Category: Uncategorized

Posted on

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.

Posted on

Queering the military: Doing “being a heterosexual” during Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell

This post was originally published on the Linguistic Society of America’s COZIL ( Committee on LGBTQ+ [Z]) blog for Pride Month 2021.

This year, service members in the United States Armed Forces celebrate the 10-year anniversary of the implementation of the Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell (DADT) repeal act of 2010, the discriminatory policy that prohibited lesbian, gay, and bisexual service members from serving openly.

When I applied to the U.S. Naval Academy, I did not know (and could not have known) what I was getting into. I knew I was gay. However, I did not know how doing “being gay” could lead me to getting kicked out or discharged from the Navy. And, apparently among the endless paperwork, I signed a form (USMEPCOM FORM 601-23-4-E 1, FEB 1998) agreeing that I did not have a “propensity or intent to engage in homosexual acts” or to marry “a person known to be of the same biological sex.” Today, I still wonder how I could have known what being gay meant as a 17-year-old graduating from high school, and how I would have to perform “being a heterosexual” under DADT.

It was 2002 when I joined the Navy, and DADT was still the law. While policies affecting LGBT service members have changed, the U.S. military is still very much a masculine gendered institution and arguably the arbiter of American masculinity (Disler, 2008). Historically, the ranks of the U.S. military have consisted of “able-bodied” (10 U.S. Code § 505) men; and social practices and cultures continue to systematically exclude women as well as individuals who identify as LGBT from serving. However, the U.S. military is still one of the most diverse institutions and workplaces in the U.S., with 1.3 million active-duty service members (Kamarck, 2019). Of these, an estimated 6%, or 78,000, identify as either gay, lesbian, or bisexual, and 0.6%, or 7800, identify as transgender (Meadows et al., 2015).

It might not be a surprise that the military conflates the experiences of all those who identify as LGBT. However, I want to briefly disentangle their histories in the military. For LGB service members, the U.S. military began actively discriminating against them during WWII when homosexuality was pathologized as a mental illness (see Berube, [2010]). During the gay rights movement of the 1970s, activists brought attention to supporting LGB service members (Hall, 2010). However, the U.S. Department of Defense came down with a heavy hand in 1982, declaring that homosexuality was “incompatible with military service” (DOD Directive 1332.14, January 28, 1982, Part 1, Section H). A “compromise” was met in 1993 when President Clinton enacted DADT. This meant that LGB service members could serve, just not openly. Then, in 2010, President Obama repealed DADT, allowing LGB service members to finally serve as their true selves.

For our transgender brothers, sisters, and siblings in arms, much of their history has been ignored or erased under the LGBT umbrella. While women were known to disguise themselves as men to serve in the military since the American Revolution, transgender service members were actively discriminated against alongside LGB service members. Then, in 2014, Attorney General Eric Holder extended gender identity protection under TITLE VII of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 to include transgender statuses. However, while this did apply to DoD civilians, it did not apply to service members (Kamarck, 2019). In 2015, Secretary of Defense Ashton Carter, under the Obama administration, announced that transgender service members can serve openly. This was short lived, as President Trump reversed the decision and prohibited transgender individuals from joining and serving in the military. Trump’s trans ban was then overturned by President Biden in 2021.

When I joined the Navy during DADT, I did not know the consequences of what Rich (1980) calls compulsory heterosexuality. Like the other 1.3 million service members, I swore an oath to defend the constitution (and also claimed to be straight). For example, when I was a plebe (1st year student/midshipman at the Naval Academy), I was told to bring a (female) date to lunch. As midshipmen, we ate breakfast and lunch with our squads. Our squads were led by squad leaders (4th year students/midshipmen) who were also responsible for training us as plebes. One day, my squad leader told me I had to bring a date to lunch. So that morning, I asked a female midshipman if she would join me for lunch. Doing so also required me to “request permission” from the female midshipman’s squad leader, thereby forcing me to perform “being heterosexual” by participating in heterosexual courtship, or what Eckert (2000) calls the heterosexual marketplace.

Let’s not ignore how problematic this was for the female midshipman. From her perspective, we can see clearly how compulsory heterosexuality ingrained in the masculine gendered military has misogynistic implications on her military identity. By being asked to join me for lunch, she performed “being a commodity” or object of desire, thereby reducing/erasing her identity as a midshipman. Further, her agency as a woman and individual was diminished by drawing on patriarchal requirements (a man asking her squad leader for permission to bring her as his date).

I have to note – the woman I asked was and is a friend. At the time, she did not know I was gay. However, we both understood these rituals were “normal” and on some level a form of hazing. We could have easily said no. But, by not participating in these rituals, our student rankings would suffer given that upper-level students ranked everyone below them. These student rankings then contributed to our overall order of merit which informed what jobs in the Navy/Marine Corps we would hold after graduation/commissioning.

As I recall this one instance of compulsory heterosexuality (there are many), I am relieved to know that midshipmen at the Naval Academy (and service members writ large) are in a better place. However, policy changes do not equate to changes in social and cultural practices. The U.S. military is still a masculine gendered institution and compulsory heterosexuality still exists. Today, I might have had the option to bring a male midshipman to lunch – however it would still entail the same ritual of heteronormative courtship. Another example: while the term “military wife’ has been replaced with “military spouse,” it still draws on the same heterosexual and patriarchal construct. All spouses are still assumed under the umbrella term “military dependents.” This umbrella term also includes children of service members. In this way, the term “military spouse” still draws on the patriarchal construct where the service member (usually a heterosexual man) is the protector, or “breadwinner,” of the family. And so, these are just two examples where, from a queer theory and queer linguistics lens (Motschenbacher & Stegu, 2013), we can examine not only how LGBT service members “do” (military) heterosexuality, but also how straight-identifying individuals do a heterosexuality that might not be their own.

Returning to my question in the first paragraph – how could I have known the implications of being gay in the military during DADT? I still don’t know. However, I do know why I joined the military. I grew up in a military family. My dad served in the Army and I saw the opportunities it afforded him as a Filipino immigrant. And then September 11th happened when I was a junior in high school, and I followed the “call to serve.” For other service members, reasons may also include occupational benefits such as opportunities to travel, access to educational and healthcare benefits, as well as job stability (Helmus et al., 2018). Today, my military experience informs my research and my desire to continue serving in some capacity. I envision my new capacity for service as I conduct research surrounding queering military discourse and deconstructing (toxic) masculinities and heteronormativity seen in the military, aiming to make it a safer place for everyone to serve as their true selves.

To read more about LGBTQ+ linguistics from LGBTQ+ linguists, check out all of the COZIL Blog posts here.

References

Bérubé, A. (2010). Coming out under fire: The history of gay men and women in World War II. Univ of North Carolina Press.

Disler, E. (2008). Language and gender in the military: Honorifics, narrative, and ideology in Air Force talk. Cambria Press.

Eckert, P. (2000). Linguistic variation as social practice: The linguistic construction of identity in Belten High. Blackwell Pub.

Hall, S. (2010). The American gay rights movement and patriotic protest. Journal of the History of Sexuality, 19(3), 536–562.

Helmus, T. C., Zimmerman, S. R., Posard, M. N., Wheeler, J. L., Ogletree, C., Stroud, Q., & Harrell, M. C. (2018). Life as a private: A study of the motivations and experiences of junior enlisted personnel in the US Army (RR-2252-A; Research Reports). Rand Corporation. https://www.rand.org/pubs/research_reports/RR2252.html

Kamarck, K. (2019). Diversity, inclusion, and equal opportunity in the Armed Services: Background and issues for Congress (No. R44321). Congressional Research Service. https://crsreport.congress.gov

Meadows, S. O., Engel, C. C., Collins, R. L., Beckman, R. L., Cefalu, M., Hawes-Dawson, J., Waymouth, M., Kress, A. M., Sontag-Padilla, L., Ramchand, R., & et al. (2015). 2015 Health related behaviors survey: Sexual orientation, transgender identity, and health among U.S. active-duty service members (RB-9955/6-OSD; Research Briefs). RAND Corporation.

Motschenbacher, H., & Stegu, M. (2013). Queer Linguistic approaches to discourse. Discourse & Society, 24(5), 519–535.

Rich, A. (1980). Compulsory heterosexuality and lesbian existence. Signs: Journal of Women in Culture and Society, 5(4), 631–660.

Posted on

Create (your own) back up (and check your Document System) in MAXQDA!

My dissertation project has seven participants who I interviewed three times over the course of their first semester. I then transcribed each interview during the same semester to start my analysis mid-January. (It’s going ok, not as fast as I’d like it to). To facilitate my analysis, I am using MAXQDA. It’s been really helpful for organizing my data into “categories” and then coding it for specific themes. To help conceptualize this process, I recommend checking out Johnny Saldaña’s book The Coding Manual for Qualitative Researchers.

So in MAXQDA, the project itself creates back up files automatically. You can set this up for everyday or every 12 days. I do every day and I’m glad. The program also automatically saves your project because it’s a database program. It’s like working on a google doc. It just saves your file automatically.

This morning (however) as I’m coding a transcript, I notice one of my participant’s files has zero coded segments. I then went back ~3 weeks to a (automatic back up) and found the coded transcript. I also opened the back up I created yesterday but the transcript wasn’t coded.

So you’re probably wondering why I would title this post “Create (your own back up).” I still think it’s important but what I should have done was checked my document system that all my transcripts had codes in them before creating my own back up. Because I had to go back nearly 3 weeks to find the project with the transcript coded means I didn’t notice it for some time.

To resolve this issue, I opened up the older back up and exported the transcript with the coded segments as if I were a team member working separately. I then imported the transcript with all the codes into my current project file.

If you’re unfamiliar with MAXQDA I created this working document to teach my research assistants how to use the program.

Posted on

The Lived Experiences of Transgender Service Members and Veterans

This past week I saw my research manifest into a panel discussion with three women who served in the U.S. military and identify as transgender.

As the president of GradPride, Georgetown University’s queer affinity group, my goal for this past semester was to “queer” veteran spaces and to elevate awareness of the transgender community, specifically those who have served in the military. Our community at Georgetown consists of ~1400 military-connected students, most of which are veterans. And, unsurprisingly, we (veterans) continue some of the hyper-masculine behaviors from the military that reject those who exist outside military-masculinit(ies). As someone who identifies as a gay man, I was often the recipient of verbal homophobic harassment because I wasn’t ascribed any forms of military masculinity.

With my experience in mind, and with this new role as GradPride president, I wanted to define the direction this year of GradPride within the intersection of queer identity and veteran/military identity. Further, given the recent changes in policy, I wanted to contribute to the dispelling of misinformation regarding the discriminatory policy construed as a medical disqualification by providing a stage for transgender veterans and service members to educate the Georgetown community.

We titled the event the Lived experiences of transgender service members and veterans because wanted to emphasize their journey from coming out to advocating for equal rights for other trans individuals. Through their narratives, they not only told us what they were doing, they showed us how they were doing it.

In total, we had over 70 folx in the audience which included 17 midshipmen from the U.S. Naval Academy.

To my left (I’m in the pink) tie is Karen Kendra Holmes, and to my right is Paula Neira and Charlotte Clymer. Also here are midshipmen from the U.S. Naval Academy with three officer reps (far left).
Posted on

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.

css.php