Harvard ROTC

[This isn't a comprehensive argument, nor a perfect one. This is my individual expression of some of the reasons I agree with the reinstatement of the Naval ROTC program at my alma mater, Harvard.]

Finally.
You know, I was starting to get worried that my school wouldn't bring ROTC back to campus.
I was getting worried that my school would condone the bias that exists here against the United States Armed Forces.
I was getting angry.
I was getting angry that my boyfriend, a PFC in the US Army, felt that he was unwelcome on my campus.
I was getting angry at the blatant prejudice he experienced when he came to a school dance in Class A uniform.
A man wearing a dress wouldn't face that kind of opposition here, and he shouldn't. I know that there are members of my school community who would publicly come to his aid if that man felt antagonized at any time.
A man wearing dress uniform should be given no less respect than a man wearing a dress.
Why then, is it wrong for a school to support those students who feel called to defend our country by arms? Many opponents of ROTC forget the distinction between those who fight wars and those who cause them. My school supports Catholic student groups on campus. That doesn't mean that my school condones the actions of the Church during the Spanish Inquisition, or, more recently, rapes of young boys committed by Catholic priests. Many see Church practices as discriminatory against women and homosexuals, as well as many other minorities. Should the Harvard Catholic Center be shut down? This is a flawed metaphor, but it speaks to the belief that the university cannot support students who want to be part of a discriminatory organization. I would like to argue that, if Harvard were to hold fast to this practice, there would be no support left for any students.

The reinstatement of ROTC is not a reinstatement of prejudice against people who identify themselves as LGBTQ. It is the reinstatement of the idea that students who wish to serve their country, bringing a new intellectual, military perspective to their classrooms, deserve recognition. It is a repudiation of the idea that military service is not acceptable at Harvard University. It is not a repudiation of the push for an anti-discriminatory military. In order to continue to argue for the rights of LGBTQ students to bear arms and defend our nation, Harvard can't simultaneously deny support to those already exercising this right. Bias cannot be fought with bias, and cooperation with a military which has continually regarded this institution as an important political force will create more positive change than a blunt insistence that the military must be perfected before progress to reunite two old allies can be made.

I was getting worried that this institution would justify a symbolic spit in the face of today's, and yesterday's, American troops.
When my dad returned home from his stint as paratrooper in the Vietnam War, he witnessed the unacceptable treatment of service people who were vilified by the misdirected anger of the American people.
I applaud Harvard for taking steps to prevent this from happening again.
I am very proud to belong to a school that supports the armed forces, our first line of defense for the freedoms of a country that has always been, in turn, very proud of its first and oldest university.

It's a process.

I've noticed that I go through stages whenever I try to beat a new game on NES. And usually when I say "beat a new game" I usually mean "get past the third level of the games I had been playing since I was seven." Well, in November 2010 I beat the original Super Mario Brothers. It was amazing. I did a victory lap around the yard and sort of gave myself an asthma attack, then got back to my room and realized that I had no idea what the purpose of my life was from that point on. So I decided to keep going.
Super Mario Bros. 3. came home with me from break, as well as the original Legend of Zelda. That gold cartridge probably doubled my nerd cred right there, at least. SMB2 stayed in NH. Because it sucks.
I started playing.
I started swearing.
In that order.

Only tonight after a level of SMB3 from hell (6-5 sucks.) did all of my anger, frustration, and hopelessness seem familiar, familiar enough to systematize into a list.
1. Optimism. "Ooh, this is fun! I enjoy this. It's different. I'm entertained."
2. Mild surprise. "Oh, wow, I didn't see this coming. This is tricky. I'll need to figure this out. But by golly, I'll be darned if it isn't cool."
3. Shock. "Damn this is hard. Do people actually do this?" (that's what she said)
3. Stubbornness. "Well this is a doozy. I'll keep at it for a little while. If I try this, this, and this, I might get somewhere soon."
4. Getting worn down. "Ok, Mario/Link/Character, let's just get to the next level, okay? Can you do that much for me, buddy?"
5. Profanity.
6. Profanity at obstacles.
7. Profanity at characters.
8. Profanity at the fucking flying fish or whatever I happen to be angry at.
9. Profanit-- "Oh, wait. I just did it."

This happens to me every single time.
It does give hope to the impossible though, now doesn't it?

L