Those who should, will

Secretary Panetta lifted the ban on women on combat roles.  The Washington Post calls this a "watershed policy change that was informed by women’s valor in Iraq and Afghanistan and that removes the remaining barrier to a fully inclusive military."

Given my time spent as an AH-1W pilot in the Marine Corps, my phone, email, Facebook, twitter, etc has been bombarded with questions about how I feel about this.  So rather than answer everyone individually, below, I wrap up all question and give my response. 

First, a disclaimer.  I am no longer in the Marine Corps.  The views, idea, feeling, rants, offensive comments, off color remarks, or general pissyness are mine and mine alone.  They do not reflect the the views of the Corps, or University of Denver.  So, with that aside, here I go. 

Historically, the central question of the women in combat debate has been “are women physically capable of performing the duties required for combat?” This question is quickly and easily answered.  Objectively, women are increasingly proving themselves as physically capable as men.  In both endurance events and tests of strength-to-weight, women are evening the playing field and living up to what has been thought of as “mens standards.”  Women have also proven themselves tactically as capable as men in all objectively measurable fields. 

If these objective standards – how fast one can run, how much one can lift, how well one can shoot – were the only indicators of success in combat there would be no argument or debate; those meeting the standard would be inarguably successful.  However, success in combat units is determined by more than just objective abilities, and thus the debate deepens. It is universally accepted that the safety and success of our military units is paramount.  It is for this reason that I believe the debate needs to shift away from “are women capable” of serving to “are women a value added”.   This changes the argument from “can or cannot” to “should or should not”; a question that needs to be addressed top-down rather than bottom-up. 

Throughout the last decade-plus of the United States’ involvement in the conflicts encompassing the Global War on Terror, there is no arguing that women have found themselves “in combat situations.”  In these situations, women have shown valor, strength, leadership, fortitude, and upheld the values of honor, courage and commitment.  Many have given the ultimate sacrifice, and each and every one of them deserves a place in history and our hearts as a true hero. 

But being “in combat situations” is not the same as being a “combatant.”  Combatants are offensive.  Their mission is to close with and destroy the enemy.  They seek engagement.  Their primary purpose is to assert superiority over an enemy force. 

Having the technical and tactical skill to react properly when coming under fire during the performance of primary duties – whether it be an ambushed logistics patrol, FET team patrol, or MP checkpoint attack – provides a foundation of knowledge and experience necessary for the argument supporting a woman’s ability to be in combat.  However, mastery of this baseline alone does not necessarily equate to success of a woman in the role of a combatant. 

Successful combat units are a product of the intangible – the fabled esprit de corps – as much as technical and tactical proficiency.  This elusive intangible cannot be “trained in” to a recruit.  It cannot be taught in infantry school.  No amount of extra pushups, remedial weapons training or nights in the field ensure that it exists. 

Women are just as capable as men of developing the necessary esprit de corps.  But it cannot be forced.  I hope that in implementing these changes, no arbitrary timelines are put in place.  If it takes 2 weeks, 2 months, 2 years or 2 decades for the right women to come into combat roles, so be it.  The US military is an all-volunteer force, and to respect that tradition, combat roles must be volunteer.  Quota systems will only set the work of every woman who has served back, by making light of the sacrifices involved in paving the paths they did.

I have the upmost trust that the DoD will set standards appropriately.  And I sincerely hope that the civilian oversight and general population will let this change grow organically and fruitfully, while respecting the grave responsibility for life given to each member of the US military. 

I can say from experience that the road for these women will not be easy.  I have chronicled much of my coming to grips with what my experience and service mean.  But I know that I, and all my sisters in arms, are more than capable to serve in all roles necessary for defense of this great nation.  Yet it will not be easy.  And hopefully the public will understand that in such a situation we all must be patient for the women who should emerge to lead our sons and daughters in arms, and not force them in their time.      

Calm in the Storm

I write as I am sitting between classes on my marathon day of Grad School.  I probably have some reading, some project, some something I should be doing to be a "good student."  But I need this hour to not completely fry my brain today.
I took on another job this week with Oceans Beyond Piracy, and organization I am beyond excited to be involved with.  I am still involved with Dr. Chenoweth's research, and taking a full-time load of classes.  And I recently had the privilege of becoming involved with Combat Apathy... but expect a full post on the awesomeness that is that in the near future.
And I am doing all I can to be supportive of Andy's bike shop endeavor, Golden's Newest hot spot, Rise Above Cycles.
Oh yea, and I'm trying to race my bike.

With all this going on, I have moments of thinking I'm biting off more than I can chew.  I have fears that I am not going to be a good student, researcher, employee, racer, partner, lover, friend.  I fear that my wide-eyed excitement of realizing that my experiences have positive and exciting implications for my professional future will lead me to isolation.

Especially around the new year, there is a lot of talk about balance.  About finding in in one's professional and personal endeavors, about shedding the negative, and "detoxifying" life choices.  The image most often associated with this is a quiet beach, or a flower, or a loan bird.
However, I prefer to think of is more like this:

I know I have taken on a lot.  But I also know that I have the strength to remain balanced.  For once I feel supported and confidant that going forward my decisions are wise.  

   

With a Bang and a Whimper

2012 taught me I suck at Blogging.  Maybe for 2013 I'll make it a resolution to do better.  Or maybe I'll stay sporadic with all of this.  
But, at the year ends, it is only natural to desire retrospectives and attempts at meaning.  So, with great thanks to Atis from whom I stole this, here is a guide to the year that was 2012 and that will be 2013... 

1. What did you do in 2012 that you’d never done before?

Trying to think of some epic firsts... but lets see.  I raced in Colorado, I got out of the Marine Corps, I let someone take care of me when I was hurt, I saw a meteor shower, I went back to school.  Nothing screams "OMG I CAN'T BELIEVE I DID THAT, IT WAS AWESOME" but all in all it was an accomplishment.  

2. Did you keep your new years’ resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

I kept about 1/3 of the ones I made for 2012.  2 of them are gonna have to hold over for 2013.  Other than that, I haven't thought too much about my 2013 ones, other than possibly communicate better with my coach (since I suck at it) and getting published again. 

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?

My cousin, this year.  My sister at the very end of 2011

4. Did anyone close to you die?

Give my previous line of work, I sadly loose someone who meant something to be more often than I would like. 

5. What countries/states did you visit?

I went on far too many road trips, encompassing South Carolina, North Carolina, Virginia, Maryland, Pennsylvania, Delaware, New York, New Jersey, Vermont, West Virginia, Ohio, Illinois, Missouri, Kansas, Nebraska, Iowa, Michigan, Wyoming, Colorado, Utah, Nevada, California.  Done with car trips for the year (maybe 2013 is the year of none)

For work, I'll go by continents... North and South America, Europe, Asia... yea, that covers it enough... 

   

6. What would you like to have in 2013 that you lacked in 2012?

An idea of a job for when I'm done with school... 

7. What dates from 2012 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

May 15 - I got out of the Marine Corps

May 20 - I broke my arm 

June 10 - my first outside ride in Colorado

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?

Professionally, I transitioned out of the Marine Corps and became a Sie Fellow at the Korbel School at University of Denver.  

Personally, I completed, with arguable decent results, all NRC/NCC races I entered, despite a broken arm, cross country move and beginning to live at altitude. 

9. What was your biggest failure?

Burning bacon on a few occasions.  

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?

I broke my arm (see above).  Pretty much worst timing ever too.... 

But I got a cool purple cast that matched my kit when I was able to ride again. 

11. What was the best thing you bought?

The Venge

Or the Mountain Bike

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?

The PhD for whom I am a research assistant, Dr. Erica Chenoweth.  She won a kick-ass award and I am lucky to get to work with her.  

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?

99% of the politicians.  From negative ads, to attacks on women and other groups, I am glad to be out of the Washington world. 

14. Where did most of your money go?

Bikes, moving.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?

Starting a new adventure as a student, in an incredibly awesome state. I am surrounded by great mentors and advisors and am excited about the potential for my future.  

I am also lucky to be in the company of the greatest man ever, and am incredibly excited about his future as a new bike shop owner.

16. What song will always remind you of 2012?

Call Me Maybe.  Or maybe Mana-Mana 

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
a) happier or sadder? Happier
b) thinner or fatter? Thinner
c) richer or poorer? Monetarily poorer... student life isn't exactly prosperous.  But personally, much richer

   

18. What do you wish you’d done more of?

Writing and Reading.  Never seems to be enough time for that. 

19. What do you wish you’d done less of?

Fretting about what people thought about my decisions.  I made some huge life decisions - professionally, personally and athletically.  I know not everyone agreed with them, and I spent a lot of time worrying that I was a disappointment. But I've found peace and happiness, so it's worth it. 

20. How did you spend Christmas?

My sister's house in Cali.

21. What was your favorite TV program?

We recently got an Apple TV... so Battle Star Galactia.  Currently running, however, would be Big Bang Theory

  

22. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?

Only the VA as an organization.  Other than that, I hate no one or nothing. 

23. What was the best book you read?

Professionally, Who Governs the Globe?

Personally, I'll throw a shout out to a friend.  I loved both War of the Seasons (now write #3!!!)

24. What was your greatest musical discovery?

A crazy small bluegrass band at a friend's wedding. 

25. What did you want and get?

New bike.  School Fellowship

26. What did you want and not get?

My house was denied a sale on a short sale.  Instead I lost more than a year's salary on it. 

27. What was your favorite film of this year?

Argo.  Best movie I've ever seen.

28. What did you do on your birthday?

I was in Colorado for Discover Korbel.  I raced Boulder Roubaix and had dinner with my mom and sister and niece.   

29. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

Getting to race Liberty Classic.  The broken arm was the week prior... 

30. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2012?

Everything from classic professional to spandex this year.  

31. What kept you sane?

Racing my bike, and playing with the adorable Jack Russels that are now a member of my family. 

32. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?

I wish I had a celebrity crush. But in the cycling world, I'm incredibly impressed with the work that Joe D and Evie Stevens did.  

Shannon Galpin's work is an inspiration from a mix of professional desires and personal passion. 

33. What political issue stirred you the most?

I found it very interesting how women were portrayed in this election - by both sides.  All I have to say is I look forward to the day when society calls women who pursued careers they believed in role models rather than disappointments to womanhood, and women who are successful inspirations rather than bitches.  As long as we're seen as an issue rather than valuable and necessary participants in society, however, this will never happen. 

  

34. Who did you miss?

All my DC friends... 

35. Who was the best new person you met?

Andy :)

36. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2012:

The world needs status quo breakers.  The world needs passionate dreamers.  The world needs souls willing to create the new paradigm.  Being this person is hard.  But hopefully worth it. 

2012 came and went.  And 2013 will inevitably begin.  As everyone looks to the superlatives this time of year, I am reminded of T.S. Elliot, and the end of his poem "The Hallow Men."     

This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.

For 2013 I will challenge myself to live with enough bangs, that the end will inevitably seem like a whimper in retrospect.  

Go World

I love the Olympics.  Everything about them.  I love that despite the deep political and social divisions wracking our country right now we can join together and cheer with a rancorous "USA USA" as our Nation's representatives push themselves to victory.  I love the spotlight brought upon the more obscure sports - archery, trampoline, shooting, etc - and those who dedicate their lives to perfection are, for a moment, rewarded with the eyes of the world.  It's the time when it's perfectly acceptable for a 300 pound man to cry his eyes out, and a 100 pound girl to hold us all on her shoulders.  It is truly magical.

Throughout the Olympics, we hear the word "fearless" over and over, as well.  And this strikes a chord.  Outsides often tell me I "must be fearless."  Whether it's for flying combat missions, breaking barriers in womens' roles, ice climbing, racing my bike, it gets thrown around a lot.  So hearing commentators throw the word around throughout coverage of the games got my ears perked up and me to reflecting on what truly is fearless about these games.  Sure, anyone getting up and competing on the international stage is fearless.  Balancing the real world with following your dream is fearless.  Making a game winning play, bridging to the race winning break, sticking the perfect landing require an athlete to shove fear to the dark recesses of the mind where they can't see the light of day.  Sport psychologists have spent years evaluating the minds of champions, and their ability to do this; but this is not the fearlessness that I have found inspiring in these games.  Look beyond the shimmer of the podium, and there you will see fearlessness.

Fearless is the women getting a cancer diagnosis today who watched Amber Neben race and decides not to sell her bike.  Fearless is Aurora, CO trading coverage of the acts of a despicable human being for the smiles and joy of Missy Franklin.  Fearless is the girl who finds her way off the streets and into the gym after watching the Fab 5.  Fearless is the teenager standing up to her molester after watching Kayla Harrison come forward with her story.  Fearless is the 10 year old an Kabul, or Doha, or Tripoli who puts on running shoes for the first time after seeing their country women line up toe to toe with the best in the world.  Fearless is training for the marathon on a 2 miles circuit because it is the only place in your country where you know you are safe from land mines.  Fearless is trusting a teammate with whom you were once engaged in civil war. 

Fearless is that once every four years the world can come together and respect hard work, discipline, and dedication.  Fearless is admitting that I (who cry and nothing) got a little misty watching Tahmina Kohistani take the starting blocks this morning, because maybe the fearlessness of one woman helped spark the fearlessness of another. 


Go Fearless.  Go World. 

I do, in fact, have it all

"Having it all."  There's been a lot of talk about this lately.  I've had numerous people send me Anne-Marie Slaughter's article.  Some just out of curious inquiries as to my thoughts, some with a "see-I-told-you-so" smugness.  And today's announcement of Marissa Mayer - a pregnant women - being named Yahoo!'s CEO sent my inbox all a twitter again with "what do you think about that?!?!"s.  The first round of all of this, in response to Slaughter's unsolicited open letter of advice to all female professionals left me a little amused.  And honestly wanting to talk about it with a few of the [more respectful] pings to my inbox.  But this second round has left me a tad annoyed.  And pondering the definition of "having it all."

Who decided that "it all" included being a wife and mother?  And that those who were not were intrinsically lacking some gene and therefore not complete or satisfactory as a woman?  And, more importantly, when did become socially acceptable to use this idea of "it all" as a lens through which every woman over the age of 30 must be viewed?  In an age where we tote ourselves on being socially accepting of all creeds, colors and lifestyles, society still judges the childless as somehow sub-par or unfulfilled.  Having children is a choice.  I respect those who choose it.  But it's not my choice.  So, to my friends with children, before you assert "you'll understand when you have kids" to someone, take a moment and consider what they may ask you.

I have never asserted to my stay at home mother friends "oh you'll understand when you go to war."  Or when their husbands annoy them "oh you'll understand when you don't have one."  These are choices I've made.  Not choices I impose on others.  Nor a lens through which I view them.

It's 2012.  And about time the June Cleaver ideal of "it all" is in need of change. 

At no time when I was flying Cobras did I think, "gee, a baby would make things better right now."  So I guess I've already failed at having it all.  I should have given up there.  Not pursued further professional qualifications in the Cobra.  And I definitely shouldn't have pursued my job at the liaison office.  Or racing bikes.  Because those long hours in the office, work trips, and training rides would interfere with pregnancies, feedings and soccer games.  Again.  Failure at "it all."

However what if I were to argue that, I do, in fact "have it all."  Because I have a man who loves me as much as I love him.  And we're equal partners.  And I have a career in the Marines I can look back on with pride, as I served my country well.  I am a part of one of the primer graduate programs in the country.  I line up against the best women in the country on the bike (and sometimes men) several times a week.  I have childless girlfriends who are PhDs, scientists, artists, lawyers, doctors, ambassadors.  They race bikes, row boats, climb mountains.  They are published authors and business owners.  And while our conversations wander into the "what if" or the "I want" parts of life, it is never a lament about how we're missing something, but a celebration of how we are going to be able to cram more into "it all."

I am not disparaging those who have made the choice to be domestic.  It is a choice and a noble and necessary pursuit.  But it is not "it all."  It's something.  It's an option.  But those who choose a career or passion are not missing something.

In the past few months, I have spent quite a bit of time pondering what my time in the Marine Corps meant.  I was constantly hounded with questions of sacrifice, and what I had given up to serve.  Yes, I did "give up" quite a bit.  But it was a choice.  Every choice has consequences, and every consequence shapes us.  My consequences have taught me more about what "it all" is.  And what it isn't.

So, for now I'm going to go race my bike.  And pursue my education.  And further my career.  And face every day as a new adventure with my partner.  And wake up thinking, damn, I have it all.           

  

Peas and Carrots

If anything, racing in Colorado is going to make me loose any nerves whatsoever about racing at the national level.  Again, at a local crit I was toeing the line with Exergy, MayMyRide, NOW, Team Type I... and a sundry of former national champions. But for some reason this time I wasn't nervous.  I chatted casually on the line, got a good luck kiss, and held my position on the front row like I belonged there.  The race went off, and in true Colorado fashion there was no "on hey lets just ride around."  The field strung out and splintered in now time, and by lap 5 or 6 we were lapping riders.  The first 10 min or so I had to get my wits about me.  And stop thinking about who's wheel I was sitting on and start thinking about how I was going to move up.  It was about this time that I realized the field had been whittled down to 12-15 women, all wanting to race hard and whittle the field down to 1.  Attack after attack and each was chased down.  It was organized, hard, aggressive.  Everything I want racing to be.  The boy (who had just had an awesome 2nd place finish in his race winning the field sprint) was screaming at me on every lap to move up, do less work, etc etc.  His encouragement  propelled me to get up front and launch a few of my own attacks, win a few primes, and feel like I belonged there.  And then the heavens opened and we raced in a torrential downpour of a thunderstorm.  And the pace didn't lessen, nor the attacks subside.  We dropped a few more riders, and came across the line strung out, soaked and muddy.  I was finally happy again with how I raced.  Would I have liked to have placed higher?  Of course.  But being out here, still not fully acclimated to the altitude, still recovering from a broken bone, knowing I'm strong enough to hang with the ladies out here, and that my aggression is back, I'm exited for the rest of the season.

This morning I was reading some "tips from the pros" blog thing, and the importance of a support network in racing was brought up in a few different ways.  And while it took a broken arm and a 2,000 mile move for me to realize it, I do need this support system.  I have always had an amazing family who I love and to whom owe more debts that I could ever repay.  However it is not until this past injury that I have come to understand what having that rock is all about, and how much it has improved my racing.  And I honestly believe it's one of the reasons I'm back at this whole "I can be a bike racer" thing again.  So, in no particular order, I've come up with a list of reasons why I, the self-asserted most independent and hard-headed person I know, need a pea to my carrot.

- I get faster.  Dudes, here's a piece of advice.  Drop your girlfriends/wives on anything but a recovery ride.  And women, get angry, but not mad when they do.  A huge mental barrier was broken down when I realized "he's trying to drop me because he thinks I can be better" not "he's being an ass, doesn't he realize we're riding together?"  I believe love means pushing each other to be your best, and this doesn't happen in the comfort zone.  (and, by the way, every once and a while I drop him now too.)  Rather than letting me sit on the couch, I was plopped on the trainer. 

-I'm calmer.  This I didn't realize until I was broken.  Now I know I'm intense and Type A and probably a bit over competitive.  But the past few yeas have been so full board go that I never realized how the intensity in both my personal life and work effected my mood daily.  It took me not being able to do anything for myself to be still long enough to realize that there is a strength in calmness. 

- I'm bolder.  Nothing will make you race hard like having your name screamed and someone else investing in you.  When I was down, a huge motivation for me to get racing quickly was the time, money and effort that someone else had put in to my recovery and racing. 

- Breakdowns don't lead to being mentally broken.  At least twice (but probably more now) I've had meltdowns on the bike.  Be it complete exhaustion or a hand that won't cooperate with shifting anymore, my minimeltdowns have been squashed before they were allowed to start.  Apparently there's not crying in training.  Or at least none tolerated.

- I don't have to do it all.  I'm still getting used to the idea that there is someone who wants to help me, and enjoys it.  And anticipates what I may need before I even know.  Whether it's preemptively making another pot of coffee, showing up with a lattee when I'm neck deep in a paper, or changing hubs on race wheels, it really is the little things.

- I remembered why I love racing.

- I'm not judged for how much I eat.

- Laundry gets done (especially since there's so much of it!)  

- And I will stop this before it gets mushy. 

Racing last weekend was awesome.  And it had nothing to do with the result.  And everything to do with realizing the importance of my pea.

Beginning in Denver....

I have been in Colorado for three weeks now.  A whirlwind of driving cross country, unpacking, starting school, starting a job, acclimating to altitude, training, getting a cast off, racing, reading and writing.  My transition from Marine to student is becoming more solidified.  I am never early for anything anymore, and in fact, with the exception of class, subscribe to the tenant that if you're not 15 minutes late, you're early.  I don't make my bed regularly anymore, and have no problem calling anyone I meet by their first name.

However, I have also managed to maintain a fair amount of my Kyishness, as it were.  In the words of my academic adviser, I've taken to academia with "all the grace of a bull driving a tank into an Ivory Tower."  I never was good at making a quiet entrance.  And while the vast amount of reading, and the structure of academic prose-writing are taking some getting used to, I truly am enjoying the subjects and the ability to put the past decade of my life in an academic perspective.  I also relish my schedule that allows me the freedom to drink coffee out of a mug on my couch every morning, ride at the crack of 3pm, grocery shop at non rush-hour, and nap from time to time.  There are days I haven't gotten out of my pajamas until well afternoon, busily typing away, and wondering why I didn't know this life existed sooner.

The same can be said for the training and racing out here.  Unencumbered by city traffic, I don't think I've logged a single "junk mile" since I've arrived.  I can do 70 mile training rides from my front door and only run into one stoplight.  There are stretched allowing me to do 40 continuous minutes of 40/20s (ok, so maybe I hate this fact), and when it gets hot at home, just start riding up and cooler mountain air awaits.  My liberation in Colorado riding may be a bit exaggerated due to the fact that I am finally castless, and feel like bursting out in "Free At Last" song every once and a while.  Being castless also means being able to race again, an admitting slightly frightening prospect as I've been out of the loop for a while.  But if my first experiences here are any indication, racing here will teach me far more than I have learned before.  Rather than the "who wants to pull?  NOT ME!" game that leads to crits averaging 17mph, fields are full of pros, Olympians, and former world champions who are more apt to say "Ok, so who's keeping up?"  Four days out of a cast I hopped in a super technical fast crit, and safely hung out in the pack.  For the first time ever, sitting in was a victory.  Priorities and expectations may have to be shifted slightly, but damn, I love racing my bike with these women.

The move has served me well, as a mist all the change and newness, I am finally making sense of the dualities in me, and allowing them to coexist.  I am in a place where I can train and race hard and know that everyone out there wants to rip my legs off, but still embrace my femininity.  In addition to allowing me the training time I desire, my new schedule has allowed me the flexibility and freedom to be both badass and girly, bullish and soft.  I can beat boys up graveled climbs, snotting over myself, with manicured nails.  I can speak of my experiences flying combat missions while wearing sundresses.  I can line up and race against the best women in the country every weekend, and go home and cook.  The lack of rigidity and structure has allowed me to get to know and love myself, and let myself be fully loved.

Slowing down was not easy.  And there are moments when I miss the comfort of knowing where I'm supposed to be next and when I'm supposed to be there.  It has given me great amounts of sympathy for those who never made the transition fully.  There were many nights crying over what I would do next.  And many days spent searching for sense in a world free from structure.  I am a lucky one in that I crave a sense of adventure, and can't stay planted for too long.  I am also one of the most fortunate in that I have the most incredible partner in adventure a girl could ever ask for.  Every day I am more excited for this new adventure, and more confidant that the decisions of my past were merely building blocks for it. 

Much is still unknown.  I don't know what I want to do when I'm done with school.  I don't know where I want to be when it's all over.  But I know, for now, the mile high city is a good place to start.