Communities across the U.S. are using a collective impact approach that aligns people and organizations from all sectors — government, business, nonprofit and more — around shared goals to ensure more successful outcomes for veterans and their families. When service members leave the military, a network of more than 45,000 nonprofits, public agencies, organizations and individuals aim to support their transitions to civilian life. The collective impact framework is powered by collaboration across the public, private, business and social services sectors. In this video, members of National Veterans Intermediary (NVI)’s Local Partners collaboratives explain the collective impact approach and show it in action in communities in Texas, New York and Maine. Learn how to build a strong community-based collaborative in your community here.
This article was produced in partnership with National Veterans Intermediary, an initiative of the Bob Woodruff Foundation. NVI increases the collaborative capacity of local communities to steward a national ecosystem, in order to achieve optimal well-being for veterans and their families. Sign up for alerts about NVI’s free webinars and tools to support community-based collaboration here.
When service members separate or retire from the military, more than 45,000 nonprofits, thousands of public agencies, and countless other organizations and individuals aim to support their transitions back to civilian life. This series explores how communities are collaborating across public, private, business, and social sectors to better connect the systems that serve veterans. This principle is called “collective impact”. The subjects featured are members of National Veterans Intermediary (NVI) Local Partner collaboratives. Camden Ege was just out of high school when he enlisted in the Air Force in 2007, but college was still on his mind. He was on active duty when he earned an associate degree in Education and then applied to the University of Southern Maine (USM). Ege thought he was being proactive until his brother, who serves in Maine’s National Guard, began peppering him with questions: Had he applied for GI Bill benefits? Had he filled out his Free Application for Federal Student Aid? “I thought, ‘How has no one told me any of this?’” Ege recalled. He felt lucky to have his brother guide him through the process, but he knew not everyone has that advantage. “Others don’t necessarily know how to access resources or even that they need to,” he said. In 2015, the Department of Veterans Affairs studied student veterans’ perceived barriers to achieving academic goals. The research highlighted the need for a system that better explains the GI Bill and other school-related policies to service members before they enroll in an education program. The study also recommended offering ongoing, accessible support to veterans throughout their academic career. Ege also realized the importance of supporting vets who pursue higher education, so he established the USM chapter of Student Veterans of America. He then helped expand the university’s Green Zone program, which coaches faculty members on understanding the unique challenges student veterans face. Once he graduated, Ege took a job with USM’s Veterans Services. It was through his on-the-ground experience helping veterans access education resources that Ege began to realize how fragmented the current system is. There are numerous nonprofits that work to enroll veterans in college, but these groups often operate in a vacuum. Instead of collaborating toward a common goal, the organizations are competing to create the greatest independent impact. As the state’s approving official for the Maine GI Bill, Ege is now in a position to do things differently. In his role, he evaluates and approves education programs, including on-the-job training and apprenticeships, that military members can access through the GI Bill. “What excites me is making a veteran’s dream come true,” he said.
These days Ege is more dedicated than ever to increasing veteran accessibility to education — and he’s thinking about how to do so holistically through a model known as “collective impact.” It’s a collaborative approach that gives those with similar end goals a blueprint for how to come together to work smarter and more effectively. Ege is a co-chair of the Maine Military and Community Network (MMCN), which convenes community stakeholders to discuss issues impacting their work and figure out how they can share resources in order to overcome the challenges they all face. Each stakeholder brings their own unique expertise to the table, which helps everyone align on a set of common goals in a supportive environment that energizes the group to keep collectively working towards helping ease the transition from military to civilian life for local veterans. One of ten MMCN chapters in Maine, this network of local organizations includes a VA medical center; a community-based counseling center; outpatient clinics; the state chapter of Easterseals; and Boots2Roots, a Maine nonprofit focused on connecting with soon-to-be-veterans before they transition back to civilian life. These groups have developed a shared understanding of the problem and have committed to solving it together by sharing resources, data and knowledge. Connection is key, Ege said, “so that we’re all on the same page about how we can address the needs of our veterans’ community. When a provider is committed enough to stay active in our collaboration, that speaks volumes as to how reliable they’ll be when we refer a veteran to them.” And when veterans get frustrated because there’s not a clear solution to their problem, “having a point person is huge,” said Ege. “I can’t help solve every problem,” he added. “But I can be one dedicated person to answer their questions and help them find the right people to talk to.”
Ege feels confident that, over time, the collective-impact approach he’s championed will make a significant difference in the educational outcomes for Maine’s veterans. And though not in his official job description, Ege, is dedicated to helping veterans reintegrate back to civilian life, stepping in when he needs to as a friend, an ombudsman or a counselor. “The idea has always been to make sure all of a student veteran’s basic needs are met so that they can focus on their coursework,” Ege said. “Ultimately, helping veterans is all that matters at the end of the day.”
This article was produced in partnership with National Veterans Intermediary, an initiative of the Bob Woodruff Foundation. NVI increases the collaborative capacity of local communities to steward a national ecosystem, in order to achieve optimal well-being for veterans and their families. Sign up for alerts about NVI’s free webinars and tools to support community-based collaboration here.
When service members separate or retire from the military, more than 45,000 nonprofits, thousands of public agencies, and countless other organizations and individuals aim to support their transitions back to civilian life. This series explores how communities are collaborating across public, private, business, and social sectors to better connect the systems that serve veterans. This principle is called “collective impact.” The subjects featured are all members of National Veterans Intermediary (NVI) Local Partner collaboratives. Laura Whitfield joined the Marines right out of high school. While stationed in Tokyo, she earned a bachelor’s degree and worked as a broadcast journalist, yet her transition back to civilian life was bumpy. In the military, “anything I needed, I could go to my commanding officer and get guidance on the resources we had on base,” Whitfield said. “It was a close-knit community where we all supported each other.” But once she returned to the U.S., “I didn’t have a full sense of ‘OK, what do I do now?’. [Instead], I had a sense of confusion,” she recalled. “I didn’t have any idea how to connect with an organization that helped veterans.” Today, Whitfield is the director of the Miami-Dade chapter of Mission United, a United Way program that helps veterans navigate local services and resources. The nonprofit operates as a coordination center — a one-stop shop where veterans can go when they need help with everything from finding steady work and affordable housing to accessing healthcare and legal services. Since its launch in 2013, Mission United has helped more than 12,000 veterans and their families, but Whitfield and her team know there’s always more that can be done. An estimated 40,000 veterans currently live on the streets and nearly 25% have a disability resulting from their service. Another sobering statistic: Roughly 6,000 veterans die by suicide each year. To better help more veterans, Mission United partners with a number of diverse organizations across the private and public sectors. The group effort Whitfield leads, in which each partnering organization’s unique strengths are leveraged to benefit the most people, is essential to Mission United’s success. It’s an approach known as “collective impact,” which refers to a coordinated cross-sector collaboration structured to achieve measurable impact on social issues.
“We all want to offer comprehensive services that address the needs of veterans and their families, and reduce the barriers they face when integrating back to their communities,” Whitfield said of the collaboration’s goals. “We share data and information about the capacity we have to provide these services, and work together to fill gaps so that veterans aren’t turned away because the community has reached a threshold limit,” said Whitfield, adding that a key component to their success is continuous follow-up with veterans to make sure they’re getting the help they need. Within this network of nonprofits, corporations and government agencies, Mission United serves as the “backbone”: The organization not only acts as a coordination center for veterans needing assistance, it also sets the strategic focus and vision for the collective. Currently, Whitfield is in the process of retooling the program in Miami, with input and feedback from Mission United’s partners. Her hope is that Mission United can eventually help service members prepare for life after the military, even while still on active duty. That includes preemptively networking and forging connections with other people — and fellow veterans — in their communities back home. Once that happens, “[veterans] don’t feel so alone and isolated,” Whitfield said. “They’ve got their tribe.” For her part, Whitfield is encouraged by the strides Mission United is making. “I know that we have the right [partners] at the table because there is buy-in to a shared vision, willing participation and engagement, ownership of results and trust among partners,” she said.
Although Whitfield only recently joined the Miami chapter of Mission United, she’s all-in on the nonprofit’s collective impact approach. In the future, she said, “we’ll focus on developing strategies and aligning on a system of measurement in a way that celebrates the contribution of all of the ecosystem partners in helping veterans achieve fulfilling and productive lives after serving.”
This article was produced in partnership with National Veterans Intermediary, an initiative of the Bob Woodruff Foundation. NVI increases the collaborative capacity of local communities to steward a national ecosystem, in order to achieve optimal well-being for veterans and their families. Sign up for alerts about NVI’s free webinars and tools to support community-based collaboration here.
When service members separate or retire from the military, more than 45,000 nonprofits, thousands of public agencies, and countless other organizations and individuals aim to support their transitions back to civilian life. This series explores how communities are collaborating across public, private, business, and social sectors to better connect the systems that serve veterans. This principle is called “collective impact”. The subjects featured are members of National Veterans Intermediary (NVI) Local Partner collaboratives. Pennsylvania is home to an estimated 930,000 veterans — 5,000 of whom reside in McKean County, a rural area in the northwestern part of the state. “We don’t have access to things in our backyard, like a city like Philadelphia or Pittsburgh does,” said Zach Pearson, an Army veteran and director of the county’s Department of Veterans Services. “So how do we combat that and still provide excellent service to our veterans?” The answer: Design a model that invites all community members to become stakeholders in veterans’ well-being, and work collectively toward the achievement of goals that support them. McKean County’s approach deploys the “collective impact” framework. Jennifer Splansky Juster, executive director of Collective Impact Forum, describes the all-hands-on-deck approach as building “a shared understanding of a problem and a commitment to solving it together.” When it comes to addressing complex social issues and creating lasting change, collective impact, which effectively mobilizes diverse participants with the same agenda, can generate more momentum than any one person or group working in isolation. McKean County’s Department of Veterans Services makes sure local veterans and their families get the county, state and federal benefits they’re entitled to. But for Pearson, assisting vets doesn’t stop there. He’s also dedicated to helping them find steady employment, receive counseling and access medical care. To reach those goals, Pearson has built a framework of companies, nonprofits, hospitals and schools. Thanks to his efforts, each month for the past two years 28 members of the McKean County Community Veterans Engagement Board have carved out time for strategic planning. After clearly defining the biggest issues facing local veterans, they create a plan that outlines the steps needed to address them. “We’re not there to eat lunch together,” Pearson said. “We’re there to solve problems.” Pearson serves as the group’s leader, bringing together state representatives, county commissioners, the regional director of the Environmental Protection Agency, anti-homelessness advocates, and suicide prevention coordinators. “If someone has an impact on veterans’ lives, they’re asked to be on my board,” he said.
The network’s information-sharing and aligned activities have produced bold results, and incorporating diverse perspectives and opinions adds invaluable input into real-time issues. For instance, when Pearson learned that some veterans had no choice but to drive four hours to the nearest VA hospital in Pittsburgh for cancer treatment, he met with decision-makers at the regional airport and Southern Airways Express, an airline that serves the area. They agreed to offer veterans $19 fares. The collaboration also arranged free ground transportation and helped coordinate hotel stays for veterans while they were in Pittsburgh. “It’s simple outside-the-box thinking,” said Pearson. “Almost everyone I’ve come across is 100% willing to help.” To get more exposure for his efforts and increase community engagement, Pearson regularly hosts live Q&A sessions on Facebook. In 20-minute increments, he might explain what Pennsylvania’s chapter of Wounded Warrior Project does or give an overview of the VA Medical Center’s services. “It’s like an introduction to the organizations in our backyard,” he said. “One of the most positive parts of my job is putting someone in contact with a service they didn’t know about.” It’s something he gets to do more often these days. “The fact that [veterans] are blowing up my phone — that’s a measure of success,” said Pearson. “I can get a phone call telling me a veteran’s disability [application] was approved, but that doesn’t mean as much to me as 25 phone calls in a day. People are trusting that we can help them.” Next on Pearson’s agenda? Spreading the word about how the collective impact approach has helped the veterans in McKean County. “If it works for our county, it’ll work for others,” Pearson said. “When the community gets involved in veterans’ lives, more members are encouraged to go get help.”
This article was produced in partnership with National Veterans Intermediary, an initiative of the Bob Woodruff Foundation. NVI increases the collaborative capacity of local communities to steward a national ecosystem, in order to achieve optimal well-being for veterans and their families. Sign up for alerts about NVI’s free webinars and tools to support community-based collaboration here.
When service members separate or retire from the military, more than 45,000 nonprofits, thousands of public agencies, and countless other organizations and individuals aim to support their transitions back to civilian life. This series explores how communities across the country are collaborating across public, private, business, and social sectors to better connect the systems that serve veterans, by leveraging the principles of “collective impact.” The subjects featured are all members of National Veterans Intermediary (NVI) Local Partner collaboratives. Recent research shows that loneliness is a health risk factor for many. A 2018 study suggests that social connectedness may even protect veterans, for example, against developing symptoms of PTSD. Opportunities to connect, however, can be tough to find. It can be difficult for veterans to talk about their experiences, especially with people who have not shared them and may not understand. The social gap in connectivity and understanding between current and former members of the military community and their civilian counterparts is known as the “civilian-military divide,” and for many, it can represent the isolation of the veteran experience. Theater of War Productions is working to change that by using theater to bridge the divide and create opportunities for connection. Through dramatic readings of iconic plays, followed by candid discussions about themes related to service and reintegration, the 10-year-old company aims to help audiences gain a deeper understanding of the complex experiences that many of our nation’s veterans share. The company’s hallmark project, the eponymously named Theater of War (ToW) , is designed to increase awareness of the invisible wounds of war. Professional actors read ancient Greek dramas — long thought to have originated both as a storytelling medium and a form of communal therapy — to audiences comprised of service members, veterans, and civilians. The subject matter is intentionally weighty. In Sophocles’ “Ajax,” for example, a warrior of great strength and courage is betrayed by his kings and unjust gods, and ends up dying by suicide. “[These tragedies] are a way to talk about the utter horrors of war and the challenges that it brings,” said Lisa Feder-Feitel, who works at ToW to identify leaders, local organizations, libraries, schools and others to secure community panelists and fill the seats. Some of those hardships are obvious, like being separated from family. But military service can also lead to other challenging emotional experiences, including, as Feder-Feitel puts it, “feeling alone — even though you’re part of a system and a brotherhood.” The paradox of feeling isolated even in the presence of others is an experience familiar to many veterans, and one that ToW is directly addressing by building community conversations that include audiences that may not immediately see themselves as stakeholders in veterans’ wellness.
To expand its impact, ToW applies “collective impact” theory. This approach allows ToW to enlist a diverse network of organizations and government agencies in support of a goal related to one of its plays or conversations, and then coordinate activities to meet that goal. Jennifer Splansky Juster, executive director of the Collective Impact Forum, which supports those who adopt the approach, noted that relationship-building and effective communication are critical to the success of collective-impact models. “Building trust [means] the groups that are involved in collaborating are doing what they’re best at, and the sum is greater than its individual parts,” Juster said. In the case of ToW, that might translate to help from partnering government agencies and nonprofits — ranging from the Department of Defense to the USO — in getting the word out about performances, distributing free tickets, and transporting veterans to productions at military installations, hospitals, libraries, homeless shelters and public parks. ToW measures the impact of its productions through post-performance audience surveys, focus groups and impact-assessment studies conducted by outside evaluators. But the best metric may be that of the audience in the moment. “If you’re looking for impact, come into the room and watch what happens,” said Doerries. “Theater itself is a certain experience that pushes people into a different cognitive space.” Feder-Feitel keeps in touch with groups that attend ToW performances. Many ask to be invited to future events. “We want, in a very tiny way, to duplicate what Sophocles did,” Feder-Feitel said. “That is, create an opportunity for people to feel safe, to feel valued and to speak from their hearts about their different experiences. They go from here, knowing they’re part of a larger community.”
This article was produced in partnership with National Veterans Intermediary, an initiative of the Bob Woodruff Foundation. NVI increases the collaborative capacity of local communities to steward a national ecosystem, in order to achieve optimal well-being for veterans and their families. Sign up for alerts about NVI’s free webinars and tools to support community-based collaboration here.
When service members separate or retire from the military, more than 45,000 nonprofits, thousands of public agencies, and countless other organizations and individuals aim to support their transitions back to civilian life. This series explores how communities across the country are collaborating across public, private, business and social sectors to better connect the systems that serve veterans by leveraging the principles of “collective impact.” The subjects featured are all members of National Veterans Intermediary (NVI) Local Partner collaboratives. For many veterans, reintegrating into their communities after military service is challenging. Feelings of uncertainty can lead to isolation, and as many as one-third of veterans struggle with depression. It can be hard to reach out when help is needed. “[Veterans] might not know where to start to get help,” said Carlis Miller, a veteran of the US Marine Corps, who knows firsthand the difficulty of asking for support. Four years ago, Miller was in the middle of a painful divorce and had just finished grueling treatment for cancer. Not until the Houston native began volunteering for community service projects through the Mission Continues, a national nonprofit that encourages veterans to find new missions at home, did things begin to look up. His newfound drive to serve others “turned my life around,” said Miller, who was inspired to become a community leader for TMC. “My passion is to help others and let them know about this veteran community that now means so much to me.”
Today, Miller also serves on the board of National Veterans Intermediary’s “Local Partner” collaborative, Combined Arms, which connects Houston-area veterans with community-building activities and resources. He has also trained as a community leader through Leadership Houston. His participation in severalveteran-focused groups exemplifies the way these organizations work toward a common goal by sharing resources with each other along the way. It’s an approach known as “collective impact,” a commitment among a diverse network of organizations to collaborate in order to solve social problems. Collective impact means that organizations don’t have to compete to help veterans. Instead, “each organization does what it does best,” said Miller. “It’s not about all being the same. It’s about using our strengths to the best of our abilities.” Working alone, an organization is inherently limited in its ability to help veterans overcome barriers when transitioning back to civilian life. But when a nonprofit partners with like-minded groups, said Miller, “we have endless options for support.” “It’s really all about co-creating the future that we want to see and how we do that together,” said Jennifer Splansky Juster, executive director of the Collective Impact Forum, an initiative that supports the efforts of those who use this approach. To successfully reach their goals requires “building relationships, trust and communication across the different partners,” Juster added. Engaging community members, like Miller, who are deeply affected by the issues they’re trying to resolve is crucial — not only because their perspectives are important, but because they can help facilitate action, lead grassroots outreach and help sustain long-term change. And the more everyone works together, “the better we understand each other and how we can help each other out,” he added.
This article was produced in partnership with National Veterans Intermediary, an initiative of the Bob Woodruff Foundation. NVI increases the collaborative capacity of local communities to steward a national ecosystem, in order to achieve optimal well-being for veterans and their families. Sign up for alerts about NVI’s free webinars and tools to support community-based collaboration here.
A prison is the last place you might expect to hear a bark, but in three Texas correctional facilities, you’ll regularly hear barks, commands and the pitter-patter of paws. The Texas Department of Criminal Justice partnered with Patriot Paws, a nonprofit that pairs disabled veterans with service dogs. Before the dogs are paired with a vet, incarcerated individuals train them to learn basic service animal skills. The pairing between Patriot Paws and prisons is mutually beneficial. The trainers learn valuable life lessons and gain skills that can lead to career opportunities post-release, and the dogs learn how to care for a vet. Since starting the partnership in 2008, Patriot Paws has hired two formerly-incarcerated dog trainers. Meet one of the trainers and learn how you can get involved with Patriot Paws in the video above. More: People in Prisons Are Learning to Code — and It Might Alter the Course of Their Lives
Wearing a red, white and blue vest, Chief never leaves Aaron Mixell’s side. Mixell, an Army veteran, was paired with his service dog Chief through Patriot Paws, a nonprofit that trains and provides service dogs for disabled veterans. Chief can do everything from opening doors to comforting Mixell in moments of stress. Each year, Patriot Paws places between 10 and 15 dogs with veterans. Over the past 14 years, nearly 200 dogs have been trained and paired by the Texas-based group. It costs about $35,000 to train a dog, but the program is completely free for veterans. The nonprofit receives most of its funding through private donations and grants. Learn more about Patriot Paws and how you can help by watching the video above. More: 30% of Veterans Suffer From Ptsd. Science Says Yoga Will Help Them Heal
Brianna Renner had just given birth to her second daughter when she felt herself slipping into postpartum depression. Renner, who served in the Marines Corps for five years, was accustomed to serious life challenges, but her colicky infant’s nonstop tears left her feeling hopeless and alone. So she turned to the mat — her yoga mat, to be precise — and then things turned around. Renner rediscovered her mojo. “When I practiced yoga, it was the only time that I could actually be Brianna. I wasn’t a mom, I wasn’t a wife, I was just me on the mat,” Renner said. “And that was kind of beautiful and amazing.” Renner felt that she’d stumbled across something that could profoundly change the lives of people — specifically, her fellow service members — who had been through serious trauma, both physical and mental. So Renner googled “veterans” and “yoga” and found the Veterans Yoga Project. Intrigued, she read on and saw that the organization was hosting a trauma-yoga training in Arlington, Virginia. A couple of weeks later, Renner made the drive from her home in New Hampshire. “I drank the Kool-Aid,” she said, laughing. “Afterward, I talked to the executive director and told him, ‘I’m in, I’m sold. What can I do to help out?’” That was in 2014. Now Renner, who teaches yoga at a Veterans Affairs facility in White River Junction, Vermont, is Veterans Yoga Project’s director of programs. In that role, Renner manages all of VYP’s trainings, including their 15-hour free-for-veterans Mindful Resilience for Trauma Recovery training — one of which helped turn Matthew Adams’ life around. Adams served in the military for eight years. While in Iraq, an explosion threw him from a vehicle, leaving him with permanent physical problems. Upon discharge, he found himself in a dark place and subsequently “lost a couple of years in a bottle,” he told News Center Maine. Adams struggled with symptoms of PTSD before finding the mindfulness training program organized by VYP in Bangor, Maine. After his initial reluctance, Adams decided to attend, and he now credits the program, and yoga in general, with changing his life. “It really brought down the amount of pain I experienced in my back, it really calmed me down, helped me focus my mind and gain more control over my breathing,” he said. As a sufferer of PTSD, Adams is hardly alone. As many as 30% of former U.S. service members live with the crippling disorder. What’s more, roughly 20 veterans die by suicide every single day. And of those who have been diagnosed with PTSD — the symptoms of which include anxiety, depression, insomnia, uncontrollable anger and issues with addiction — only about half will ever seek treatment through the VA. Renner emphasized that yoga is not intended to replace other forms of treatment for PTSD, which typically include a combination of medication and exposure-based talk therapy. “Our program was designed specifically to be a part of a complementary practice, if you will, to therapy that may already be in place,” she said. “We work with yoga teachers and health clinicians to bring tools of mindful resilience to veterans and to their community.” So why yoga? Why not rugby or pole-vaulting or anything else that requires exertion and concentration? It has to do with how the body engages the brain during the practice of yoga, according to Daniel J. Libby, a Yale-trained clinical psychologist and a founder and executive director of VYP. “All traumatic events are defined by a lack of safety, predictability and control,” Libby said. “For someone who develops post-traumatic stress that perpetuates, the world continues to feel unsafe, unpredictable and uncontrollable, and my own mind and body are also unsafe, uncontrollable and unpredictable. As PTSD is a psycho-physiological condition, it only makes sense that a body-mind approach [like yoga] would be helpful.”
FROM BATTLE TO BUDDHA
It makes sense that yoga can increase flexibility and resilience. But on the face of it, active wartime combat and sun salutations hardly seem simpatico. Part of it is yoga’s image problem, Renner said. “There is a huge stigma around the word ‘yoga,’ and I can remember 20 years ago when I went to my first class, I fell right into that stigma,” she said. “I’m like, this is not for me. I’m a badass Marine, I’m not doing yoga!” But it soon became clear to her that there was much more to the practice than nice leggings and Instagram-worthy visits to exotic ashrams. “You can still be a badass in uniform and have balance in your life. You don’t have to be super-hardcore all the time, because you can’t live in that place of hardcore-ness all the time.” In 2018 alone, VYP documented more than 20,000 visits by veterans, said Renner (classes are always free for veterans; some are open to their spouses and children, too). Currently, VYP has over 120 national volunteers who chip in to teach yoga and help run the organization. In addition, VYP hosts an annual Veterans Gratitude Week, where thousands of civilians and veterans come together in studios across the country to practice yoga “with an attitude of gratitude for our service members,” Libby said. All proceeds benefit VYP (this year’s event will take place from Nov. 8–18). Despite the increasing numbers of vets taking up yoga, some people argue that those who practice it are a self-selecting group. In other words, a veteran who elects to take a yoga class might already be open to the kind of change a regular yoga practice can engender. Dianne Groll, an associate professor and research director at Queen’s University’s Department of Psychiatry in Ontario, is one of them. “Who does [yoga] work for, and for how long?” she said. “It works really well for the people who like it, and are well enough to do it.” Groll, whose husband is in the Canadian Armed Forces, co-authored a 2016 paper that examined the impact of a 12-week yoga program on members of the Canadian military who self-identified as having experienced at least one traumatic event while serving. The results for this group showed statistically significant improvements in their levels of anger, anxiety, pain and quality of sleep compared to those who did not participate in the program. Moreover, individuals “who met the PTSD screening criteria showed significantly greater improvement than those who did not.” Groll added that there were significant obstacles in conducting the study — people with PTSD sometimes find it difficult to commit to a regularly scheduled class, and about 20% of the participants had dropped out before the three-month study concluded. But as Groll pointed out, the bar to entry for yoga is low, so why not give it a shot? “Yoga is relatively cheap. It can be done pretty much anywhere, and a lot of people seem to benefit from it,” Groll said. “And there was a significant increase in people’s mood and a decrease in anxiety [among vets who participated in the study], so we should find out why people quit practicing yoga and encourage them to keep going.”
PSEUDOSCIENCE … OR NEUROSCIENCE?
Deb Jeannette teaches yoga at a VA Medical Center on Long Island. Her son spent 11 years in the Marines, part of it on deployment to Afghanistan as a helicopter pilot. “I was constantly having to worry about his safety, and dealing with that trauma of being in a situation where there was no control,” she said. Then she found the Veterans Yoga Project. Despite a lack of control over her son’s well-being, she realized, “I also had my yoga. I could roll out my mat. I could do the breaths. I could do the work. I could do the meditation. I could remember to live moment by moment, because that’s all we have.” Jeannette is now president of VYP’s board of directors, as well as New York’s regional director. Jeannette said that VYP teachers track statistical improvements in participants via something called a SUDS sheet, which stands for Subjective Units of Distress Scale. She said that of the vets who attended a VYP class in 2018, 80% to 90% experienced a reduction in stress. “And that’s without drugs,” Jeannette added. The science backs her up. Emily Hawken is a postdoctoral neuroscience fellow at Queen’s University who has spent the past six years investigating the effects of “things you do to your body as it pertains to the cellular and molecular structure of the brain.” When it comes to trauma, the prevailing theory is that the body falls “out of homeostasis,” which produces all of the symptoms associated with PTSD. A “learned” controlled breathing, like the kind that undergirds yoga, changes the heart rate and modulates the vagus nerve, which collects info from all of our organs and peripheral nervous system and feeds it back into our brains. This increases heart rate variability and modulates some key neurotransmitters in the brain, specifically GABA, which researchers suspect boosts mood and has a calming effect on the nervous system. In other words, controlled breathing “keeps things quiet” in the brain. “It’s mostly the breathwork that is the real driver of any sort of impact [from practicing yoga] we are going to see in the brain — at least, that’s the hypothesis,” Hawken said. “But there’s evidence to support it.” For VYP founder Libby, proof of yoga’s significant impact on reducing PTSD symptoms is made real by every veteran who completes a yoga course. “I hear so many stories about veterans who are turning their lives around,” Libby said. “Veterans telling us that they leave class in less pain than when they arrived; that they leave class with less stress than when they arrived. And that they are finding meaning and purpose and a life worth living.” More: This Inspiring Former Inmate Teaches Yoga In An Unlikely Spot
Ali Taylor never would have guessed that the end of her husband’s military career would prompt her to try improv: The last time she attempted any type of acting was as a middle-school theater student. But there she was, at a five-day event held at Joint Base Pearl Harbor-Hickam near Honolulu for wounded Air Force members and their caregivers, learning the core improv concept of “Yes, and,” and realizing it now applied to her life. Her husband, Staff Sgt. Brandon Cipolla, had recently been admitted to theAir Force Wounded Warrior Program due to service-related injuries, including post-traumatic stress disorder, chronic migraine headaches, and a shoulder injury requiring several surgeries. Taylor had been appointed his caregiver as part of the program, yet was still working full-time as an executive chef at Mississippi State University in Starkville, Miss. “There’s not a lot of smiling and laughing when you’re in a situation like we are,” Taylor said. When Cipolla applied to attend the CARE event (which encompasses all of the Air Force Wounded Warrior Program’s areas of support) to prepare for his upcoming medical retirement and transition, Taylor wasn’t sure what to expect. However, she looked forward to a brief respite from their daily routine, as well as the opportunity to find support and camaraderie from others in the same position. Each day, while Cipolla participated in mock interviews and worked on other job-search skills, Taylor took classes, including financial planning and navigating the military’s insurance programs. At night, she immersed herself in improv workshops, one of several offerings (along with more traditional choices like yoga, journaling, and painting) designed to help participants. Though all workshops are optional, the program encourages caregivers and injured service members to attend as part of their path back to wellness.
While improv specifically may seem a surprising choice for those struggling to transition to life after injury, it’s now part of the resiliency programming the Air Force offers its Wounded Warriors (the term the United States Armed Forces uses to describe injured service members) and their caregivers. Aaron Moffett, Ph.D., a sports psychologist who runs the resiliency program, noted that the resiliency workshops take a holistic approach to teaching life skills. With improv, “it’s really a communication skill,” he explained. “You have to listen to your partner and think quickly: ‘How does what I’m doing relate to what that person just said, and how do I communicate back to that person?’” The tone is set on the very first day by retired Staff Sgt. and Air Force medic BJ Lange, an actor and comedian who developed the curriculum and launched the improv workshops last year. Lange makes a point of letting participants know that he’s not there as a military training instructor, but as someone who’s committed to helping them have fun on their path toward healing. Lange starts off by sharing his own story: His traumatic brain injury, two bouts with testicular cancer, struggles with depression and anxiety, and his own participation in the Air Force Wounded Warrior Program. “When my cancer returned, I found myself getting deeper and deeper into depression,” he said. “I had to look back at all of these things I had been teaching for so long about facing my fear.” In creating the program, Lange looked to the research and overall approach ofapplied improv, where collaborative exercises are used as a tool for personal or professional growth. While improved listening skills, problem solving, and thinking outside the box are all benefits of the program, one of the most important takeaways is the chance for participants to be with others who are facing similar struggles – and to have fun. “Teambuilding, camaraderie, and trust in one another: These are all things that can be broken when you’re going through heavy mental and physical adversity,” Lange explained. “I don’t teach the warriors and their caregivers how to be funny; I don’t teach them how to perform. I teach them how to use these skills [and] how they can use them to rebuild their lives.” But it’s not always fun, laughter and games. At one workshop when everyone was lying on the ground at the start of a new scene, Lange recalled that the setup “looked like dead bodies,” to one of the wounded service members. When flashbacks like this happen, Lange stops the action. The group took time to discuss the participant’s observation and talk about other possible ways to view the scenario before moving forward. Participants often become more comfortable over the course of the week, whether it’s being able to open up about their stories or even just make eye contact, which can be a struggle for those who have suffered trauma. “We talk a lot about interpersonal skills,” Lange said. “[When you retreat] into your head – from depression, anxiety or a TBI – you look down a lot.” For some, it’s about being able to tap into what it’s like to feel happy again. Lange recalled one participant who had sustained a traumatic brain injury during his service in Afghanistan and rarely spoke, relying on his wife to communicate for him. At the end of the week, she told Lange that her husband’s participation in the improv workshops was the first time she’d seen him smile since his injury. This year, Lange expects to teach workshops around the country and in Germany as part of the Air Force Wounded Warrior Program’s CARE events. With about 8,000 participants in the program (not including caregivers), he knows he won’t be able to reach all of them. But for those who have taken his workshop, like Taylor, the skills are ones that carry over into their daily lives, whether it’s honing the flexibility to work with a new situation or being open to finding some humor in it. “The concept of ‘Yes, and’ is that you work with what you’ve been given: You carry on and keep going,” says Taylor, whose husband recently took a new job requiring them to relocate to Olympia, Wash. “That’s our marriage.”
More: A Hurricane Demolished My City. My Military Experience Is Helping Me Rebuild It.