Academic Service-Learning Essay Contest
Winner
Course: Introduction to Anthropology
Professor: Dr. Barrett Brenton
>
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Prof. Kathryn Shaughnessy
Hello and welcome to the St. John’s University Libraries Podcast
Series. Today we present Academic Service Learning Essay Contest
winner Katie Honan, a junior at St. John’s Queens campus. Ms. Honan
reads here Academic Service Learning essay about working with
patients at local veterans’ hospital. Thank you and we hope you
enjoy the podcast.
Katie M. Honan
Anthropology is the “field of inquiry that studies human culture
and evolutionary aspects of human biology.” In the time I
spent at St. Albans Veterans Hospital, I was able to see human
development as it adapted and dealt with new environments.
St. Albans Veterans Hospital is located on a beautiful,
green, campus-like setting on Linden Boulevard. I chose to
spend my service-learning time there because I have personal ties
to veterans — my dad is a retired Captain in the Naval Reserve.
I was always aware of some of the psychological and physical
issues that sometimes affect veterans, and saw this as a good
opportunity to help a group of people as well as learn about human
development.
Throughout the course of my volunteering, I had the opportunity
to look at those affected by war and by their time in a nursing
home: people who might not have been in their situation if they
were not exposed to combat. I had the chance to witness
veterans whose genetic makeup had been altered as a result of
something that was largely out of their control, while also seeing
people who are feeling the effects of their own bad choices.
I had the chance to briefly see first-hand — human dependency on
alcohol and drugs, and the reasons many people abuse them in the
first place.
Most of my time at the hospital was spent in the large Rec room,
where Bingo was played. During Bingo, I did not get a lot of
opportunities to sit and talk with the veterans because they were
all really into their game. Some of them took “Bingo” rather
seriously; arguments would sometimes break out across the table if
someone accused another individual of “cheating.”
They would always request Power Balls because they could win
vouchers; they would `never want the games to end. Their
prizes were $1 booklets, bought through the Veterans’ Department,
and redeemable for things in the hospital store. After
dessert was served, the other volunteers and I would usually just
sit and talk with the veterans.
Since I spent time there on Mondays, the topic would usually be
Monday Night Football and many of the veterans would get into
playful fights about which teams would eventually take it all the
way to the Super Bowl. We would also discuss current events,
and when bringing up certain topics, the fights would not be so
playful. By the time Monday Night Football began, the dessert
was finished and the other Legion members and I would clean up and
say our goodbyes. The next week we did it all over again, and
somehow, in between the set-up and the clean-up, I developed new
insights and found a way to relate all of my experiences to
Anthropology.
The center at St. Albans was like a regular hospital, although
the Rec Room was large, cheerful and decorated nicely. My
first night there I tried to look past the atmosphere of the place,
but it was hard—it is difficult to get rid of that hospital
smell. There was a ping-pong table in the back, shelves of
books and magazines, and a large TV that was shut off during
Bingo. The actual Bingo setup was high-tech—there was a large
lighted Bingo board, a microphone and a huge case where the Bingo
balls would come out.
St. Albans, like so many other veterans hospitals, is usually
subjected to budget cuts and the threat of closing. A
much-needed renovation was slated by the government — to begin in
2020. Veterans are usually forgotten; as much as we love to
put “Support Our Troops” ribbons on our cars, and as much as the
government would be lost without veterans, when it is time to
devote time and money, they are mostly
forgotten. I became interested in these
veterans, especially since so many of them were even younger than
my parents.
When I came home from the hospital, my dad and I would
sometimes get into long discussions about the residents, and the
problems that veterans have faced. Some suffered the effects
of combat-inflicted wounds, and others suffered the effects of
Agent Orange. Most of them, however, were there as a result
of problems not obviously caused by their time in the military —
mostly substance abuse addiction.
My dad was always quick to remind me that for those in the
hospital for substance-abuse problems, it was their fault. I
tried to explain that maybe they abused drugs as a result of what
they saw in the military and what they saw when they were shipped
off to a place they probably should never have been. For so
many veterans, choosing to abuse a substance was their own choice,
but going off to war was not. For me, the causes and effects
of addiction were obvious.
Many of the other residents were at St. Albans just because they
were elderly and were veterans — they were not in there due to any
direct effect of serving. Many of them had not even seen
combat. They had simply come into the place because they
needed help, or because their families could no longer take care of
them. Many of the women in the home were simply military
nurses.
St. Albans is no different than any other nursing home in the
way it brings up loneliness in people. Many residents were
there because no one could care for them, or no one cared enough to
do so. Some of the nurses seemed less than apathetic towards
the situation, and looked as though they treated the residents not
as people, but as tasks to complete. The veterans were always
so appreciative of everything we did, and said “thank you” whenever
they could.
Before Veteran’s Day, I brought in thank-you cards made by my
mom’s students from her elementary school. Most of the cards
were simple, construction paper-and-crayon pieces of art; others,
however, were long notes of gratitude and stories of brothers,
sisters and cousins fighting in Iraq. These students
recognized the service of the veterans — many years ago — and found
a way to connect to them now, during a time when we are fighting a
war that is so similar to the ones others fought in the past.
Looking at the thankful faces of the veterans made me think of
how their situations tied into the present; about how the past
somehow was finding a way to repeat itself. I thought about
the future of the St. Albans Veterans Hospital in 20 years, filled
with these students’ relatives, and so many others like them.
I thought about these young men and women confined to wheelchairs,
playing Bingo, maybe even spending time with volunteers filling out
a journal for a college class.
As a result of my experience, I found a new way to look at
things. I came into this thinking my time spent at St. Albans
would be a “pity party,” where I could watch these long-forgotten
veterans as they suffered as a result of what the government had
put them through. Not one of these soldiers, however, seemed
bitter about spending their Monday nights playing Bingo. They
all seemed proud to have served their country. They all
seemed to accept St. Albans in a way I did not think I would, and I
gave them a lot of respect for it. They saw their wheelchairs
and injuries as a part of their own human development, and whether
or not this could have been avoided was not made into an issue.
I also realized that a lot of them were there as a result of
their own poor choices, and I had to stop pointing fingers at the
government. Maybe we, as humans, have more to do with our own
development than other species — perhaps it is our free will that
is meant to free us from always pointing fingers at other people
for our own problems.
The concept of the nursing home is fairly new —development
first began in the 1960s, possibly due to cultural trends or even
medical advancements. While it is true that some of the
residents at St. Albans and at any other nursing home are actually
there because they need constant medical supervision, most of them
were just dumped there.
My grandmother had a lot of health problems, and my parents put
her in a nursing home only after they realized they could not take
care of her; even at that point, the guilt would sometimes get to
them. We visited her as many times as we could, far more than
the relatives of most of the other residents in her nursing home;
however, she was still in a nursing home, a supposed “dumping
ground.”
On the other side of this look at nursing homes, is the human
need to take care of its own. However you choose to look at
them, nursing homes are ultimately the result of our developmental
need to look after one another. We are part of the only
species on this planet with the societal expectations to prolong
life and care for the elderly in our lives. We are supposed
to look after one another.
The presence of war is as old as we are; it has been affecting
society and culture forever, and spending my time at a veterans
hospital allowed me to witness some of these effects first
hand. You do not have to go to Arlington National Cemetery to
see the casualties of war; just head to your local veterans
hospital. Some of the veterans lost their limbs, their immune
systems, or their sanity. They had all the guts, but for some
of them, none of the glory, and spending time with them just made
me appreciate what they did even more. And I hope I can let
them know that no matter what I do, I can never thank them
enough.
Prof. Kathryn Shaughnessy
That concludes this podcast. Bumper music is “Here I Am” by
Everyday Jones courtesy of Podsafe Audio. We thank Katie Honan and
the Office of Academic Service Learning for sharing their time and
talent for the greater community. Thank you.