Emotional Support Animals Are Not Service Animals. Here’s Why It Matters

It’s Monday in the office, and I’m on a mission to see if the mouse that continues to eat its way through my pantry can be registered as an emotional support animal. After all, it has been more effective in cutting carbs from my diet than weekly therapy.
Within five minutes of searching online, I found that if I paid $164 to one company, it would provide me with a “disability assessment and treatment recommendation letter.” This letter would allow me to position the mouse — yes, my pest — as an emotional support animal. For another $75, I could get a letter that would make it possible for me to take the tiny rodent with me on a plane for a year, no questions asked.
It’s schemes like these, along with a number of viral-worthy posts claiming peacocks and iguanas as emotional support animals, that have made the use of emotional support animals (ESAs), well, eyebrow-raising.
As a result, people who game the system to get free flights for their pets are being scrutinized more frequently — and that’s not good news for those with actual disabilities.
I had to fight for my right to have my ESA everywhere I applied for housing. It was extremely difficult dealing with housing managers who simply had been scammed so many times,” Karen Ann Young, a blind woman with PTSD who has been using a seeing eye dog along with her ESA for 33 years, tells NationSwell. “It took so long to find an apartment [because] landlords have been overrun with tenants claiming their pets are emotional support animals.”
Here are a few things you need to know about service animals, the controversy surrounding ESAs, and what’s being done to stem the rising tide of fraudulent support and service animals.

What is an ESA?

In order for an animal to be considered “of service,” the Americans with Disabilities Act requires the animal to be trained to provide a specific task — seeing eye dogs, for example.
By law, most public places are required to allow service animals. Shop owners are allowed to ask someone using a service animal two questions: “Is the animal required because of a disability?” and “What has the animal been trained to do?”
It’s a completely different set of requirements, though, for ESAs, which are regulated under the Fair Housing Act and Air Carrier Access Act. Typically, you must have a legitimate mental diagnosis and an ESA deemed necessary by a licensed psychotherapist, before your pet can fly for free (and not in the cargo hold).
But those seemingly legitimate rules have created a cottage industry for online certifications, bogus treatment letters and even online shops via Amazon that sell support animal gear.
As a result, pigs can fly. And that’s a growing problem.

Service Animal 1
Many veterans find relief from PTSD through emotional support dogs, but there’s no conclusive evidence that animals effectively treat the disorder.

How ESAs turned airline travel into a nuisance

In January this year, Dexter the peacock made its owner famous after she was denied entry to her flight from Newark to Los Angeles when she claimed the bird was an ESA. And earlier this month, Southwest Airlines announced they would start allowing miniature horses on planes. (Miniature horses are recognized as service animals under the ADA.)
But many are saying “neigh” to the idea of expanding the definition of support in this context, partially because it’s feared that the ESA trend is getting out of control.
It’s difficult to know how many ESAs there are in the nation — there is no central database or oversight in terms of how such animals are registered — but airlines track the number of support animals they fly every year, which gives us some idea. Delta Airlines found that since 2015, it has flown over 250,000 service and support animals — an increase of 150 percent.
Another study found that registration for assistance dogs in California increased by 1,000 percent between 2002 and 2012. And that number is likely to rise, as Americans age and start requiring more canine support.  
“It is likely we will see more dramatic increases in the number of adults with a disability as the baby boomer population [ages] over the next 20 years,” Chad Helmick with the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention told Anything Pawsible, a trade publication covering service animals.

Are ESAs effective?

One in five Americans deal with mental illness in a given year, and given the massive media pick up on animals helping us deal with trauma or stress, you’d think that a small furry creature — such as a hungry mouse — could represent cheap and easy therapy.
Not so much, it seems.
The science is still out on ESAs being truly effective for treating those with trauma, depression or anxiety.
Dogs, for example, have been found to help veterans with PTSD. Adopting furry animals has shown to help reduce stockbrokers’ blood pressure, and a review published this past February found that pets did, indeed, help those with mental health conditions.
But almost all of the studies that demonstrate the efficacy of pet therapy also come with a big caveat: there needs to be more research on the subject. Moreover, there is nothing conclusive to show that animals actually help more than just being cute, cuddly and generally happiness inducing.
“Despite media headlines extolling the curative powers of dolphins, dogs, horses and Guinea pigs, there is little evidence of the long-term effectiveness of emotional support animals for the treatment of mental problems,” writes Hal Herzog, a psychologist who analyzes relationships between humans and animals, for Psychology Today. “Indeed, it is possible that they can sometimes have an enabling function which actually prolongs an individual’s psychological issues.”

Airlines and states are fighting back

Because airlines are on the front lines of the ESA debate, private companies like Delta Airlines and JetBlue have created higher standards for flying with animals, such as providing proof of need through a therapist’s note and giving 48 hours notice to review animals being taken on board.
The change in policy — outside the dramatic increase in ESAs being used in travel — was implemented because of “incidents involving emotional support animals that haven’t been adequately trained to behave in a busy airport or the confined space of an aircraft,” reads JetBlue’s policy.
But states have also taken action in order to curb the trend.
Last year, the state of Washington passed a law that makes misrepresenting a pet as a service animal a civil infraction with a $500 fine. A similar law was passed in Arizona this year that also fines fraudulent service animals’ owners.
But such laws can create problems for people who rely on legitimate service animals. Some argue that the new legislation doesn’t adequately address poorly behaved non-disabled people and their pets, but rather opens up harassment for people who actually depend on their animals to help them lead normal lives.  
Perhaps a better solution is one that is less punitive than regulatory, like a nationally recognized identification system, where both dogs and trainers must pass testing and be recertified every few years — something not currently mandated under the ADA.
And though I might want to justify my use of an ESA mouse to cut back on my intake of Wonder Bread, I think it’s likely best to just stick with traditional diet and exercise.

How to Talk to Teenagers About Suicide

In the aftermath of two high-profile suicides and a Centers for Disease Control and Prevention report that showed suicide rates have risen 25 percent since 1999, the question is more urgent than ever: How do you talk about suicide with someone who is severely depressed?
The problem is particularly pronounced among young people, with suicide the second leading cause of death in 2015 for those between the ages of 10 and 24. A recent study published by the Journal of Pediatrics found that one in five California teens actively think about killing themselves, leading public health professionals to advocate treating suicide as a systemic problem rather than a personal one.  
“Instead of changing individuals, we have the ability to take a public health approach and treat settings by bringing fixes and resources to groups,” says study co-author Ron Avi Astor, a professor at University of Southern California’s School of Social Work. He found that the percentage of students who thought about suicide ranged from the low single digits to upward of 70 percent, and depended largely on the school setting.  
Until there’s a greater societal shift, however, what’s the best way to reach someone who’s thinking of suicide? We asked Astor for advice on identifying, and confronting, young people who may be harboring suicidal thoughts.

DON’T BE AFRAID TO SAY THE ‘S’ WORD

A big myth is that by talking about suicide with someone, you are planting the seed or promoting the action. That’s false.
“It’s important to know you can’t trigger suicidal thinking just by asking about it,” Allen Doederlein of the Depression and Bipolar Support Alliance, recently told The New York Times.
Astor agrees — especially when it comes to teenagers, who are remarkably open, he says. He notes that teens who have thought about suicide will likely be honest about it. Specifically, he says, “you want to know if they’ve thought about how to do it — if they haven’t given much thought about it versus thinking about … a time and a place.”
The more detailed they are, the more urgent it is to get them help.
“It’s very difficult to ask, but if the person has made attempts — even if they’re not strong attempts — all those factors bump it up.”

DON’T GUILT THEM INTO LIVING

When trying to convince someone not to take their life, a common go-to is to mention all the people they’d be leaving behind. “Just think of your family,” you might be tempted to say. But try to resist that urge.
“It’s important not to make someone’s suicidality about yourself or others. They’re the person who’s hurting, so the focus needs to be on their feelings, their thoughts, and finding them help,” wrote suicide survivor Sian Ferguson.
Guilting people by mentioning who would miss them only exacerbates the problem. Instead, experts recommend simply telling them how much you care about them and showing empathy by acknowledging the truth of their situation. Express to them that, yes, right now sucks, and what they’re feeling is real.

REACH OUT TO THEIR FRIENDS, TOO

In his research, Astor found that someone’s friends often have a better idea of what is going on with them than their parents or teachers do.
To that end, Astor suggests speaking with the friends of someone you think might be at risk. Oftentimes, he says, they are also harboring suicidal ideation in a type of groupthink and can help shed light on underlying issues.

HELP THEM GET HELP

If you know a teenager is, in fact, having suicidal thoughts, seek help immediately.
The Society for Prevention of Teen Suicide recommends first seeing a pediatrician, who can refer you to a mental health professional, and the American Academy of Pediatrics notes that “pediatricians are, and will continue to be, an important first source for parents who are worried about their child’s behavioral problems.”
When trying to get someone to agree to see a therapist or psychiatrist, don’t try and force them, say experts. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be blunt and level with them.
Try to make the optimistic assumption that if you could speak directly, though tactfully, and with care, then that might bring relief,” said Stephen Seligman, a clinical psychiatry professor at the University of California.

SHOW UP AND BE PRESENT

The best advice many experts give, though, is just to show up, ask questions and listen carefully to their response.
There is a lot to say about opening up the conversation and letting someone else — even angsty teens — know that things can get better with the right help.

For more information on how to help your teen or to speak to a specialist, visit the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline or call 1-800-273-8255. For more tips on speaking to your teen about suicide, visit the Society for the Prevention of Teen Suicide.

For Many Female Vets, Healing From Trauma Starts With the Eyes

When her Humvee was hit by a roadside bomb in Iraq in 2008, former Army Sgt. First Class Elana Duffy was tossed around the front seat like a football, which resulted in a brain injury. For years afterward, she couldn’t shake the raw, negative emotions that slowly ate away at her. It simply never occurred to her that the impact to her brain would eventually erode her mental well-being too.
“I realized that I was kinda angry, but I wasn’t acknowledging it,” Duffy, 37, says. “I just thought I was processing things differently.”
Until 2012, Duffy worked in military intelligence. As an interrogator in Iraq, she extracted information from her subjects — some of whom were directly responsible for the deaths of her fellow soldiers — and often had to befriend them. Doing so was emotionally challenging, and after her head injury the stress of it all soon engulfed her.
“Everything, I thought, was ultimately related to a physical problem, and I didn’t really want to confront it,” she says.
She’s not unique in this situation. A recent report concluded that nearly half of post-9/11 veterans aren’t accessing the mental care they need. And women, who make up about 15 percent of the active-duty force, are suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder at a higher rate than in previous conflicts. Current estimates put the number of female veterans experiencing some form of depression or anxiety at one-half to one-third. What’s more, another one in five report being the victims of military sexual trauma (MST).

Army Sgt. First Class Elana Duffy (left) and the Humvee she was in (right) when a roadside bomb went off, resulting in her brain injury.

There are a host of methods to treat such veterans, like cognitive processing therapy and exposure therapy. These psychotherapies, while medically sound, can require a patient be in treatment for months, if not years. Contrast that with the use of a technique called eye movement desensitization and reprocessing, or EMDR, whose adherents say can rehabilitate combat veterans with PTSD in fewer sessions.
Duffy, who suffered from apoplexy, or cerebral hemorrhaging, was introduced to the practice at Headstrong, a treatment program in New York City dedicated to serving post-9/11 vets. Headstrong specializes in EMDR, which uses eye movements to alleviate the stress of a traumatic event. While closely tracking the rapid back-and-forth finger movements of a therapist (or other side-to-side stimulation), the patient holds in his or her mind the disturbing event and the negative memories associated with it.
No one knows exactly how EMDR works, but it seems to affect the way the brain processes information, including the source of a patient’s PTSD. After successful treatment, the patient can still recall the event, of course, but she’s able to recognize it in a less debilitating way.
The theory behind EMDR, which has been around since the late 1980s but only gained acceptance as a treatment for veterans in the past 15 years, comes from what we know about sleeping. During deep sleep, our eyes move quickly from left to right in a process called rapid eye movement. REM helps our brains metabolize information gathered throughout the day and lets go of whatever it doesn’t need.

Though the treatment has been widely supported by multiple studies, it’s not without criticism. A 2013 meta-analysis of prior EMDR studies, published in the journal Military Behavioral Health, concluded that it “[failed] to support the effectiveness of EMDR in treating PTSD in the military population.” The Department of Veterans Affairs — which, along with the Department of Defense, recommends the treatment — takes a more balanced approach, stating, “Although EMDR is an effective treatment for PTSD, there is disagreement about [if] it works. Some research shows that the back and forth movement is an important part of treatment, but other research shows the opposite.”
For Duffy, EMDR was the lifesaver she almost turned down.
“‘I don’t like psyches,’” she remembers saying of psychiatrists, after a clinician recommended she try EMDR at Headstrong. “I flat out told him, ‘I don’t trust them, I don’t like them. So I can’t promise you that I’m going to follow through with this.’”
But she did. And three years later, she swears by the clinic’s EMDR therapy in helping her manage her stress and anger.
Keeping all veterans, both women and men, in treatment is its own battle. A report by the RAND Institute found that the number of follow-up appointments given to veterans is insufficient to help manage PTSD, which leads many to give up on medical care altogether.
“The military sets up a therapy structure that’s so dysfunctional,” says Dr. Laurie Deckard, chief clinical officer for the all-female veteran treatment center 5Palms in Ormond Beach, Florida. She knows this firsthand: When she worked at Fort Stewart in Georgia, she routinely saw 10 service members in the morning alone, each getting only 20 minutes of therapy. “There is no way to do PTSD treatment in 20-minute sessions.”
But as more mental health professionals embrace EMDR for treating veterans, the calculation of how long it takes to rehabilitate them is changing.
Duffy, who once balked at the idea of psychotherapy, now says, “I don’t have to be a tough guy anymore. I don’t have to be this miserable.”
Editors’ note: Headstrong was co-founded by Zach Iscol, who is also a member of the NationSwell Council. This was brought to our attention after publication. Neither Headstrong nor the NationSwell Council paid for this article.
Correction: A previous version of this article identified Headstrong as a clinic. NationSwell apologizes for the error.

Marriage Equality Happened, But LGBTQ Youth Still Face Acceptance Struggles. Not Here

At least four days a week, Qing, a 24-year-old black gay man, buzzes into an unassuming, century-old high-rise near New York University in lower Manhattan. Squished between an upscale fitness center and a Lebanese eatery, the building’s double glass doors are blank. Its dimly lit hallway appears to lead to a freight elevator. The only clue to what’s inside is a modest sign over the entrance, identifying it as “The Hetrick-Martin Institute.”
When the elevator doors open onto the third floor, the building’s drab exterior falls away like Dorothy’s first Technicolor step into Oz. Here, at the Institute (or HMI, for short), the walls are splashed with rainbow murals, a pointed reference to its work helping New York City’s gay youth. Qing comes here to work on his freelance fashion designs, eat a hot dinner at its cafe and participate in group discussions like “In the Clear” on Tuesdays, where homeless youth share tips on steering clear of rain and snow, or “Neutral Grounds” on Thursday, which focuses on HIV (for kids both positive and negative) and the stigma surrounding the disease.
“Most of the time, if I need a safe space to go to, a place to digress, just to feel cared for and loved, I will always come to HMI,” he tells NationSwell, sitting in a classroom at HMI.

Qing’s main interest is in fashion design, but he comes to the Hetrick-Martin Institute to take advantage of its various resources.

The son of a“deadbeat dad” that was in and out of prison and didn’t “want to change or help himself,” Qing (who asked that his last name not be used), grew up in rough part of the Washington, D.C., area, with his mother and sisters. Homeless for a five-year period, Qing drifted through eight different schools by the time he reached eighth grade. “Sometimes I feel like I’m destined to be like my dad,” he worries before adding, “I use my past as my motivation.”
Qing left his family in Virginia to pursue his fashion and design dreams in the Big Apple. As a child, he escaped life’s commotion by sewing or sketching outfits. “I want to have my own fashion house one day,” he says. “They have an open studio [at HMI], which I can’t find anywhere else. The space, the materials, the proper tools are there to use: my mannequins, fabric, pattern paper.” Recently, he painted, glittered and bedazzled a shoe to turn it into a flower pot. He shipped it home as a gift for his mom.
“Here at HMI, I actually learned how I am more, how I want to be. I came to understand that I live in color and that I don’t have this monotone life, I guess. We always learn to walk in your truth. I practice that every day — being more authentic — like myself all the time,” he says. When visiting certain New York City neighborhoods, like Harlem, people would stare at Qing. “Now, they respond differently. If you show that you respect yourself and love yourself, they will treat you the same way.”
Bathrooms outside of HMI’s counseling center. HMI creates a safe and supportive environment in which LGBTQ youth, ages 13 to 24, can reach their full potential.

The Hetrick-Martin Institute was founded in 1979 when Dr. Emery Hetrick, a psychiatrist, and his partner, NYU professor Dr. Damien Martin, heard about a 15-year-old runaway who was beaten and tossed out of a group home because of his sexuality. Outraged, they mobilized advocates and welcomed LGBTQ (lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and questioning) youth into their West Village living room. (The organization, formerly the Institute for the Protection of Lesbian and Gay Youth, was renamed in their honor when both died from AIDS.)
“It was a very different planet. This was a time when ‘homosexuality’ was in the same paragraph as mental retardation in the [American Medical Association] Journal,” says Thomas Krever, HMI’s CEO, a native New Yorker who previously ran gang intervention programs in Brooklyn and knows firsthand what it’s like to be young and gay. He praises recent significant gains, but acknowledges that homosexuals are still a long way from equality. (For instance, you can read national headlines about a judge in Utah who took a 1-year-old girl away from her lesbian foster mothers, how Houston voters rejected an ordinance protecting gays from discrimination or the latest on Kim Davis, the Kentucky clerk who became a poster child for Christian conservatives for denying marriage licenses to gays. Even in the liberal mecca of New York City, slurs are hurled at same-sex couples walking in Central Park.) And as Krever points out, “I can get married on Sunday and fired on Monday in more states than not.”
Lockers decorated by HMI participants. The Institute is open six days a week for a hot meal, counseling, art classes, clothing, toiletries and other services and needs.

HMI has sometimes been pigeonholed as an after-school program for gay youth, but Krever articulates a much more comprehensive vision, inspired by Hetrick and Martin’s initial outreach. At its location on Astor Place, which it co-inhabits with Harvey Milk High School, a public transfer school for kids who were bullied at other schools, HMI wants to create a safe space for 13- to 24-years-olds to be who they are, “where they can get information that is accurate, maybe meet somebody that looks like themselves and has a similar history and experience the rites of passage that this population doesn’t have,” Krever says. (“I know for myself, at high school prom, I was dancing with my [female] date but staring longingly at the boy I had a crush on,” he says.) “It doesn’t mean teaching them fear and how to deny who they are, but how to navigate a system that is not tolerant and accepting,” Krever adds. Through discussion groups, career readiness classes, health programs, academic enrichment and extracurriculars, HMI encourages the 2,000 youth who come through their doors annually to thrive. In the process, it may also shift the opinions of hundreds of thousands of others who witness the teenagers’ successes.
The pantry at HMI offers free clothing, toiletries, condoms, and laundry facilities to any visiting young person.

Like the wraparound model at Harlem Children’s Zone, HMI focuses its work on the young person as a whole, addressing homelessness, substance use and risky sexual behavior as symptoms of underlying trauma, rather than as isolated problems. Five counselors provide rigorous therapy for LGBTQ kids who are struggling with their sense of self or are frustrated by feelings of repression and a thwarted desire for certain social interactions.
“Through those double doors in the counseling wing, you have young people that are literally in crisis, with therapists and social workers who are getting at complex trauma and a history of mental health issues,” says Rofofsky.
A typical session might start with a young person revealing his desire to come out to his parents. A counselor will respond, “How about the goal is not whether you’re going to come out or not, but why don’t we explore all the areas in your life that could be safe or unsafe?” As the conversation unfolds, they might explore the details of what coming out would look like at home, in the neighborhood and in the classroom. Often, the teenager may indicate other issues. Worries about a parent getting physically violent upon the revelation of their sexuality, for instance, might lead to more sessions about any underlying childhood abuse.
Kahdija, 21, works on a painting with one of the teaching artists at HMI.

Some discussions happen in a group setting, like the ones that Qing attends, or through an art therapy class, which 21-year-old Kahdija, a straight ally from Brooklyn, enjoys. Kahdija first heard about HMI from her older sister, who came out as bisexual. She was scared and unsure of what to expect when she first took the elevator up, but she walked in and found a lot of “very flamboyant” guys all dancing. “I’m here everyday, even on Saturday,” she says. “Yesterday, I stayed at school to finish up work and I kept looking up at the clock to see if I had time to make it to HMI.” When NationSwell visited HMI, Kahdija was finishing up a painting of a snake, refining the colors so that the reptile’s skin was dark with shade in all the right places.
Kahdija says participating in discussions has already changed her viewpoints. A few blocks from where she lives in Flatbush, she once saw a transgender woman harassed by a man yelling obscenities. Kahdija, across the street, watched in horror, but remained silent. After spending time at HMI, she’s now ashamed by her inaction. If she were faced with the same scenario today, she says she’d tell the guys off and suggest the woman go inside where she’d be safe.
Kahdija shows off her painting of her pet snake, which she worked on for several weeks at HMI.

It’s precisely that kind of leadership and understanding of the challenges faced by LGBTQ youth that Krever wants to see. He still vividly remembers his first months on the job in 2003, when members of the Westboro Baptist Church (who hold the infamous “God Hates Fags” signs) planned a protest outside the Institute’s doors to mark the start of the school year. Exiting the nearby subway station, Krever heard a roar and his stomach dropped in fear. He turned the corner to discover that the noise came from more than 500 supporters who had made a human chain to allow safe passage for the kids. “It’s how I knew I was at the right place and at the right time,” he recounts tearfully in his office. “I long for the day when it’s not a big deal when another CEO says he’s gay,” Krever says. Today’s not that day, but with HMI’s work, it can’t be far off.

A Dying Grandmother Takes One Last Stroll With the Help of This Incredible Invention

Most people think of virtual reality as video games. But as the touching video below shows, virtual reality can also be a useful tool to help improve the quality of someone’s life.
As The Rift Arcade reports, video game artist Priscilla Firstenberg sent a note to Oculus VR, the Irvine, California-based developers behind the Oculus Rift, to help fulfill her terminally ill grandmother’s wish to go outside again. A virtual reality headset, the Oculus Rift is the company’s first product and is currently in development after a successful Kickstarter campaign.
For Priscilla’s cancer-stricken grandmother, Roberta, the 3D headset gave her the chance to stroll along a sunny Tuscan village right from her own home. Her reactions are nothing short of amazing—she describes touching butterflies, hearing the sounds of the beach and seagulls, and looking at all the beautiful colors.
“It’s just like dropping into a mirage, dropping straight down into a bubble of new life. It’s beautiful,” she says in the video.
MORE: Sorry Kids: The Rise of Virtual Learning Might Mean the End of Snow Days
But it was the simple action of walking up the stairs that Roberta found the most awe-inspiring. “Her favorite part was just being able to walk up and down the stairs again of the villa in the Tuscany demo,” Priscilla told The Rift Arcade. “I guess we take a lot of things for granted.”
Using the Oculus Rift’s version of Google Street View, Roberta was even able to take a virtual stroll and see an old snap of herself standing with her beloved pet dog.
Unfortunately, about four weeks after her first use of the Oculus, Roberta’s condition took a turn for the worse and she passed away. However, Roberta’s story is a reminder of the incredible possibilities of virtual reality, especially beyond entertainment purposes and video gaming.
As she says in the video, virtual reality can be a real form of therapy: “You can be in pain like I have pain but somehow when you see a blue butterfly reach out to kiss you…it makes you realize that we all are part of this world and this world is very precious to us.”
[ph]

When Vets Come Home: 5 Things You Should Say (and 5 Things You Shouldn’t)

If you’ve ever stopped or stuttered midsentence when talking to a vet recently home from war, you wouldn’t be alone. Not knowing what to say to returning soldiers is a common struggle says Mike Liguori, a former Marine who served during the Iraq War and is now director of community at Unite US, an online platform that connects current and former military members and their families.
Well-intentioned friends and family members may say something that actually increases stress or negative emotions: Post-traumatic stress disorder, or PTSD, affects up to 20 percent of veterans of the Iraq and Afghanistan wars, according to the Department of Veterans Affairs. With no official blueprint on how best to help military members ease back into civilian life, we surveyed a range of vets and experts to tell us what’s helpful — or hurtful — for vets to hear from loved ones.
MORE: Bravery After Battle—How This Navy SEAL Uses His War Wounds to Help Fellow Soldiers
 

What Not to Say

 

1. Don’t ask if they’ve killed anyone.

“It’s a frighteningly difficult question to answer for a lot of reasons,” says Army veteran Nate Rawlings, 32, who served two tours in Iraq. “It perpetuates a stereotype that all combat is shooting at bad guys and blowing things up. The truth is that combat involves long periods of boredom, anxiety and anticipation, punctuated by bursts of action many people would rather not discuss with family and friends, let alone strangers. Most veterans, at least for me, and most of the ones I know and have talked to, aren’t prepared to answer that question when they come home. Give them a pass — if they want to tell you, they might do so, in their own good time.”

2. Don’t tread too gently around vets because you assume everyone has experienced trauma.

“There’s no need to coddle vets,” says Amber Barno, a former OH-58D Kiowa Warrior helicopter pilot who served in both Iraq and Afghanistan. “There’s this stigma that people need to watch what they say, and frankly, veterans get annoyed at over concern. Veterans come out with priceless skill sets, as well as experience — ask about that experience, what it was like to serve their country.”
Daniel Gade, 39, an active lieutenant colonel in the Army and a professor at the United States Military Academy, West Point, says it’s important not to assume that all returning service members have PTSD or emotional problems just because they’ve served, even if they’ve served in direct fire combat. “One of the problems in society is our mentality of extremes — that veterans are maimed and need to be treated with kid gloves or that they’re all heroes,” he says. “Most of them are neither heroes nor victims, so treating them as normal human beings would be very useful.”

3. Don’t ask them to put difficult experiences behind them.

Being impatient is never helpful, warns Edna Foa, a clinical psychology professor at the University of Pennsylvania. “Don’t say things like, ‘Well, you’re back here. Iraq or Afghanistan is behind you — there are no dangers here, so put that all behind you,’” she says. If the returning soldier has PTSD, it’s a disorder. “It’s not up to a patient’s will to get over it.”

4. Don’t snap — even if they snap.

“Don’t take things personally if they don’t want to talk about something,” says William Hansen, 46, who has served as a truck commander and squad leader in Saudi Arabia, Iraq and Egypt with the Army. “It’s not about you, or your relationship. It takes five to six months for a person back from combat to get their bearings about them. So act natural toward them, act human. Many vets are struggling with what to say, and a lot of times they’ll say the wrong things at the wrong time. If you snap, they’ll stop talking — and stop reaching out.”

5. Don’t describe their experience for them.

“Avoid judgmental comments, like, ‘What you had to do was awful,’” says Capt. Wanda Finch, a division chief and program manager at the Defense Centers of Excellence for Psychological Health and Traumatic Brain Injury. Finch is also a representative for the Real Warriors Campaign, a multimedia public awareness effort designed to encourage help-seeking behavior among service members, veterans and their families. “You might think it’s sympathetic, but we want to stay away from taglines like, ‘War is hell,’ or other clichés.”

What to Say

 

1. Ask before throwing a welcome-home party.

“When they’re ready, or even before they return, ask how they would feel about a small, welcome-home gathering of close friends,” says Jamie Lynn De Coster, 31, who deployed to the Arabian Gulf, South China Sea, Iraq and Afghanistan, among other places, with the U.S. Navy. “Family and friends often want to gather around the returning service member, celebrate their return and just want to be near them. But the truth is, we don’t want the Budweiser parade. Look at the soldier’s face in that commercial — my veteran friends and I interpreted that not as happy surprise, but as being totally overwhelmed.”

2. Give updates on fellow troops from a vet’s unit.

“Keep in mind that the majority of a veteran’s unit is still going to be in combat if he gets injured and sent home,” says Michael Schlitz, 37, a Purple Heart recipient who lost both hands and the vision in his left eye when a propane tank exploded during a road-clearing mission in southern Baghdad in 2007. The Army veteran spent six months in the intensive care unit and an additional four months in the burn ward while recovering from his injuries. “Vets are going to want to hear how their guys are doing. They still wish they could be with them. But because they’re not there, they’re going to want to make sure people are watching their backs, that they’re getting what they need.”

3. Dole out the tough love when necessary.

“If you happen to reach a point where a guy is laying in bed, seven days a week, not doing anything, someone’s got to step in, slap him upside the head and say, ‘You’re still alive, you go forward and live for the people who don’t have that opportunity,’” says Tommy Clack, 67, a triple amputee and Vietnam War veteran.

4. Ask detailed questions relating to that individual.

“I don’t like when people ask, ‘What was it like?’ as if there’s a single answer that one individual could give that would cover the experience of everyone,” says David Eisler, 29, an Iraq and Afghanistan veteran. “It’s not meant as a stupid question, but it feels like quite the burden to answer for every single vet, especially if you’re being approached by a stranger. Start with more general questions — what did you do? when did you serve? — when talking to veterans you don’t already know.”

5. Go beyond saying, “Thank you for your service.”

“I’ve heard some veterans don’t like when civilians tell them, ‘Thank you for your service,’” says Liguori of Unite US. “It’s not offensive to them, but it creates a barrier, like civilians can just say thank you and it’s enough. Many vets are leaving the service and coming home from overseas struggling with unemployment or just not knowing what they want to do after the uniform. It’s hard for a guy who shot a machine gun for 15 months to come back home and see how shooting a machine gun applies to digital marketing. Veterans are finding it challenging to really transition to civilian life. They would rather hear, ‘Thank you for your service. How can I help you?’ since that second part gives civilians a way to find out how they can help.”
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