I am writing a book intended to be a conversation among Black veterans about their experiences navigating race, racial injustice, and American patriotism. I’m finding that this is a conversation long overdue. Several veterans I have interviewed have shared complex and troubling experiences about their service. Typically, I start my interview with veterans with a directed question: What do you consider patriotism to be? The answers to the question have ranged from “no one has ever asked me that before” to “patriotism is all I have known since childhood.” For some, asking them to describe patriotism is like asking a fish to describe water; many veterans share that their families and many members of their communities have served so it is all they have ever really known. Yet, as with so many Americans irrespective of racial, ethnic, cultural background, the answer is difficult to articulate. My response to the question certainly includes every human being who left their home, their family, and their community to stand for induction in the U.S. Armed Forces and swore the Oath of Enlistment. That oath, with over 70 words, is more than twice the number of words in the Pledge of Allegiance and each one of those words bears a weight that every veteran has shouldered.
Last night I spoke with a veteran who, although he had discharged from the Army 18 years ago, still carried the burden of his oath: “I do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign or domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same…” This burden of this oath is juxtaposed with experiences of Black veterans during and after their service. While reflecting on our experiences as Black veterans, we recognized that being Black in this country AND being a veteran AND being patriotic is to stand at an intersection of identities that is complex and often misunderstood by those who have never been in our position. Our position as patriotic Black veterans is often not discussed and often treated with benign neglect. For many Black veterans, patriotism and race are intertwined through our experiences both in the military and after discharge.
Our story is an important story because the struggle for racial equality benefits more than just us. The fact is not many Americans enlist in the military these days and many veterans are the sons and daughters of veterans. This is true for many Black veterans because there is a clear history of service during and after every war since the Civil War. From the perspective of Black veterans, imagine what it means to serve a country that has yet to live up to its full promise? Do you understand what it means to be a son or daughter of a veteran who came home from their service feeling on one hand proud to have served but also came home feeling on some level disturbed – even traumatized by — being confronted with racial injustice, inequality, and anti-democratic sentiments? No, not every Black veteran suffered racial injustice in the military, but many did. We served in a military that, even now, some 74 years after integration still has a problem with white supremacist and neo-fascist activity. We served in a military with normalized Confederate culture, with ships and bases named for Confederate generals (Fort Hood, among others), Confederate victories (USS Chancellorsville), and segregationist politicians (USS John C. Stennis). The struggle for racial justice continues to this day within the military.
Right now, this country is experiencing a precarious season in our democracy. Like many Americans, Black veterans agonize over the tension between aspiration and reality of our democracy. The veteran I was talking with last night described the chill that ran through him as he watched the news coverage about January 6th, 2021. He shared words that capture the complexity of the experience of Black veterans: “Have I been serving a lie?” His question evokes the anger and sorrow of many Black veterans across generations, servicemen and women who were influenced by a sense of duty and wanted to prove their equal allegiance and citizenship to a nation that had offered so much. His words touch on the cynicism born in spaces between aspiration and reality. Most veterans were once young and idyllic, wanting to serve a country that they believe in. Many of those young, idyllic young people were Black Americans who also wanted to serve a country that would live up to the promise of democracy, an aspiration of racial equality and racial justice. As America sits today in post-election, existentialist tension waiting for votes to tally, we have days like today where the words “thank you for your service” will be offered to veterans. But I urge Americans to reflect on the human toll of military service. This is not about death and casualties during war – we commemorate those losses on Memorial Day. I mean think about the everyday sacrifices and the everyday aspirations that led to someone standing up with their right hand raised and taking an oath to protect and defend the U.S. Constitution. Think about what that has meant to Black veterans who served but came home with questions about the meaning of patriotism in America for them as Black Americans.