Featured Veteran Artist: Dave Landymore

I am honored to feature veteran Dave Landymore this week, a veteran leader and activist with The 6th Branch . His story highlights the principles of servant leadership and what artistry in your life looks like. His story emphasizes how he was able to transition by finding himself through serving others, pointing out that sometimes focusing on something bigger than yourself, can bring you home. Thank you, Dave, for letting me share your story, your work with the 6th Branch is incredible and it calls us all back to a sense of duty, pride and service. Please check out
The 6th Branch and the work being done in this amazing organization.

My Journey of Service
by Dave Landymore
Taken from The 6th Branch Blog

I enlisted in the US military out of high school for just one reason; I wanted to serve. I wasn’t particularly drawn to the flashy uniforms, or the promise of travel to far-away lands, or money for college. Not to say that those things didn’t sweeten the deal, but the initial motivation was a simple sense of service.The only real notion of military service that I had growing up came from two cousins who had both enlisted in the Marine Corps, but that didn’t really appeal to me. All I had heard about the Marines was that they brain-washed everyone in boot camp and turned them into robots. Of course I learned a little more over the next year or so and wound up joining the Marine Corps, and of course the Marine Corps satisfied that sense of service over the next five years.

When I left active duty in 2006, I moved back home and started going to school full time at the local community college. It didn’t take long to feel like something was missing, however. That need to serve, to be useful, remained, and for the first time in a while I found myself without an outlet for it. So I had to go looking. Having grown up near Annapolis, I was naturally very fond of the Bay and was aware that it was in fairly bad health. So it became my duty to do what I could to help, and I began volunteering at the Chesapeake Bay Foundation’s Oyster Restoration Center in southern Maryland. We created hundreds of artificial oyster reefs out of concrete, which we dropped into certain tributaries in strategic locations that had shown to be conducive to growing oysters. The oysters were thenplanted among these concrete habitats, which deterred predators and allowed the oysters to grow and propagate. It was all very rewarding work; I’ve always enjoyed physical labor, and it was important: The Chesapeake Bay needed more oysters in order to recover to good health, and I was adding oysters to the Chesapeake Bay.

The Oyster Restoration Center was, however, a seasonal thing, so during the winter I had to find another activity to placate myself. This I found at the Annapolis Lighthouse Shelter, working once, sometimes twice a week in the back, organizing the shelves full of non-perishable food donations that came in. Once everything became organized, food was then separated into grocery bags for the less fortunate to pick up and take home with them and stock their own shelves. This was also very rewarding work. Every day when I would leave at the end of the shift the shelves would be full of these grocery bags, and every time I came back they’d be empty, and I knew that all that food had gone to someone that needed it.

In January 2011 I transferred from Anne Arundel Community College to UMBC to study Environmental Science, and subsequently moved from Annapolis to Baltimore. Again at UMBC I sought out volunteer opportunities and was fortunate enough to be quickly linked in to the Shriver Center, an office founded by Sargent and Eunice Shriver with the mission of promoting “the integration of civic engagement, teaching, learning, and discovery on campus, regionally, and nationally so that each advances the others for the benefit of society.”

After serving during my first semester as a volunteer with the Refugee Youth Project, an after-school tutoring program for youth whose families had resettled in Baltimore City, I became the Service-Learning intern for the Shriver Center’s Choice Program – College Night. Choice is a youth and family empowerment program that serves at-risk youth who have been recommended by the Department of Juvenile Services. It is an intense advocacy program that aims to enrich the lives of the youth and prevent recidivism. One aspect of the Choice Program is College Night, which is a weekly after-school program that I run in which a group of student volunteers and I supervise educational and recreational activities for these youth. We’re able to reinforce the concepts that the youth learn in school, and at the same time serve as positive role models for them and push them towards the realization that, yes, they are capable of escaping their circumstances and yes, they, too, can make it to college, and succeed.

It was at the beginning of the Fall ’11 semester that a Service-Learning Coordinator at the Shriver Center turned me on to The 6th Branch. She knew that I was a veteran, and was aware of the organization through conversations that she had had with Jeremy Johnson, our Director of Public Relations. She told me some of what she knew about the The 6th Branch and Operation: Oliver, which was then in its infancy. I found the website that night and immediately e-mailed Executive Director Rich Blake to see how I could get involved. A few days later he and I met at the Americana and the rest, for me, is history.

Finding The 6th Branch and being a leader in Operation Oliver has been life-changing. I’m fairly certain that I’ve finally arrived at the end of my “journey.” Now it’s just a matter of doing it. I’ve found a new opportunity to serve. I’ve got a new mission, and it’s one of the most important yet. All together we’re going to accomplish it.

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Featured Artist Stephanie Workman

 

I am honored to feature Stephanie Workman’s photography on this site.  An amazing woman, artist and advocate  her dedication and work  has a huge impact  so many in the veteran community.  I am delighted to share her site and her work. Please take a moment to read her bio, Stephanie is truly an inspiration to me.

Stephanie Workman began her journey with Family Of a Vet, Inc in 2008, when she found them in her desperate search for understanding in a world riddled with combat PTSD. Her then-husband had been in Iraq in 2003 during the Battle for Baghdad and his struggle with combat PTSD & TBI was, up to then, an unknown condition. Finding the resources at Family Of a Vet, Inc would prove to be a pivotal moment in Stephanie’s life.

Stephanie was born and raised in Topeka, Kansas and the oldest of six children. From a very young age, she was very aware of her father’s service in the Air Force during the Vietnam War and that awareness developed into a deep respect for all those who have served in our Armed Forces. Childhood was difficult, however, as her father also suffered from combat PTSD but it went undiagnosed. The experiences with her family developed a strong foundation of service and advocacy in her life.

In 1997, Stephanie graduated with a Bachelor of Science degree in Park Resource Management from Kansas State University and went on to work in various Environmental Education positions. In 1999, she met a Fort Riley soldier and they were married in 2000. Her husband began his service with the US Army in 1993 served with the 1st Armored Division in Iraq in 2003. Soon after, he left the military and went on to a career in cellular telecommunications.

Currently, Stephanie is the primary caregiver for her three children and also advocates for the needs of our veterans as the Social Media Coordinator for Family Of a Vet, Inc. Stephanie also advocates for combat veterans and their spouses who are facing a separation and/or divorce, utilizing her divorce as a way to counsel couples and direct them to a variety of resources available to them.

Her site is http://pinterest.com/worky/worky-s-lens/

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Featured Veteran Artist: Kateri Peterson

I am honored to feature Kateri Peterson, an advocate with Family of a Vet, familyofavet.com.  I found her post and was immediately moved.  Her writing is intense and from the soul.  Its delievered in a way that makes it universal and available for the reader.  This post is on the emotion anger and the ways it manifests, after reading it; I felt like someone gave me permission to be angry-I felt the sense of camaraderie.   I truly appreciate her bravery, and how she exposes her vulnerability to find healing and relief.  I admire the way she is willing to share her story without censoring it for us, the auidence.  Thank you Kateri, I hope to feature you again!!

Angry Chair

By Kateri Peterson

http://damespaz.blogspot.com/2011/12/angry-chair.html

Its true. I’m angry.  I am so completely pissed off at the world that I can
hardly contain it.  My husband has to go to treatment for his ptsd and tbi.
Thats not the problem. The problem is, we are a month out from him going, and he
is in this self fulfilling prophecy mode where he has completely checked out.
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Chemotherapy

I wanted to showcase what a blog entry became. This poem was several revisions from a first ramblings about my experience with chemo. I am excited for people to see what revision does for your work. I am sure I still have more tightening to do on this poem but its already come a long way!!

Chemotherapy

The sights, sounds and smells
continually plague me.
The machines with their IV’s

invite- me into your treatment
With their steady,
Drip, drip, drip…….

Beating to the rhythm of my heart
Becoming the lonesome ballad,
Intruder the Caregiver’s Song

There are ghosts here and
You dear, have become one of them.
I watch you resting in your hospital chair,

The nurse comes in
And you reach out your arm,
Both of you make small talk,

While all I can hear is the
Drip, drip, drip….
Of the machine

The nurse inspects your arm
Seeing which vein he will take
Sharpness, slight sting,

The needle starting the cycle again.
And then it comes, washing over me
I am greeted by

The stench of death and flesh,
Latex, chemicals, sickness
And your illness. I want to vomit.

I look over at you.
Your color, is tinged with yellow;
And reminds me of a stain on dirty bed sheets.

You look unfamiliar.
I steady myself, and breath in.
I look around grasping for familiarity but all I see

Are rows of perfectly shaped heads
Framing what is known as oncology.
All of them bald.

White, pale white, doughy white and
offset by sunken eyes, red rimmed,
Colored by the chemicals from the machines

Drip, drip, drip….
I wish I were braver.
I want to run away but I can’t leave you here.

You and the nurse
Shot the shit, as he
Administers the poison, they say is saving you.

I admire your strength and patience as
I tap my foot and notice
Its beating to the drip, drip, drip

Of the machine.
Hours have gone by and I know your treatment is almost over.
As you have grown tired now,

Wrappers of candy strewn around your chair,
Pale face, you whisper something to me that is inaudible
And I pretend to know what you say.

I am handed your check -out form.
I get a tiny card, confirmation we will be
Doing this again, unfortunately, too soon.

Drip, drip, drip…. We leave.
Tick, tick, tick
Time has a new sense of direction

You seem tiny now, a shell of the man I brought in
Me and you we make our escape.
We will meet here again

In two weeks. In our stench.
our unmistakable vulnerabilities,
in our naked realities,

We will hear again-the drip, drip, drip—drumming the pain further in.
We will meet here again,
Same place, we will fall silent

Unable to communicate
the differences this makes in our relationship
And I will add another verse to my song.

It is excruciating. I have never gotten use to it. Not the sight, smells or sounds. The machine and it’s steady, in and out and drip, drip, drip. It beats with my heart but my heart wants to stop beating. I take it in, I breathe it out. I want to vomit.

Everyone looks the same here. Everyone looks like death. I am not being hateful, but it’s true. Everyone is pale with a tinge of yellow, well; the exception being some have a green tint which haunts me more.

Nobody has hair. The eyes are red and sunken. Everyone looks uniform. There is no gender, there is no description, except they all have cancer.

There is no avoiding the aversion to the smell. The stench greets you and it’s a mix of illness, latex, newness and poison. Sometimes there is the hint of food and that is when my stomach, flips over and over; backwards forwards–flips. It continues to flip.

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Featured Veteran Artist : P.W. Covington

I would like to take the opportunity to highlight veteran artist, P.W. Covington. He is the author of Like the Prayers of an Infidel…: One American Airman’s Experience Service, War, and Return  and Vet to Vet: An Examination of PTSD Through Writing  .  P.W. uses his own story to advocate for others and continue the dialogue on PTSD.

It is my pleasure to feature his bio on my page.  As well as tell you both books can be purchased on Amazon http://www.amazon.com/P.-W.-Covington/e/B004BNSOLY/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1322759186&sr=8-1 Continue reading

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