Pat Tillman Foundation Scholars 2021 Essays

Last year I applied to Pat Tillman Scholars program. It was the last time I would apply since I am no longer eligible. It’s not the first scholarship I applied to (and certainly not the last) that I’d be rejected from. However, I think it is important to recognize that rejection happens and it happens constantly. And some – especially when intertwined with an identity can be hurtful. I have qualms about what to share and what to leverage in these applications. It often sounds like trauma porn – or a bad RuPaul episode where a queen makes herself vulnerable only to lip sync for her life and sashay away. I also have qualms about contributing to military exceptionalism – but this is a military/veteran scholarships so that moot point.

I think these were/are great essays and speak to who I am as a veteran committed to service, my research, and others. So I want to share them. They got me passed the first round so they’re somewhat successful. But what’s important is that you are and I am still successful. The essays – from my knowledge – are the same each year. So keep in mind if you’re applying again to keep your mental health in an ok place. There’s only so many times you can repeat a vulnerable memory for leverage just to sashay.

I think posting my application might be my new thing – maybe it can be called “failure porn” if that hasn’t already been done.

Discuss your motivation and decision to serve, in the military or otherwise. Explain how your unique life experience has influenced your life and your ambitions. What is the most important lesson you have learned? (400 max)

When I joined the Navy, I did not know what service meant. Like many other Americans of color, I saw the military as a way out. I saw it for the opportunities it could provide me. However, I did not realize how much harder it would be for me to reach those opportunities as a queer, Asian and Filipino American during Don’t Ask Don’t Tell.

I went to the Naval Academy Preparatory School first. There, I felt the most alone. The cadre during indoctrination suspected I was gay. They singled me out, and the harassment continued into the academic year. One day, someone even wrote faggot on my back during class. Only one person showed me kindness and helped me. That one person’s act held me together.

My true call to service came after I arrived at the Academy the next year. There, I found a cohort of queer midshipmen. For the first time I saw people like me. Working with them, I realized I could and wanted to serve in the Navy.  Best of all, I knew that we had to help each other navigate the precarious waters of secrecy and advocacy. Our presence was a statement that we belonged.

They remained my anchor and only source of help during DADT, but that was not enough. In the fleet, I was sexually harassed by a sailor while deployed. Of course, I turned to those queer midshipmen for help. But what would have empowered me during that time, instead of just staying resilient and staying the course, is a leader who looked like me.

I could not be that leader. Cancer drove me out of the Navy. Still wanting to serve, I recalled those who helped me along the way. In their spirit, I went from serving the country to serving others by volunteering for other cancer patients, mentoring foster children, and helping neighbors. Service is a value that I want reflected in all aspects of my life. Today, that value is reflected in my research about veterans transitioning to college and my work advising veterans applying to college. My ambition is to continue service through scholarship, scholarship that provides veterans the tools and resources to be empowered and to empower others.

Share your academic and career goals. How will you incorporate your experiences into these goals? How will you make a positive impact? (400 max)

Pursuing a master’s degree and then a PhD in Linguistics has allowed me to raise awareness about how language mediated the adversity I experienced during Don’t Ask Don’t Tell and bring about positive change. Accordingly, my academic goal is to expose through research how discriminatory and oppressive ideologies are engrained in the language we use. My career goal is to have a platform to use my research to advocate for and to empower those of marginalized communities. Being a Tillman Scholar and hearing how Tillman Scholars talk about their experiences will enrich my scholarship and provide a network of likeminded leaders for greater positive impact.

Since starting my academic journey, I have already had an impact. For example, motivated by my research on queer naval officers, I founded a coalition of queer and ally student organizations called Spectra Alliance. (Like my experience at the Academy, I knew we would be stronger together.) Our first event, which brought my research to life, provided a platform for transgender service members to share their lived experiences with our community and three other universities. Our next event is “OUT in Research,” a conference which will elevate the research and needs of queer students at Georgetown and plant the seed for a dedicated queer research program.

In 2020, I started my dissertation. I examine how veterans talk about their transition into student life. Findings from my study have already impacted veteran programming at Georgetown. For example, I initiated a community of mentors called Veterans Helping Veterans (VHV) to help other veterans transitioning to the rigors of academia. From VHV, a women-veterans special interest group emerged. And, in collaboration with the LGBTQ Resource Center, VHV will hold a queer military career panel. This panel and the veteran women’s group highlight VHV’s mission and the spirit of Georgetown: commitment to service, veterans for others, and the celebration and inclusion of diversity. It is through my commitment to service that my academic and professional goals collide. My academic goals center on developing the scholarship needed for improving those of marginalized communities. My career goals are bringing that research to life through positive social change. My research has had a positive impact in my local community already at Georgetown. As a Tillman Scholar, I can have a greater and broader positive impact in the military and in higher education.

In what unique ways has the COVID 19 pandemic affected you and your candidacy to become a Tillman Scholar? (optional, 250 words)

In 2016 I was diagnosed with Leukemia for the second time and had to receive a bone marrow transplant. While the general population has a 95-99% survival rate, I have a 68% survival rate as a transplant recipient. 

While concerned about my health, my dissertation research was immediately impacted by COVID-19. My original dissertation plan was an ethnographic study of the socialization process into the US Naval Academy during the Summer of 2020. It took me two years to design the project, collect the relevant scholarship, gain access to the Academy, and raise personal funds to support the project. However, prior to meeting with the Commandant, the nationwide shutdowns took place. Two years of work disappeared.

I was still determined to start my dissertation that Fall of 2020. In July, with a new idea, I designed a new project, collected the relevant scholarship, and passed the institutional review board in two weeks. Because of my supportive faculty, I immediately began collecting data before passing my dissertation prospectus defense in November.

While COVID-19 has made doing research more difficult and canceled all my public speaking opportunities, it has elevated the inequities in marginalized communities. Examples of these inequities emerge in my own research. Now more than ever, my research can benefit from a platform like the Pat Tillman Foundation and raise awareness for positive social change in these communities.

Special Skills or Expertise (optional)

Three skills I want to bring attention to are my skills in illustration and photography, conducting and facilitating meaningful conversations, and community-building.

Before applying to the US Naval Academy, I wanted to go to art school. I had taken art classes in high school, specifically a class in graphic design where I found I like illustrating and photography. Throughout my time at the academy, I designed logos for sports teams and organized my own photography shows. While serving on my first ship, I used my photography abilities as the collateral duty public affairs officer and to document my deployments and travels. More recently, I have returned to my love of illustrating and have illustrated large murals for friends and their homes. This skill also came in handy during my graduate assistantship in the Georgetown Veterans Office where I redesigned all the flyers and information pamphlets, as well as the illustrations and logos for our newsletters, website, and online material.

A second skill I have is facilitating productive and meaningful conversations. This is because most of my research has consisted of interview data, or what we as linguists call “semi-structured conversations.” While I always have a set of questions prepared, I allow the conversation to flow on its own. And not only do I practice this skill during research projects, but I also have to later transcribe and analyze my interview data. This allows me to reflect on my own conversational mannerisms, catch things I could have asked about, and make myself a better listener. This skill has transferred to my personal life as it has overall improved how I make interpersonal connections with people.

My last skill is community-building. While in the Navy, especially overseas, I tried to connect people and help others build community with like-minded people. When a sailor needed help, I liked being able to connect them to the resources they needed. As a PhD candidate, I like to connect individuals who may share the same research interests so that they can potentially collaborate. In my department, I initiated a mentor program that matched incoming graduate students with seasoned graduate students. I also like to connect groups to create stronger communities and coalitions. I did this last year when I initiated Spectra Alliance. It started out as GradPride and OUT@MSB, two queer organizations at Georgetown and then it became five organizations.

On being the “model minority”

The last few weeks have been challenging for many Asian-Americans as we witness the rise in violent anti-Asian American hate crimes throughout the United States. It’s been nearly three weeks since the shootings in Atlanta that killed Yong Ae Yue, Suncha Kim, Soon Chung Park, Hyun Jung Grant, Daoyou Feng, Xiaojie Tan, Paul Andrew Michels, Elcias Hernandez-Ortiz, and Delaina Ashley Yaun. And then, not even two weeks later, Vilma Kari was attacked on her way to church. The video of the security guard casually closing the door outrages me. To me, it serves as a metaphor that frames American apathy towards Asian-Americans.

So There are so many different things to be frustrated about. I’ve been talking to other Asian-American friends who experience similar anxieties and frustrations, as well as Black American friends who have reached out to check in on me. I think a common frustration centers on the repetitive conversations of racism and misogyny. And again, we are seeing folks (1) doubling down on their racism, (2) denouncing the murders but not recognizing it as connected to a series of events related to a history of racism, and (3) (our white allies) not really understanding how these events affect us as individuals of marginalized communities.

Also, part of this conversation is the stereotype “model minority” and why it is (and always has been) problematic. It is the ultimate backhanded compliment and micro-aggression that sustains white supremacy. First, it erases any sort of nuance among Asian-Americans, a vastly diverse population of the US. In this diverse population, it also erases the socioeconomic nuance/disparities that exists among Asian-Americans. Second, it creates a divide among marginalized communities that results in these communities pitting against each other. Lastly, it creates this mythical status predicated on being White adjacent (which further pits Asian-Americans against other marginalized communities).

So what can I do? Or, what can we do right now? I think starting off with our friends and families is a good first step. I reached out to my parents during Easter to talk with them. I want to not only make sure they are safe, but that they feel safe as well. I have also reached out to other Asian-American friends (and have been reached out to). During these conversations we shared resources to help channel our frustrations and anxieties into productive conversations. The next step could be reaching out in our communities. If teaching a class, I think it helps to acknowledge that students may be experiencing similar anxieties and frustrations. And I think it’s appropriate to direct them to available resources. It’s important in academia to be cognizant of our mental health because it affects our relationship with others, the quality of our work, and our overall well-being.

Explaining “contradictory” identities, joining the military, a sense of service, and military benefits

Last week while reviewing some of my dissertation data with the research assistants, we dove into some contradictory remarks.

My data consist of interviews, or “semi-structured conversations,” with veterans at a university during their first semester as undergraduates. During these conversations, I have a set of questions that guide my question-asking. I like this method because it seems to relax the participants. Although since this is all done via zoom, I’m not sure yet if that’s still true. When face-to-face, I’ve noticed only once that a participant oriented towards the recording device (i.e they looked at it while talking to me). If this sounds interesting, I’d check out my advisor’s work on the observer’s paradox.

Anyway, in my data, I talk with each of my participants about their decision to join the military. One participant first described their hometown of blue-collar workers (many who joined the military), and that they felt the collective call of 9/11. Later on in the same interview, while explaining their interest in sports and working out, they prefaced how they played sports throughout high school. And, that they had hoped to go to college and continue playing sports. However, one summer they experienced an injury that prevented that dream. They then explained joining the military as an opportunity. This “opportunity” aligns with my other participants’ explanations for joining the military. They saw the benefits (e.g. paying for school, career, work experience) of joining the military. This also parallels Martinez and Huerta’s (2020) findings in their study about Chicano/Latino males who enlist in the military. They found, among their participants, that joining the military was a pathway to upward social mobility and a career.

What I find interesting about this is the way the participants talk about their reasons for joining the military. It’s transactional. This contrasts with the 9/11 collective call narrative that is in the beginning of my participant’s interview, and contrasts with the narrative I hear so often by folks who joined when I did – around 9/11.

But how do I explain this? I don’t. I think identities are complex and how they emerge in interaction is complex (and messy at times). As a researcher, I think of my role is observing and describing what is going on. If there are contradictory and paradoxical behaviors manifested in the language, then I say “oh that’s interesting” .. and think about it more. What I think is happening is that the participant is drawing on sociably recognizable discourses – the collective call to service that was invoked by President Bush during 9/11 (See Podvornaia, 2013) and the military as a bunch of benefits (this is the stuff that recruiters talk about). All of which they are using to construct their identity.

What I think is interesting and will explore further is the development of a sense of service in my data. Each one of my participants talk about being proud of their service and how they want to continue doing something that benefits people around them.

Martinez Jr, E., & Huerta, A. H. (2020). Deferred enrollment: Chicano/Latino males, social mobility and military enlistment. Education and Urban Society, 52(1), 117–142.

Podvornaia, A. (2013). The discursive battlefield of the “War on Terror.” In A. Hodges (Ed.), Discourses of war and peace (pp. 69–91). Oxford University Press.

Queering leadership: leadership narratives as stories of self-commodification

Recently, I was invited to contribute my research about how Naval Officers who identify as lesbian, gay, bisexual, and/or transgender talk about their leadership performance through “sea-stories.” The book, which centers on Queer Linguistics as an approach, really forced me to re-examine my analysis through a Queer Theory and Queer Linguistics lens.

The chapter will draw on data from my master’s thesis which takes a social constructionist stance towards how identity is constructed. For my thesis, I interviewed 14 Naval Officers. Six identified as cis gender men, five identified as cis gender women, one identified as a trans man, and one identified as a transwoman. Of the seven total men, three identified as straight, two as bi, and two as gay. Of the five total woman, two identified as straight and three identified as lesbians.

In each of their interviews, each participant had a “sea-story” to tell. A sea-story is a common term in the Navy used to describe some interesting story that occurred while at sea. These sea-stories in particular were elicited, meaning I asked for a specific story. And in each story, the participants talk about standing watch as Officer of the Deck (OOD). While standing OOD, the Naval Officer is pretty much in charge of all operations occurring on the ship. They’re also in charge of navigating where the ship goes. In these sea-stories, the participants shared a story where they talked about a challenging experience while standing OOD. One participant talked about transiting the Straits of Malacca and experiencing a near collision, another participant described conflict between her and another officer while launching and landing helicopters on the flight deck, and one officer described a man-overboard. So what I was interested in examining here is how each participant talked themselves into “being” a leader in these stories.

While writing my master’s thesis I thought it was a first step towards examining how people who identify as queer do leadership. To my knowledge, it is and was the first of its kind.

As so as I mentioned above, I am excited to re-examine my data from a Queer Linguistics perspective and question “what is masculinity” in the context of the military. And I think more exciting – “what is heterosexuality” in the military? What’s fascinating to me about Queer Theory and Queer Linguistics is that even though I’ve always thought that individuals can express sexuality in different ways, I never actually thought about heterosexuality in this way.

So from this perspective, even individuals who identify as heterosexual (and cis gender) are performing a specific type of heterosexuality and masculinity. So quite literally, in the words or Ru Paul, we’re all born naked and the rest is drag.

When the communicative style misrepresents the message

In a truly diverse workplace that “embraces” inclusion, are we actually communicating effectively with our diverse audiences?

This week I attended the Washington DC Student Veterans of America (SVA) Summit because I recently joined (was hired by) the Georgetown University Veterans Office team as the graduate assistant. While I don’t play a leadership role in the Georgetown University Student Veteran’s Association (GUSVA), I want to be cognizant of the needs of other student veterans and service-connected students in order to better do my job. In the Veterans Office, we serve as a resource for prospective service-connected students who need help navigating the academic landscape as well as their VA education benefits. Additionally, we guide those students to various veteran-tailored resources (such as mental health, professional development, etc) on campus.

Within the veteran community, and especially in veteran spaces, I want to advocate for better diversity and inclusion (D and I) practices. Simply creating a “veteran space” and expecting veterans to come is ineffective at reaching all veterans even if the veteran space is accepting of all identities. While at the SVA summit, I spoke with a few participants about being accepting of all genders, all sexualities, and all individuals. However, the delivery of their message often conflicted with the actual message.

Judith Baxter (2010) identified a similar phenomenon in her data when she interviewed male CEOs from what she calls “gender-multiple corporations”. These corporations demonstrate a fluidity in gender roles as “boundaries between ‘male’ and ‘female’, ‘masculine’ and ‘feminine’ have thus become more permeable” (p. 77) When the CEOs were asked to provide narratives (in an interview), the CEOs acknowledged the need for a relationally-oriented communicative/leadership style. However, they “were often quite unaware that they offered more traditionally masculine speaker identities in their narratives” (p. 92).

While speaking with one of the SVA participants about his leadership style at work, he said (paraphrased), “I don’t care if you’re a man, a woman, gay or lesbian, or transgender, as long as you do your job. If I have a problem with you, I am not going to dance around. I’m going to be direct and tell you”. Similar to Baxter’s observations, this participant demonstrated a “traditionally masculine speaker identity” characterized by assertiveness, directness, and confrontation. While I don’t question the veracity of his acceptance of diverse individuals – I think he could benefit from understanding his communicative behavior could possibly undermine his intentions.

Additionally, a reality of the “veteran identity” is that many people who had a tough time during their service may not want to identify as a veteran because it conflicts with their various other identities (gender, sexuality, etc). When I served during DADT, my military identity conflicted with my identity as a gay man. For women in the service, sometimes putting on the uniform is the only way to identify them as a service-member which conflicts with being “on duty 24/7”. So, if we want to create a truly inclusive environment of different diversities, we should be cognizant (linguistically aware) of our communicative behaviors and ensure they align with the desired audiences expectations.

Baxter, Judith. (2010). The language of female leadership. New York, NY: Palgrave McMillan.

The transition from civilian to service member to civilian: the complexities of veteran identity

It occurred to me when I came across the comprehensive review by Borsari et al. (2017) that much of the research guiding existing programs to help veterans, ranging from mental health to acculturation within academic environments, begins with the transition and not before the transition and certainly not before the veteran’s military service. However, they all arrive at the same conclusion, that veterans need help managing and negotiating the change in identity from service member to civilian.

Before beginning a discussion on identity, I should define how I see and understand “identity” in a linguistics framework. Identity is not static. It is something managed and negotiated constantly. An individual can also have many identities which become relevant in different contexts. For example, a sailor at home can be “mom” or “dad” but at work they are “OS2” or “Chief”. Further, individuals have a repertoire of identities that they can perform. The sailor at home does “being mom” when she talks to her partner or child. She does “being Chief” when she corrects her DIVO and tells her sailors what to do. Ochs (1993) describes these as “social identities” and “social acts”. In order to display certain social identities, one performs certain social acts.

Of course, certain social identities are more significant than others and some social identities also intersect and affect each other. When “being Chief” requires the sailor to remain at sea for a 9-month deployment, she can’t do “being mom” for 9 months. These social identities are further complicated when they’re reenforced by institutional structures such as a difference in BAH predicated on the existence of dependents. Thus, “being Chief” for 9 months is compensated with economic advantages.

So what happens when a transition takes away one of these social identities? The short and unhelpful answer is, “it’s complicated”. However, I believe we can chip away at this complexity by investigating the development of certain social identities by looking at first the transition from civilian to sailor. In so doing, perhaps we can investigate how training for a rate or MOS in service leaves our service members at a disadvantage when they choose to separate.

Borsari, B., Yurasek, Mary Beth Miller, Ali M. Yurasek, and James G. Murphy. (2017). Student service members/veterans on campus: Challenges for reintegration. American Journal of Orthopsychiatry, 87(2), 166–175.

Ochs, Elinor. (1993). Constructing social identity: A language socialization perspective. Research on language and social interaction. 26(3). 287-306.

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