By Judy McSpadden

Most moms grimace when recalling trips to the pediatrician for their kids’ early vaccinations.

When my son, Grant, turned two, I knew we were in for some pain and drama at the 2-year appointment – four shots, two Baby Tylenol, and lots of tears. My friends had warned me, and I dreaded it.

Holding hands, we walked down the hall of the base hospital. I steeled myself for the upcoming ordeal, and he jabbered on about this and that. We counted floor tiles, waved to elderly volunteers, and I tried to keep my voice light so I wouldn’t worry him.

“I wonder if he had any idea how he modeled strength and courage for my little boy that day. I would like to have thanked him.”

We turned at the “Immunizations” sign, and we made our way to the front desk. That’s when Grant spied a nurse walking by with a syringe in her hand. I knew he’d seen her because he abruptly stopped talking and somberly turned his head toward me. Lifting his little chin, he caught and held my eye.

“Mommy,” he said with the weight of the whole world in his voice.  “I don’t want that today. I do not want a shot.”

What was I to say? I wouldn’t want a shot either — not today or any day. Shots hurt. I imagined responses I could come up with. “Oh, it won’t hurt a bit, Sweetie!” was one, but that was a flat-out lie. He’d never trust me after that.

“C’mon, tough guy, be a big boy” sounded motivating, like a football coach, but it sounded insensitive too; who knew what guilt he’d experience if he cried after that?

Stroking his hair, I just offered random utterances. “I’m right here, Buddy,” I said. “You’ll be OK,” I said.

But Grant wasn’t listening. He had tuned me out. His gaze had shifted to a stocky sergeant, about 5’11,” who had walked to the front of the clinic. Dressed in camo gear, the sergeant was obviously processing through the hospital in preparation for a deployment. While the receptionist was initialing his checklist, a female medical technician was giving him instructions.

The sergeant slowly rolled up his left sleeve and faced in Grant’s direction. In fact, staring directly at Grant, he anchored his feet in a stride akin to a sailor on a rocking ship. The med tech swabbed his arm with a cotton pad.

While the tech injected the serum, the sergeant stood fast, expressionless and still as a stone. Likewise, Grant watched, sitting motionless in my lap. When the tech finished, she walked to the sergeant’s other side. He’d already begun rolling up his right sleeve. The tech repeated the procedure. The sergeant rolled down his sleeve, said thank you, and walked out.

“Your turn, Sweetie!” The tech’s voice was strident as she turned toward Grant, all smiles, while disposing of the old syringes and changing her gloves.

Oh Geez, here goes. I was preparing for anything – for chasing him around the clinic, apologizing to other patients in case he yelled and  screamed.

But Grant didn’t scream; he didn’t even move. He just sat in my lap, head down — still as a stone.

“You ready?” I murmured.

“I’m ready,” he replied resolutely.

The tech walked to our chair, got to her knees, and wiped his arm. One shot…two shots…three shots (My gosh, does it ever end?)…four. Done.

Grant gave a single twitch, then a slight whimper.

“Very good, big fella!” the tech said all smiles again. “Do you want a sticker?”

“No thank you,” he said. “I’m ready to go please.” He was trying hard to keep his voice from trembling.

“I’m so proud of you, Grant,” I whispered, bowing my head over his hunched shoulders. “You’re so strong and brave.”

I’ve often thought of that sergeant when taking my kids to the clinic over the years. I wonder how he managed on is deployment. I wonder if he had any idea how he modeled strength and courage for my little boy that day. I would like to have thanked him.

We never know who’s going to impact our children in their lives. Sometimes it’s a person we know well, and other times, it’s a stranger. That sergeant exhibited sturdy calmness to a child that day. He communicated other qualities too, virtues of the service member that the young — and the old, for that matter — can’t always articulate. But they do admire those qualities, and I admire them too. I still do.

CSRA, Inc., an IT and technology services company, and Our Military Kids linked arms July 15 for a few hours of G-rated family fun at Frying Pan Park in Herndon, Virginia.

“This was a great example of super-positive employee engagement,” said Linda Davidson, OMK’s executive director. “We brought goodies that had been donated to military kids, we invited some area military families who had received grants, and CSRA provided the manpower. Not only that, some friendly Mission Barbecue servers brought very tasty food.”

Even the weather cooperated to make for a fun and relaxing time for kids and adults. There was face painting, limbo, an obstacle course, crafts, and free books for military kids from Barnes and Noble customers.

“These are the kinds of partnerships we hope will last for years to come,” said Davidson.

 

By Judy McSpadden

This week in Oshkosh, Wisconsin, is EAA’s AirVenture, the biggest annual gathering of aviation enthusiasts in the country. With 550,000 people in attendance, 10,000-plus aircraft, and visitors from 80 nations, it is the place to be if you like airplanes.

Our Military Kids grant recipient, and super-charged aviation enthusiast, Naomi Ceballos-Lopez knows all about AirVenture, especially since she just recently completed her second Air Academy Camp experience at Oshkosh.

“At camp, I figured out that I’m extremely interested in aviation,” said Naomi, a 15-year-old high school sophomore, who received the OMK camp grant when her father deployed overseas with the Army Reserves. “A job in aviation is anything but ordinary. You can fly, be an engineer, or be a mechanic. I would like to be a commercial pilot, a drone pilot, or an air traffic controller.”

Naomi found out about the Oshkosh camp from one of her teachers at school. “She was telling me about a program called Young Eagles, where pilots give kids flights,” she said. “I tried one of those flights and absolutely loved everything about it.

“At first, I was kind of scared, but it was a great feeling. I saw the world in a different perspective. It’s not like driving a car. You have to control the stick, up and down. There are a lot of buttons to press.”

Ironically, Naomi has a driver’s permit, but she won’t get her license until December.

From the Young Eagles program, Naomi learned about the Air Academy in Oshkosh. About 40 kids from all over the country attended the week-long summer camp. Naomi has gone two years in a row.

Campers participate in the traditional camp experience with dormitories, games, and team-building activities like rock climbing. They also work with wood, sheet metal and other materials to make an airplane wing and to learn about planes throughout history.

Of course, the campers also fly.  Naomi said, “We went up in a helicopter and a Skycatcher airplane. It was small, seating two people, and I got to fly all around Oshkosh.”

When school starts, Naomi will return to her other interests. She plays sports, like golf and track, and she’s a cheerleader. One of the clubs she likes is El Sol, an organization that helps Hispanics in the community.

Beyond high school, she is considering going to college at Embry Riddle, an aviation school. It’s not surprising that, as a military kid, she’s also thinking about joining the U.S. Air Force.

“My dad’s military benefits have given me a lot of opportunity, like the OMK grant for camp. I’m also able to use the facilities at Ft. McCoy nearby. My family tries to swim at the pool once a month,” she said.

As the week winds down, visitors at Oshkosh – including OMK’s own, Executive Director Linda Davidson  – will be returning to their routines. But there’s one military kid who will continue looking skyward, planning for a bright future.

(Please email comments to JSMcSpadden@ourmilitarykids.org.)

 

 

 

 

Picture this: You’re a high school senior whose team just won a  semi-world championship. As one of the star players, you’re on your knees on the playing field, reveling in the victory, while balloons and confetti rain over you, music pumps over loud speakers, and a crowd of 40,000 wildly cheers your success. Does it get any better than this?

For OMK grant recipient Paul Kovacic, of Kalamazoo, Michigan, the answer is yes. It will get even better this weekend, when his robotics team, Stryke Force, plays its top competitor in Bedford, New Hampshire, home of famed inventor Dean Kamen. Among many achievements, Kamen invented the Segway and, in 1989, founded FIRST, the international high school robotics competition referred to as “the ultimate sport for the mind.”

FIRST (FRC) stands for For Inspiration and Recognition of Science and Technology. It is an annual competition for teams of 20 to 100 students, taking six weeks to build robots that compete in regional and national tournaments. Last year, its 25^th, there were more than 3,000 teams with roughly 75,000 students and 19,000 mentors.

“It’s amazing. I’m getting goosebumps all over again,” said Paul’s mother, Myla Kovacic.

As she breathlessly recounts Paul’s team experience over the last three years and  the recent win in St. Louis, you can’t help but feel her enthusiasm for the “sport” of robotics.

“Every year at world competition, the theme is different. New game, new rules,” she said.

Like playing some other sport — football or basketball — the robots are players (that the kids control) who must meet objectives using strategy and skill. They are  turning, shifting, climbing – racing to complete tasks on the championship field, called “Einstein,” ahead of the other robot team and before the bell rings. There are gears to pick up, to hang on a peg, to place in a puzzle at the top of the “castle.” There’s vacuuming and shooting. And lots of cheering.

Doug Staunton is one of the team’s four main mentors and Chief Engineer at Stryker Corporation, a Fortune 500 medical technologies company and team sponsor. He provided an engineering perspective when describing this year’s competition: “The game is always played on a 27-by-54-foot field. As our ‘human player,’ Paul stood behind a safety gate at one end of the field. At the other end, we had a driver and copilot  with remote controllers behind glass.

“The first 15 seconds of the game is autonomous with these 120-pound robots running on code and using preprogrammed actions. Then the human team members drive them around.”

According to Staunton, out of the roughly 30 team members who travelled to the games, some worked in “the pit,” where robots were serviced between matches. Others were running around collecting statistics on robots and looking for future partners. Students on the teams have a variety of interests and talents in addition to engineering.

“We also have a business arm,” said Staunton. “Kids put a business plan together, a budget, and a pitch they take on the road.”

Staunton said Paul was selected as a human player three years ago, when one of the aspects of the game was throwing swimming noodles over a 7-foot-high wall. Since Paul is 6’7” and an athlete, “he was a big asset.”

Michigan has the highest number of FIRST teams. Stryke Force, begun by homeschoolers 10 years ago, now draws kids from 12 area schools. Stryker Corporation began sponsoring the team nine years ago with the focus of teaching kids good engineering design practices.

Staunton is committed to helping the program because he has seen how it changes kids’ lives.

“Kids learn real-world skills. A lot of them have received college scholarships,” he said.

Staunton remembers when Paul joined the team three years ago. He was quiet, but the program gave him confidence. This year, he designed a critical part of the robot. Now, the program has charted the course for Paul’s future.

Paul said, “I played a total of 12 years of soccer, but that ended my freshman year. One day, I realized it woudn’t get me where I want to be, but academics will. That’s when I decided to pursue robotics to secure that future.”

Paul has earned an academic scholarship to major in mechanical engineering at Michigan Tech University.

When Paul starts college in the fall, his dad will still be deployed to the Middle East as a computer specialist with the Air National Guard. That deployment allowed for Paul’s OMK grant in the first place.

“We didn’t have to pay a fee to get in at the competition,” said Myla, “but we did have to pay for travel, food and hotel. The grant paid for that, and we’re so thankful for it.

“When I see an organization like Our Military Kids, that gives from love, it doesn’t stop, it just continues,” Myla said.

For Stryke Force, this upcoming weekend schedule includes a visit to Dean Kamen’s house; a tour of DEKA, Kamen’s engineering company; some local exploration; and, of course the final competition.

It’s all an exciting adventure for Paul Kovacic, and his OMK grant was part of that. Who knows what achievements robotics will lead to for Paul and, for that matter, for the society that benefits from his efforts?

Kamen once told Forbes’s Glenn Rifkin, “We’ll be successful when you can walk up to the average kid on the street and he’ll be able to name a few heroes who…don’t dribble a basketball.”

(Please email your comments to JSMcSpadden@ourmilitarykids.org.)

 

One of OMK’s own recently received recognition from the Department of the Army for dedication and selfless service in support of the Army Wounded Warrior Program.

Michelle Tran, Family Programs Coordinator and Event Specialist, has worked for Our Military Kids 8 years. She spends the lion’s share of her time working with families of wounded warriors.

Tran’s efforts at Our Military Kids were recently highlighted by Hakiim Mohammad, an advocate with the Army Wounded Warrior Program (AW2) at Ft. Rucker, Alabama. AW2 is the official U.S. Army program that assists and advocates for severely wounded, ill, and injured soldiers, veterans, and their families, as they recover and transition to civilian life.

Mohammad said the AW2 assists soldiers and veterans with a wide array of transition concerns, ranging from Social Security benefits to job hunting to help for wounded warrior children. It’s the latter that led to Mohammad’s relationship with Our Military Kids. He values anyone who makes transition easier for military families, and he has worked with Tran for many years.

Linda Davidson, OMK’s executive director, said, “Our Military Kids is proud to honor and support the children of our wounded warriors as they recover and transition to their new normal. We are sensitive to the struggles and challenges faced by these families, and we’re fortunate to have caring individuals like Michelle Tran ready and eager to assist these families when they reach out to Our Military Kids for support.”

(For more information, call Judy McSpadden, 703-734-6654.)

When she returned from a deployment to Afghanistan, Sergeant Tishara Gilliam, suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, knew she was a very different from the person who had left 12 months before. What she didn’t expect was the difference that had taken place in her baby girl, London.

“When I got off that plane, London wasn’t just walking, she took off running,” said Gilliam, a recently retired Army logistician who had deployed after leaving London, at 7-months-old, with her parents.

According to Gilliam, London has been running ever since that day. “She’s always running – even in flip flops. She has always liked to play tag because no one can catch her.”

Consequently, Gilliam told London, “I’m just gonna have you run for real,” and she used a grant from Our Military Kids to enroll London, at age 7, in the Sonic Boom Running Club at Ft. Belvoir, Virginia. The track club, established in 1999, is made up of athletes, ages 5-18, who compete locally and nationally.

With less than a year of competitive running under her pint-sized belt, London has now set her team’s mile-run record, and is going to compete in national junior olympic games in Detroit at the end of this month.

The games are sponsored by the Amateur Athletic Union, founded in 1888 to establish standards in amateur sports. The first AAU Junior Olympic Games opened in 1967, in Washington DC, with 523 athletes. Since then, the games have become the largest national multi-sport event for youth in the country. They have occurred in 19 states and 30 cities.

At age 7, London runs the mile in 7 minutes, 22 seconds – not bad, considering, according to Livestrong.com, the average 12-year-old girl, in the top half of her peers, runs the mile in about 11 minutes.

As a single parent experiencing emotional ups and downs linked to wartime trauma, Gilliam said she has tried to teach London that bad things can happen, but that they can make a person stronger than before.

“London knows I have PTSD,” said Gilliam. “In fact, she’s protective of me sometimes. She was born on Thanksgiving.”

Gilliam, has two other children, Anaiah, 10, and K’Marian, 4, who also received Our Military Kids grants. The family will grow again in August, when Gilliam marries a man she has known 11 years.

“He’s been my rock,” she said.

Gilliam’s whole family recently attended an OMK family day at the park. She said she would pass along to OMK the results of the run. In August, our readers can check this site to find out. Meanwhile – Good luck, London!

(Please email your comments to JSMcSpadden@ourmilitarykids.org.)

What does a soldier do when he finally retires, ready to decompress from a life of service, strain and sweat, but he finds he can’t sleep at night? What does he do when his darkest battle moments keep playing across his closed eyes? When he seeks solace from drink, he gets worse. He can’t remember the good times of his life – only the military routines: work, PT, work, eat dinner, go to sleep, up again at dawn, work…

When in 2016, Marine Gunnery Sgt. Julian Mejorado took an early retirement option after 17 years’ military service, he didn’t know he had a problem. He just knew he was ready to exhale; his career had been intense. Early on, he had served as a recruiter and was never home. Later, as an administrative specialist, he joined an Infantry battalion. In Iraq, in 2006, he would go out on the range with the infantry troops, then play catch-up on administrative duties at night.

He said, “I was always goal oriented, striving for rank. Then, when I made gunnery sergeant, I went into autopilot for 10 years. My wife took care of the kids and the house; I worked. When I did come home, the kids were asleep. I wasn’t seeing them grow up.”

His wife of 15 years knew he had a problem. He said, “She would say to me, ‘It’s time for you to get out. You’re not the man I married. It’s time to retire and work on you now.’”

When Mejorado did retire, the transition did not bring him the peace he expected. There was more time for thinking about the war; there was more time to drink. When he attempted suicide in 2016, he got the help needed for him to turn the corner.

“I woke up in the hospital,” he said, “and the VA came to my aide.”

He said, “I was in a really dark place. I had been diagnosed with a 50 percent disability involving depression. My counselors said memory loss is part of PTSD and depression.”

Mejorado was assigned a case manager whom he believes saved his life.  He said, “She threw great programs at me: AA, Semper Fi…and Our Military Kids.”

Thanks to the Our Military Kids grants, Mejorado’s two children — Savannah, age 7, and Xavier, age 9 — are taking swimming and karate at the local YMCA in Oceanside, California. Since Mejorado had contracted a sun sensitivity in Iraq, and he needed to sit in the shade, this YMCA, which had awnings near the swimming pool, was an appealing choice.

“The kids love to swim, and that gives me a positive outlook too,” he said. “Knowing my kids are learning something they can use when they’re older is great. And their smiles really give me a smile.”

As to the future, Mejorado said, “I’ve been getting better.”

His wife, a substitute teacher, is hopeful she can find a full-time teaching job. The couple is hoping to buy a home.

Mejorado said, “My number 1 concern is my health and kids’ future.”