Jersey. Todd, as you recall, was the man on Flight 93 over Pennsylvania who called on his cell phone to alert an operator from United Airlines about the hijacking. When he learned of the other three passenger planes that had been used as weapons, Todd dropped his phone and uttered the words, “Let’s roll,” which authorities believe was a signal to the other passengers to confront the terrorist hijackers. In one hour, a transformation occurred among the passengers--athletes, business people and parents--from sheep to sheepdogs and together they fought the wolves, ultimately saving an unknown number of lives on the ground.
“Do you have any idea how hard it would be to live with yourself after that?”
"here is no safety for honest men except by believing all possible evil of evil men."
- Edmund Burke
Reflections on the Revolution in France
Here is the point I like to emphasize, especially to the thousands of police officers and soldiers I speak to each year. In nature the sheep, real sheep, are born as sheep. Sheepdogs are born that way, and so are wolves. They didn’t have a choice. But you are not a critter. As a human being, you can be whatever you want to be. It is a conscious, moral decision.
If you want to be a sheep, then you can be a sheep and that is okay, but you must understand the price you pay. When the wolf comes, you and your loved ones are going to die if there is not a sheepdog there to protect you. If you want to be a wolf, you can be one, but the sheepdogs are going to hunt you down and you will never have rest, safety, trust or love. But if you want to be a sheepdog and walk the warrior’s path, then you must make a conscious and moral decision every day to dedicate, equip and prepare yourself to thrive in that toxic, corrosive moment when the wolf comes knocking at the door.
For example, many officers carry their weapons in church. They are well concealed in ankle holsters, shoulder holsters or inside-the-belt holsters tucked into the small of their backs. Anytime you go to some form of religious service, there is a very good chance that a police officer in your congregation is carrying. You will never know if there is such an individual in your place of worship, until the wolf appears to slaughter you and your loved ones.
I was training a group of police officers in Texas, and during the break, one officer asked his friend if he carried his weapon in church. The other cop replied, “I will never be caught without my gun in church.” I asked why he felt so strongly about this, and he told me about a police officer he knew who was at a church massacre in Ft. Worth, Texas, in 1999. In that incident, a mentally deranged individual came into the church and opened fire, gunning down 14 people. He said that officer believed he could have saved every life that day if he had been carrying his gun. His own son was shot, and all he could do was throw himself on the boy’s body and wait to die. That cop looked me in the eye and said, “Do you have any idea how hard it would be to live with yourself after that?”
Some individuals would be horrified if they knew this police officer was carrying a weapon in church. They might call him paranoid and would probably scorn him. Yet these same individuals would be enraged and would call for “heads to roll” if they found out that the airbags in their cars were defective, or that the fire extinguisher and fire sprinklers in their kids’ school did not work. They can accept the fact that fires and traffic accidents can happen and that there must be safeguards against them. Their only response to the wolf, though, is denial, and all too often their response to the sheepdog is scorn and disdain. But the sheepdog quietly asks himself, “Do you have any idea how hard it would be to live with yourself if your loved ones were attacked and killed, and you had to stand there helplessly because you were unprepared for that day?”
The warrior must cleanse denial from his thinking. Coach Bob Lindsey, a renowned law enforcement trainer, says that warriors must practice “when/then” thinking, not “if/when.” Instead of saying,“If it happens then I will take action,” the warrior says, “When it happens then I will be ready.”
It is denial that turns people into sheep. Sheep are psychologically destroyed by combat because their only defense is denial, which is counterproductive and destructive, resulting in fear, helplessness and horror when the wolf shows up.
Denial kills you twice. It kills you once, at your moment of truth when you are not physically prepared: You didn’t bring your gun; you didn’t train. Your only defense was wishful thinking. Hope is not a strategy. Denial kills you a second time because even if you do physically survive, you are psychologically shattered by fear, helplessness, horror and shame at your moment of truth.
Chuck Yeager, the famous test pilot and first man to fly faster than the speed of sound, says that he knew he could die. There was no denial for him. He did not allow himself the luxury of denial. This acceptance of reality can cause fear, but it is a healthy, controlled fear that will keep you alive:
"I was always afraid of dying. Always. It was my fear that made me learn everything I could about my airplane and my emergency equipment, and kept me flying respectful of my machine and always alert in the cockpit."
- Brigadier General Chuck Yeager
Yeager, An Autobiography
Gavin de Becker puts it like this in Fear Less, his superb post-9/11 book, which should be required reading for anyone trying to come to terms with our current world situation:
"..denial can be seductive, but it has an insidious side effect. For all the peace of mind deniers think they get by saying it isn’t so, the fall they take when faced with new violence is all the more unsettling. Denial is a save-now-pay-later scheme, a contract written entirely in small print, for in the long run, the denying person knows the truth on some level."
And so the warrior must strive to confront denial in all aspects of his life, and prepare himself for the day when evil comes.
If you are a warrior who is legally authorized to carry a weapon and you step outside without that weapon, then you become a sheep, pretending that the bad man will not come today. No one can be “on” 24/7 for a lifetime. Everyone needs down time. But if you are authorized to carry a weapon, and you walk outside without it, just take a deep breath, and say this to yourself... “Baa.”
This business of being a sheep or a sheepdog is not a yes-no dichotomy. It is not an all-or-nothing, either-or choice. It is a matter of degrees, a continuum. On one end is an abject, head-in-the-grass sheep and on the other end is the ultimate warrior. Few people exist completely on one end or the other. Most of us live somewhere in between. Since 9-11 almost everyone in America took a step up that continuum, away from denial. The sheep took a few steps toward accepting and appreciating their warriors, and the warriors started taking their job more seriously. The degree to which you move up that continuum, away from sheephood and denial, is the degree to which you and your loved ones will survive, physically and psychologically at your moment of truth.
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