A tough transition from combat to classrooms

One morning, my commander called me into his office.  I nervously reported in and he began breaking the news to me.

“Well, Corporal Haney, I have some good and bad news for you. The bad news is that you will be leaving Fort Stewart, [Ga.]” My Heart dropped as I waited for him to continue.

“The good news is that you won’t be going to Korea. You got the Green to Gold Scholarship and are headed to the corn state.”

I had waited to hear those words for a year and a half, and when he told me I got the scholarship I almost lost all military bearing. In my head, I was doing summersaults and I could see fireworks, but I just stood there.

I respond with a brief “Hooah” did an about face and marched out of the office filled with so much joy it was almost over flowing. “Thank you God!” I prayed over and over again, but after an hour of my joy reality sat in.

I began asking myself if I was really prepared to go to college. I hadn’t been in school for six years and in the past five I had been given so much direction I wasn’t sure what it would look like without it.

The first thing I had to struggle with wasn’t classes. It is hard coming back from being deployed in Afghanistan for sixteen months and losing two friends.

No one truly knows what you have been through and I personally didn’t feel the need to share. I suffered silently as I sat in one of my first classes, African American Pop Music History.  It was a riveting class, but the guy next to me started to fall asleep in the front row.

Did this guy have a sleeping disorder? I tried to ignore it and focus on the class, but something about him falling asleep bothered me. Over the next several weeks I began to get to know him better. He was on the track team and receiving a scholarship to go to school.

I asked myself if my friends were fighting overseas and dying so that scholarship recipients could fall asleep in class. and why bother fighting if no one even appreciates all that we have?

I started to take it personally and then seven weeks into class I lost two more friends on a deployment I would have been on if I wasn’t going to school.

I tried to pretend like I was ok, but there were times I went into the bathroom crying and praying for the wives and families left behind. I would start to do homework and my mind would wander to another place.

I would see all the memories and pain I left behind in Afghanistan.

After I got back from the funeral, I went back to class and started my routine again. This time the track guy actually stayed awake for class and I couldn’t blame my anger on him anymore. I wanted to tell him thank you, but I don’t know if he would really understand.

He had made me realize that I had a lot to deal with on my own about the things I had been through. I focused on cleaning out the anger and pain in myself I started to see people in a different light. It was easier to listen to the other students and not judge them because they hadn’t served their country.

Though I was finally dealing with all my pain the world around me started to crumble. I didn’t have the Army to tell me what I was going to be doing or how I would be doing. I started to lose track of my school work and realized I didn’t really have any good study skills.

How do I balance my life, school, and ROTC? It changes daily; I was almost left feeling empty without my battle buddies and the structure of the Army.

I am still trying to figure everything out, but I’m grateful for the students, faculty, and community members in Chadron  who supported me and helped me cope with the stress; I wouldn’t be graduating next May without them.