Human Ecologists Drive Tanks
Anne Czechanski

   In September I lost someone very dear to me, my younger brother Ben. He was a PFC Bradley mechanic in the Iron Horse brigade of the United States Army. When we talked, we often compared how drastically different our lives were. However, now that I think back on the paths we chose, I have come to realize they are essentially the same.

   To me, the United States Army always conveyed a frightening image of oppression. The image of protection was a guise for a body whose true function was to subdue the masses. I felt the despotic nature of the army was inherently known, so much so, that people in support of the Army were in all actuality in support of American imperialism and its quest for world domination. And so, two years ago when Ben told me that he joined the Army, I could only respond with, "Why the hell did you do that?"

   Ben dropped out of high school as a sophomore to begin a series of dead-end jobs at McDonald's, a Go-Kart track, and several other places that viewed a senior employee as one who had been employed for more than six months. He had no real desire to return to school; learning about Socrates' contribution to Metaphysics or the governmental structure of China never really interested him. However, at the same time, flipping burgers was definitely not a career path he envied. Therefore, when Ben heard about Job Corps, he saw an opportunity for both a practical education and an escape from minimum wage jobs. At Job Corps Ben learned the basics of mechanics and electronics while obtaining his G.E.D.

   After he joined the Army I asked Ben why he didn't search for a job as a mechanic or electrician in a company that specialized in something other than war. He often shrugged off the question with a one sentence guess-for-yourself answer. Some of my favorites are, "The job market looked pretty boring," and "Who could refuse an employer who provides free food, board, travel, and even a set of clothes?" He viewed my curiosity over his enlistment as a source of entertainment. But as ridiculous as his reasons for joining the military seemed, I was still able to extract truth from the jests. Ben was not ready to pick up work at a garage or shop. Although he enjoyed the work, to him that way of life was the same as if he were working at McDonald's. The Army provided a means to experience challenge and change. It was what I had sought when I packed my bags for COA.

   My adolescence was in some ways very different from my brother's, but our frustrations and conclusions were identical. I was earmarked as the child bound for college. Instead of staying with the Prince George's County school system (2nd worst in the state), I enrolled in 9th grade at a boarding school in rural Tappahannock, Virginia. What the school provided in rigidity and structure, it lacked in its ability to inspire. We memorized Latin, dissected fish, and recited the amendments to the Constitution in unison. Individual education did not exist; the school's sole function was to churn out degree-seeking professionals. Although I had bi-weekly interactions with my advisor, by my senior year I was more confused about the purpose of college than before I entered high school. Prior to leaving the school, the only definitive thought I could form was that if college was anything like high school than there was no way I was going. I chose COA because it was far away, a liberal arts college (I could decide what I wanted to do later), and seemed to emphasize an individualized curriculum. I didn't even bother to research the majors offered; from my high school experience, I assumed all colleges offered the same thing.

   When I arrived at COA in September, my first journey north of Delaware, it was quite a culture shock. The shock was not so much the transition from the rural South to the semi-rural New England coast, but rather the transition from an all-girls religious boarding school, to an incredibly liberal co-ed college. After greeting my roommate in front of a large poster promoting the use of marijuana I secretly wondered what I had gotten myself into. My grandmother, who dropped me off, probably wondered the same thing. My reservations only continued when I went into town and began talking with members of the local community. When I mentioned that I went to COA, people would drop me subtle hints that they believed I was a granola-eating hippie.

   Through time I have come to realize that although in some ways COA is lacking in political diversity, we are not a community of a shared belief system. Much of the community may not favor the current administration of this country, but we hold a plethora of views for who should be in power or even what the ideal system of governance is. My viewpoint on the world has constantly been challenged, not affirmed, during my time at COA.

   Just as many people believe that because I attend COA I must hug trees, many people also presumed that because Ben was in the military he must have voted for Bush. One of the worst assumptions one could make is to assume that members of the armed services support going to war with Iraq, want to drink a beer with George W. Bush, and carry NRA memberships. Members do not always support the actions taken by their institution. Individuals join the army for a multitude of reasons, the least of which may be to surround themselves with like-minded individuals. Just the thought of an armed body of people with the same thoughts, goals, and ideologies is frightening. Although each institution may have a problemsolving approach that seems aligned in politics, it is to each individual to develop their own set of beliefs from their education.

   Our search for an eye-opening experience had led me, much to my surprise, to the school of Human Ecology, and my brother to what I once termed a school of war. Soon after completing his training at Fort Knox, KY, Ben was sent to Iraq. After he received his second Purple Heart I asked him if he regretted his decision. "No," he said, "I've learned a lot." Although the full impact of his statement did not hit me at the time, I've now begun to realize the potential of the military as an extremely powerful educator.

   Upon reflection of my own educational experience, I have begun to evaluate the situations in which I feel I truly learned. My thoughts are immediately drawn to presenting at the Biological Symposium, serving on the search committee for the Administrative Dean, and interacting with customers at Irvings. True to both the military and COA, most learning takes place outside classroom doors. Ben learned valuable lessons from his experiences that I will never be able to get from the classroom. But even though I know much can be gained from time spent in the military, I still struggle with the idea of the Army as an educator.

   I believe much of my apprehension about the Army stems from blind ignorance. Although I strive to be open-minded, my education has caused me to develop a very focused viewpoint of the world, making it difficult to see past party-line politics. The Army may aim to impress in its students the importance of service; however, I look at the Iraq war and any notions of stewardship immediately vanish from my mind. I see the Army not as a vehicle to provide the youth with an experiential learning opportunity, but rather as a factory to produce weapon-bearing droids. But people are not robots. Is learning only achieved through situations that assure you that your beliefs are wholly true and divine? No. Learning requires a constant challenge of what you hold to be true.

   In the end, my struggle over the Army's educational philosophy has led me to the undeniable conclusion that the Army and COA offer very similar educations. Both institutions strive to instill in students a sense of social responsibility and moral obligation to bring about good and change where it is needed. They are institutions of stewardship, seeking only to serve through a problem-solving approach. The Army allows each man and woman to realize his or her full potential and act on it. The popular military slogan, "Be all you can be" applies to COA just as much as it does to the military. Although the means may be different, both institutions focus on creating thoughtful and proactive graduates.

   Ben's enlistment in the military taught me that it is not always as simple as COA = good and Army = bad. I learned that although institutions may take a different approach to teaching, some of the lessons learned are identical. I have come to realize that a problem-solving approach is the best method for approaching obstacles, even if no two people define the same problem or solution. I now understand that both the Army and COA subscribe to this notion. Ben and I both felt we were radically different because although we had the same problem, we approached it in seemingly unique ways. But in the end, we both acted as human ecologists.