Just last week, I returned from one of the toughest and most traumatic experiences of my life. While I was at the United States Naval Academy, attending their exclusive Summer Seminar, and living alongside other elite high-school candidates from across the country, the majority of the time all I wanted to do was go home. Granted, I was much closer to home than many of my fellow candidates to begin with. I called my mom, and after a tear-filled phone conversation, I could have easily cut the cord on that adventure, packed my bags, and headed up 95 North. But for some reason, I also didn't want to be done with NASS. I didn't want to leave my new friends, and I wanted to prove that I could make it through the grueling six days. But even more than proving that I could do it, I wanted to make it through the next six days. And I did. And luckily, the experience ultimately reinforced that my original reasons for registering for the Summer Seminar, and for taking an interest in The Academy, were valid. I had gotten so many eye rolls, and questioning glances upon mentioning my interest in the Academy. So many "why do you want to go there?"s. I felt doubtful, but the NASS reaffirmed my original reasons for taking an interest in the Navy.
My six days in Annapolis were by no means easy, and it didn't help that many of my peers seemed to find it exactly that; easy. (It's like getting a C on a test, which may be a great Chemistry grade for you, but then having some of your closest friends milling around complaining about their 92s. Although that does happen to me pretty frequently, so maybe should be used to it.) The mission of the USNA is "to develop midshipmen morally, mentally, and physically, and to imbue them with the highest ideals of duty, honor, and loyalty in order to graduate leaders who are dedicated to a career of naval service and have potential for future development in mind and character to assume the highest responsibilities of command, citizenship, and government." (Don't quote me on that; it's from memory.) One week there did just that. With a broken toe, anxiety problems, and cramps, the 8 hour sea trials were like nothing I had ever tried to do before. So why did a white girl from an upper-middle class suburban family, who attends one of the nation's top college preparatory schools, consider putting herself through this? More importantly, why did a girl with absolutely no upper-body strength, consider putting herself through this? The answer can be found in the mission statement, and the 5th Law of the Navy, and Article VI of United States Military Code that we had to memorize over the course of our week at Annapolis. The United States Naval Academy, at least in my opinion, more holistically represents honor, integrity, loyalty, duty, friendship, comradeship, and love, and fosters these ideas more effectively, than does any other service academy, educational institution, government building, or street corner in the world. This is not to say that the USNA is the only institution that demands these values and principles, or that the USNA is, in fact, the best or only place where one can undergo immense personal growth, or experience these concepts in their truest forms. Sure, there are so many places like this. I have taken note of many of them, whether they be little-known restaurants that are locals' favorites, community swimming pools, the Olympic Games, or a government. Nevertheless, I will take the Navy's advice and never give up the ship. I will also never give up my personal opinion that the United States Naval Academy is the primary definition of those values.
At the Naval Academy, officers and teachers, superiors and peers, preach the concept that is the collective, not the individual, that is, in the end, both the prize of freedom and the key to victory. All my life, I have wanted to take part in something bigger than myself, something massive, something incredible. Something I couldn't control. Being part of the Brigade provides this opportunity. It allows you to become a physically fit, elite, highly educated individual, but more so, it demands that you lose part of your individuality and meld with your fellow midshipmen into one physically fit, elite, highly educated team, dedicated to defending the United States's greatest principles, and motivated to be the best. I have always wanted to be part of a group, a piece of the puzzle that fits seamlessly with others as it is nestled into position. In the Navy and the USMC, not only are you part of such a cohesive unit, but you have no choice but to be part of one. Beginning with the Summer Seminar, and continuing through Plebe Year, your four Ac-Years, and your summers at the Academy, you are continually thrust into situations that require you to work with your squad, platoon, company, and brigade-mates. These situations require you to trust these people, to care about these people, to love these people, and to act as if each of them is really you. This is such an incredible concept to me, and so intangible, that I have trouble even thinking about it. And I definitely can't possibly understand it.
You can read "Band of Brothers" and watch documentaries and movies of combat units and similar experiences until you are blue in the face, as I have done, and you will still never get it until you live it. During my week at the Academy, I got an inch of the tip of the iceberg of it, and it left me hungry for more, completely obsessed with the loyalty and comradeship that the experience fostered. Frankly, I still don't get it. I have been reading 'The Gamble,' a novel by journalist Tom Ricks about the American strategy in the Iraq War since 2006, and I think a couple of guys in there might get it. All of them actually. But in terms of all of the people in the world, very few get it, and the USNA provides an opportunity to make you someone who "gets it." I want to live alongside people like the midshipmen who guided me through my week in their home. I want to work alongside people of that moral character, that quality, that impressive nature and sense of calling that words cannot describe. I want to be one of those people, someone I can be proud of. Those who enter and successfully graduate the Academy are inarguably the most outstanding United States citizens, and extend their values and ideals to the entire world. I want to be able to depend on someone as much as I can depend on myself. I want someone I can proudly walk into battle with, someone that I know will be with me to the bitter, or glorious, end. I want unequivocal friendships built off of unconditional trust, loyalty, and love.
In addition to singularity rather than individualism, the Naval Academy promotes other values that I find incredibly important; honor and commitment to one's country, particularly the United States of America. Today, sitting in the lifeguard chair, and attempting to stay as alert as possible, I realized that lifeguarding for days on end is boring, but is also stress-inducing and taxing. You are not quite doing anything, at least nothing physical, which makes it boring, but at the same time, you are constantly scanning the pool, counting children in certain areas, making sure they come up for air, or don't jump off too close to the diving board. But as unfortunate as it may seem to be sitting in the lifeguard chair, I began to realize some other things. Like how I was sitting in a lifeguard chair, wearing the sunglasses I wanted to wear, and a bathingsuit that didn't cover me from head to toe. My face was not veiled, because I did not want it to be. Even more miraculous, the children in the water were similarly clothed, and splashed around doing whatever they pleased on a mid-June day. Not in all corners of this world are scenes like this tolerated, even possible. The kids making grabs at their parents wallets as the ice cream truck rolled on down was such a stark contrast from the way that in the Dominican, the children's bright eyes would sadly follow the flavored-ice truck as it navigated its way around a goat and then out of sight behind a corner. Those children didn't even bother to ask their parents for money, and a lot of them didn't even have parents. Prosperity.
The bathingsuits, particularly of the women, suddenly brought me to remember the images I have been watching on TV for the past week. Images of violence, and slaughter, and chaos, in Iran, where citizens continue to protest last week's announced election results. Perhaps this leap was me stereotyping Iran, and radical governments, as those who demand the veiling of women and restrict women's rights, but nevertheless, that is what I thought about. Freedom. And then it came to me. That scene witnessed from the lifeguard chair was a manifestation of all of the "principles which made my country free" (Art VI, USMC). That was what I had been learning about, reciting, trying to grasp for the past week. That scene at the pool? That is what graduates of The Academy preserve. I LOVE this country. Heck, I love President Bush just as much as I love President Obama. And THEY both love our country. The Navy is a steadfast defender, dedicated to keeping America around, and is filled with like-minded midshipmen, who also feel the utmost respect for our nation's leaders, and devotion to our country and its principles.
The Academy truly does value tradition, and memory, and legacy, perhaps more than any other school in the world. It honors those who came before you, and preserves the memory of their lives. Furthermore, it has endearing school-wide traditions, such as the Spirit Missions, or Recons, that each company goes on during the week preceding the Army-Navy game, or the unique way of passing Lefty's BBQ Sauce at the tables in Kings Hall (left hand only and to the left.) Or the way midshipmen open new jars of Skippy, by rolling the jar upside down between their palms until warm, and popping its seal by smashing the jar against their foreheads. Even the most unpleasant of traditions, like the Sea Trials, or Indoc-Night, or Drill, are traditions nonetheless. The cliche USNA tradition of graduation and the tossing of the caps cannot be forgotten, nor can the great feats accomplished by the men and women who graduated before you. Now, each incoming plebe class finds partnership through a mentoring program where the graduating class of 50 years prior sponsors the midshipmen and guides them through their time in Annapolis. Traditions like bringing the Ac-Year to a close with Herndon Monument, and hanging posters on Captains' Row before big football games. Taking MOs (moving orders) to lacrosse games, and filming spirit spots, and singing Anchors Aweigh, and doing pull-up contests. My squad leader scaling every monument and statue on campus to put covers on top of each one. Midshipmen scribbling their company number (with chalk) on every single tile in T-Square. Humiliating plebe initiation rituals. Dress-whites, and the chapel, and Princess Leias (ask about those,) Bancroft, and PEP, and morning runs. Parking for Firsties on The Yard. Because the Midshipman sense of pride is so deeply tied to all of their other values, these traditions are all the more impressive.
Finally, honor, the foundation upon which the US Military and the USNA is built, is so incredibly special, that naturally I see this institution as the best place to discuss honor openly and to immerse oneself in an educational, professional, and general culture steeped with honor. I believe so deeply in my school's honor code that attending a university with an honor code and council is essentially a prerequisite to making my college decision. I still have the daisies I received sophomore and junior years for signing the honor statement at my school, and at all times try to keep in mind what I have agreed to and, furthermore, why. Whether it be a matter of academic integrity, or following other school policies, I remember the teachers and peers I stood in front of on the stage as I signed my name into that old, black, leather book. And likewise, midshipmen do not forget or take lightly their commitments and responsibilities. When trying to take in the full extent of the midshipmen's commitment to honor, all one really can do is feel amazement and awe, and drop his jaw like the fourth-grader, on her elementary school field trip, who is led past Bancroft Hall during noon meal formation. It is that dumbfounding.
The Naval Academy may have one of the top engineering programs in the world, and excellent faculty, two other commendable characteristics of the experience offered there. It may have one of the most beautiful campuses, and be located in the most scenic and historic of cities in the world. But the Naval Academy is actually so incredible because the things that make it incredible cannot be seen or taught. Rather, these principles are present, perhaps indiscernible and impalpable, yet dependable, and unwavering as the flag, in the Academy's inherent nature. These principles live among the men and women who gave their lives to greater things than themselves. These great people now reside on the hillside, facing the water, where the sun stretches out across the bay and up the hill, warming the cold marble slabs. They reside in the deep seas, and in foreign lands, and most of all, in the minds and hearts of the next generation set to protect the same things that their predecessors gave their lives for. These principles are echoed from sea to shining sea, and nowhere do they ring as loudly as they do from hall to hall, across the green expanses and grassy hamlets, on the Naval Academy campus.
While the USNA may not be my future place of residence and scholarship, there are so many reasons it could well be. I want to do something when I grow up. To work with others with whom I have unbreakable bonds. I want to bring social change, stability, light to children's eyes. I want to master the art of language and take in the vibrant cultures the world has to offer. I want to be part of the same sort of collective, the same principles and ideals the Academy preaches and instills in midshipmen. My single week at the Academy was largely unenjoyable, at least while I was there, and I found it to be stressful and taxing, like lifeguarding, but at the end, I feel the greatest sense of accomplishment I have ever felt, the greatest respect and admiration for those who have gone to the Academy, and the greatest patriotic fervor and love for America that I have ever known. I am a romantic and a realist. An idealist and a pragmatist. Compassionate. Dedicated. Intense. Devoted. I love tradition, history, ancient scrolls, and the past. I also love the future. Hopes, plans, ideas. I believe in force, and I believe in diplomacy. I love this country, and truly believe that it is the greatest nation in the world. I have the greatest faith in the potential of mankind, but also see places where improvements could be made. I simply love the gifts that, in the Navy, one is taught to treasure and to preserve. I guess those are pretty good reasons to like a place, right? Hoorah.
On the strength of one link in the cable,Dependeth the might of the chain,
Who knows when thou mayst be tested?
So live that thou bearest the strain!
I will never forget that I am an American, fighting for freedom, responsible for my actions, and dedicated to the principles which made my country free. I will trust in my God and in the United States of America.
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