Written by Georgia Lee Arts
November 11, 2024
Hey, it’s me again. Veteran #22. I used to be called Rose, but my community saw me as someone to disrespect, America’s antihero. Imagine clawing your way back from rock bottom, only to be met with open arms that push you back down to the street. My story is one of betrayal by the very trauma support systems that claim to serve veterans like me. When trauma services designed to heal exploit our stories for their gain, the wounds deepen. It’s called the thank you for your service slap in the face.
In recent years, nonprofits and trauma-focused services have grown rapidly, responding to the very real and urgent needs of veterans dealing with trauma and other scars of service. But behind some of these organizations lies a brutal truth: the desire for profit and recognition often overrides the mission to support successful transition of veterans. I experienced this betrayal firsthand when I sought to collaborate with an equestrian therapy nonprofit that claimed to prioritize veterans' healing. What I faced instead was a stark reminder of the power imbalance between providers and those they are meant to help. Rather than joining forces, they denied collaboration of my business. They silenced me, made me invisible, took my story, stole my veteran and business identity to promote their image without honoring my transition to being supported and seen for the value I bring to my community.
Thank You for Your Service
A "thank you" lands—thin, hollow grace,
Words that vanish, leaving no trace.
Invisible, trampled, a blood-red stain,
Adorning sidewalks, hiding pain.
They’ll use my story, call it their own,
For clients, fame—to shine alone.
Dismissed, disrespected, left misplaced,
The slap of “service” without embrace.
I rose from shadows, fought to stand,
Yet here they leave me, empty-handed.
A borrowed story, a stolen claim—
Their polished words, my silent shame.
When Support Turns to Exploitation
Veteran trauma isn’t a brand or a marketing angle—it’s a brutal reality for many of us. And yet, some organizations co-opt this struggle as a way to boost their own visibility, using veterans' stories as "proof" of their impact. This equestrian nonprofit chose to harness my narrative, a testament to survival, as a way to gain funding, credit, and clients, using the very trauma I endured as a stepping stone for their public image. This practice not only retraumatizes but strips us of the dignity and recognition we worked so hard to regain. When trauma providers manipulate the stories of those they should serve, they compound the wounds we’re already fighting to heal.
Competing with Veteran-owned Businesses
Beyond the betrayal, there’s a damaging irony here: while many nonprofits advertise their commitment to supporting veteran employment and empowerment, they often compete directly with veteran-owned businesses like mine. It’s as if there’s room for only one narrative, theirs, while veterans who strive to build something from their own experiences are silenced or sidelined. By choosing to exploit rather than collaborate, these organizations undermine the very principles they preach, failing to embody the values of integrity and mutual respect they claim to uphold.
The True Cost of “Support”
As a society, we love to believe we support our veterans. We wear ribbons, attend events, and applaud nonprofits that parade their commitment to our cause. But when the spotlight fades, where are these supporters? Real support would mean respecting and amplifying veteran-owned businesses and perspectives, recognizing the difference between genuine collaboration and performative partnership. Real support would mean that trauma providers prioritize the needs of the veterans they serve over their own agendas. “The measure of society is how it treats the weakest members,” wrote Thomas Jefferson. For those of us trying to rise, this measure is often heartbreakingly absent.
Veteran trauma is not a commodity, and the stories of our struggles are not for anyone else’s personal gain. For every trauma provider who competes instead of collaborates, who markets over mentors, there are countless veterans left feeling abandoned as you stand in the spotlight of 22-a-day. My name was Rose, and this is my reminder to those who would exploit our pain: we deserve more than to be pawns in someone else’s game.
You don’t have to feel powerless. If you’re a veteran or a supporter of veterans, ask questions about the true intent behind these nonprofits’ missions. Demand transparency, and when you see veteran-owned businesses, consider supporting them as they share an authenticity often lacking in these larger institutions. Are you a veteran who needs support or would like to share your story? Names and some narrative details are altered to protect identities.
Get on the release list for my new book: Dream Journey, Breaking the Dream Barriers. A Guide to Bridging the Identity Gaps in Life and Career. ™
Georgia Lee Arts, founder of Elysian Dream, is a certified Life and Career Strategy &Transitions coach with 30 years of military and civilian experience in leadership, training, and coaching.
© 2023 Elysian Dream / All Rights Reserved
References:
Wrzesniewski, A., et al. "Jobs, careers, and callings: People’s relations to their work." Journal of Research in Personality, 1997.
Maslach, C., et al. "Job burnout." Annual Review of Psychology, 2001.
Thomas Jefferson Quote Attribution.
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