Fitting in While Standing Out

The idea that someone can conform to one set of standards while simultaneously rebelling against others may be difficult for some people to understand. I was fortunate to experience this myself. When I was growing up in Florida I always heard my grandfather, father and uncle tell stories about their time in the military. As a boy these stories were a source of great entertainment while also being a window into some of our countries greatest achievements. Whether it was WWII, Vietnam or the tensions on the DMZ each story had meaning and a few punch lines to boot. As I grew older I listened less and less the stories that they told. After all I heard them all before. Besides the days of serving your nation were a thing of the past. Sure there were men and women that did it but they certainly had no impact on my life. Up through middle school and into high school I started to hang out with the kids that fought every rule there was to reign young people in from the their own stupid behavior. I would skateboard downtown, skip school to go surfing or generally act like a complete moron. All for the sake of rebelling against those damn rules. As I did all this my father would tell me that one day I would see that all my fooling around would be a pathetic attempt at escaping what I was meant to do. And with typical teenage attitude I dismissed his every word. Then one day I was sitting in homeroom listening to our daily announcements when that "one day" came. My school principal asked that we observe a moment of silence for a graduate of the previous year's class. He had been killed in some far off African country while serving in the Army. At home that night I watched the news with my family and I saw American soldiers drug naked through the streets of some foreign city while people kicked and spit on them. I can remember looking over at my father and seeing a small tear well up in his eye. My father, the tough guy that hardly ever showed emotion was showing crying? After dinner my father asked me to go on a walk with him and I resisted. He persisted, so I went. While we walked he explained that the dead soldiers we saw on the news had made the ultimate sacrifice. It was then that I started to understand why I had been told all those stories growing up. I started to ask more questions about his time in the military was like and revealed to me a family tradition. Every male in my family on both sides had served in the military. At first I didn't believe him but showed me that it all started with the American Revolution. It was that night that I decided to become a soldier myself as soon as I graduated. It was as if a door inside my head that was always locked before was opened. The decision just made sense. When I told my friends about my plan they all laughed. This was just a reaction to the previous day's announcement. I would get over it. But they didn't understand what it meant to me to do this. Today after a decade of service I can look I the mirror and know that I am making a difference. My only regret is that my grandfather was not alive to see me follow in everyone's boot steps. I know that he is looking down on me and smiling.