“Teacher, I’m probably going to be sad all week.”
I looked down at Janessa, surprised. She’s one of the most cheerful children in the class. Articulate and inquisitive, she’s the child who asks me for extra homework, who writes six paragraphs if I ask for five, who meets me at the bookshelf to ask for book recommendations. Since school started in July, I don’t think I’ve heard her complain once.
“Why are you going to be sad?”
“My stepdad is going out on deployment tomorrow.” She speaks matter-of-factly, but her voice quavers and I can tell that tears are not far off. I hug her lightly and promise her we’ll talk about it when there is a quiet moment in class.
Although there are many military families in the region, I’ve had surprisingly few in my class. However, I know deployment is stressful for children, and a quick glance at Janessa’s fingernails, bitten down to the quick, tells me that she’s already spent some time worrying about how her stepfather’s absence will affect her family.
Perhaps this is because she’s already experienced deployment once. “He was deployed once already to the Persian Gulf,” Janessa explains. She was eight years old at the time. “When I first heard the word deployment, I thought, ‘Going on a ship—that’s not bad’ until I understood how long he’d be gone. It seemed like forever.” She remembers crying when she saw his ship come in, crying when she saw him disembark, crying as she ran up to hug him. “I was so excited to get ready to make good memories again. I literally have a brand new life starting over when he comes home.”
This time, Janessa doesn’t know where his ship, The Comstock, is headed, but she knows that talking to him on Facetime won’t be the same as having him at home. “He’s the big Plus One in our family,” she brags, the one who fixes the computer, programs the electronics and helped Janessa assemble her dollhouse. Without him, deployment means harder times and more responsibility. It means helping out her stressed mother who works all day and then comes home to not only Janessa, but an active toddler as well. Janessa watches her two-year-old sister so her mom can shower, helps pack the diaper bag, entertains her sister with the Ipad and tries to keep her out of trouble. She admits with a sheepish grin, “Sometimes my mom has trouble with me too. I give her attitude. I don’t clean my room when I’m told.” Pretty normal behavior for a ten-year-old, but it can still be the straw that breaks the camel’s back to a tired, overworked mom. Janessa is conscious of this and quickly defends herself, “I try not to forget.”
Janessa is unexpectedly fearless about her stepfather’s deployment. Given her admitted tendency toward anxiety and current the state of the world, this is surprising. She doesn’t follow the news and doesn’t ask for details about her stepfather’s deployment; she doesn’t want to know. When she lets herself think about possible dangers, natural disasters haunt her thoughts. She imagines earthquakes in Japan or hurricanes in the southeast. Her overall optimism resurfaces quickly; “Some situations are bigger than others, but I don’t feel like we’re in a war.”
As difficult as deployment is for Janessa and her family, she is proud of her stepfather. To her, his is a worthy mission, and she’s willing to lend her beloved stepfather to a global society that needs him. “I know if the world borrows him, it’ll make the world better. I know he’s doing good things for others.” When she is overcome by sadness at his absence, “I remember he’s helping other people make their countries better.”
Janessa admits that it would be easier if she had friends with deployed parents. Although she is a popular student, some days she aches for someone who feels the same as she does. She’d like to know if others find it comforting to sleep with their moms, if others give themselves the same pep talks she does. Janessa, wise beyond her years, already has advice prepared for other children with deployed parents. “I’d tell them it’s okay to let your fears come, because that’s what happens in life and it’s better to prepared. I’d tell them, ‘He’ll be back, and even if he isn’t, he’ll be with you every moment of your life.’”
It is clear Janessa tries hard to stay positive, but in quiet moments she wrestles with worst-case scenarios. “Even if he wouldn’t make it, I know he will always be next to me.” She regains her optimism rapidly, spiced with a dash of gratitude. “I love him so much and thank him for doing so much to make our community better.”
