Thank you, Chair, and members of the committee. I appreciate the opportunity to address you in this inquiry on barriers to transition.
If I let any of my “Californianisms” slip, and that becomes a barrier, please make that apparent. My wife tells me I'm not great at taking social cues. I think that makes me exciting and she also tells me that it's not the same thing as being fun or enjoyable.
In January 2008, a fellow airman and I were walking back from a mission briefing at Kandahar when we encountered about 300 of your CAF forces on a long dirt road returning from the airfield. Armed only with your guidons and your Canadian flag, you were still very formidable. The most powerful thing about that force, however, was its silence. That would not be remarkable, if they were marching in formation. However, they were not. Instead, they were simply walking together closely and with an undeniable resolve.
My fellow airman and I ceased our own conversation because we knew that the loss of a fellow comrade is the only thing that could mute your senses in such profound and lasting ways. Your forces were on their way back from a ramp ceremony at the airfield where they loaded the remains of one of your fellow countrymen onto an aircraft for their final repatriation.
I have not had the opportunity to formally and personally acknowledge that loss. I know our governments have had that exchange, but I'm here to tell you, as a fellow airman and soldier, that my battle buddies and I felt that loss very deeply.
In that light, it's a privilege to offer my perspective, as an ally, combat veteran, and disabled-veteran-turned-social-worker, to participate in a shared effort to repatriate the health and souls of the men and women who are still with us here today, regardless of the flag under which we served.
I spent the last 15 months of my 20-year career in the Air Force doing medical and mental rehabilitation for a mild traumatic brain injury, back and neck injuries, and post-traumatic stress. In November 2016, the Air Force medically retired me and I have since dedicated my time to try to intentionally shape the post-war legacy of OIF and OEF veterans. I believe that legacy is one of continued service to humanity, especially for marginalized groups, given the wisdom that only the physically injured and invisibly injured can hold. I think the preceding witness, Mark, is a perfect example of that. I'm not sure who wouldn't want a man or woman like that on his or her team.
As this committee knows, resourcing, educating, and coordinating those services is a messy business. It's like trying to weld Jell-O. It's frustrating, but it deserves our very best and concerted efforts.
Last September, CIMVHR impressed upon me the depth of talent that your nation possesses in research and academia and you're simply some of the nicest people I've ever been around. My network has since established working relationships with members in Ottawa, Toronto, and Winnipeg. These combined efforts continue to speak into that silence for the injured and uncover the resolve that I sensed from your CAF members back in 2008 in Kandahar to help through that transition.
If it pleases the committee, upon my return to the United States, I can give you in-depth answers to any of the questions that we can't cover in this session, especially for those American equivalents to your JPSU, VAC, and DND. My work study at the University of Southern California's centre for innovation and research on veterans and military families availed me of their military transition theory and the five elements for collaborative impact that drive a Los Angeles veterans collaborative. However, my cursory research tells me that many of the pains and challenges that you all face align with what we face as well.
I'm eager to answer your questions and I'm honoured to be here. Thank you.