Veterans Day Memories from a Domestic Violence Victim Advocate Exactly 14.3 Miles from Ft. Campbell Army Base

 

Veterans Day Memories from a Domestic Violence Victim Advocate Exactly 14.3 Miles from Fort Campbell Army Base

My family, friends, and clients know me as a San Francisco based quirky therapist. I love the Bay Area and the community and I cannot ever imagine a place that feels more like me. But, I began my career supporting survivors of domestic violence, sexual assault, and trafficking in my early twenties. This job was as far from the Bay Area as anyone could imagine: Clarksville, Tennessee. This town located about 2 hours North of Nashville was basically a Walmart, a few bars, and the closest neighbor of the Army base at Fort Campbell, Kentucky. I haven't been back since I moved away, but I truly have incredibly fond memories.

When I walked into the Legal Aid Society to begin my role as a Domestic Violence Victim Advocate, my counterpart was a Veteran. She was the first person to welcome me to Clarksville and immediately trusted me and gave me my very first office with a door. She tossed all of my predetermined stereotypes of the military to the side and I began to understand the role of the Army in giving meaningful work to so many in the community. People who work incredibly hard and sacrifice so much for the greater good.

So, my Veterans Day memories are always of that very tiny town. Where we would go to lunch across from the courthouse and see the judge, the attorneys, the mayor, and everyone sitting around together and joking. People who literally sat on other sides of the aisle in the courthouse twenty minutes later. And, I am thankful for the Base to provide a sense of community, a place for jobs and future for so many, and for allowing a handful of young Advocates to park ourselves right in the middle to make change.

Thank you to all the Veterans now and then. Thank you for welcoming me to your community. Thank you for letting me join "the wives" for family get-togethers and for teaching me a vital lesson about checking predetermined notions at the door.

So, if you are looking for a therapist that understands life in San Francisco and life in the tiny town where Tennessee touches Kentucky, please reach out and I will share some really good stories. The first of which I remember is being asked to leave the courtroom because I wasn't dressed appropriately. I had no idea that "professional court attire" meant I had to wear a suit. I have never bought a suit so fast in my life because the judge was incredibly intimidating.  But, now I am in San Francisco so I get to wear sweats to work. Long story.