After two years away from Cornell in the South Korean Army as a combat medic, I returned to Ithaca this semester as a senior. The Army had forced me to mature but nevertheless, as a senior, I needed to get a job. Or at least decide what to do after graduation. Thus, I was forced to ask myself what I liked, what I disliked, and the multiple other questions lost seniors ask themselves.
Last week, my Islamic history professor seemed to attack the heart of my problem when he asked our class, “What have you truly learned from your Cornell education?” Some of us ventured a few feeble squeaks but nobody seemed to have answers that were worth sharing. I privately indulged in my own thoughts and indeed wondered what I will have truly learned from Cornell after I left. Would Winston Churchill, international monetary theory, and French be what I learned at Cornell? Or was it something else?
In my attempt to conjure an intelligent answer to this question, I reflected upon my recent experiences in the South Korean Army and my discussions with other ex-military students on campus. Maybe these students, who had also experienced life outside school, would give answers, and answer they did.
So, I decided to write a short article about their stories—stories which seemed worth sharing with the Cornell community.
Chris Johnson, a graduate student at the economics department, told me his tale. After college, Chris had served in the United States Marine Corps as an infantry officer. As he conducted two combat tours in Iraq, Chris was forced to adjust quickly. He seemed to downplay the dangers he had faced when he said, he was “lucky” to have had been in a relatively safe area in Iraq. After Iraq, Chris came to Cornell to pursue graduate studies.
Chris admitted there were issues in adjusting to life after the military. He humorously stated, “They [Chris’s parents] had to remind me that my sister was not one of my marines and I could not speak to her as such.”
When asked what the military had taught him though, Chris’s voice changed.
“I had a friend that I trained with and was killed on his first tour to Afghanistan. He had just married his girlfriend and they had moved to Japan. I also had a Marine in my platoon who deployed with me to Iraq and we returned back to the US, but he volunteered to go immediately back to Iraq and was killed by an IED.”
Chris added the following: “You learn not to take for granted what we have. I know a lot of great people who have sacrificed a lot to be here [Cornell], so, I’m not trying to take that away from them at all. But I just know that, when you know what we’ve seen in the military, and had to live in that environment, you just learn not to take for granted friendships, your relationships with your family, and air-conditioning, running water. Things could be a lot worse, very easily.”
Eonho Lee ‘13, formerly a UN peacekeeper with the UN Interim Force In Lebanon (UNIFIL), also commented on his military experience.
“Let’s be honest. I understand Cornell is diverse. I am myself a part of that diversity, being an international student. Yet we’re all college students; we’re, for the most part, protected from extreme situations such as starving to death or witnessing personal acquaintances getting killed. The Army introduced me to a diversity I had never encountered.”
He continued, “There was a buddy whose father that was a part of a gang dealing with the prostitution industry. Another guy in my unit had attempted suicide, only to be stopped by another person at the last minute.”
Eonho was brave enough to conclude, “At first, I unconsciously belittled them. Yeah, I might have felt sorry for some of them, but I was arrogant without my knowing it. I made assumptions. However, after mingling with these guys, I found out they had qualities I did not. I really learned that every person has a story. Every person has something he or she can teach me.”
Dave Blome, another former U.S. marine who had served in Iraq, and current graduate student in the history department, pointed out another benefit we often overlooked:
“Cancer survivors might say the same thing. But I am appreciative most of just being able to move my arms and legs. Being able to enjoy the sun. Having the capability to ride my bike when I have the time. Back in Iraq, I came to terms with the prospect that in 15 minutes, 30 minutes or an hour, everything might be dark—that I would be dead. I haven’t forgotten that. Now, little things like a good laugh with friends or family remind me of how great it is just to be living life.”
Perhaps though, the last word goes to Junhyung Lee ‘15, a computer science major in the College of Arts and Sciences.
Junhyung had served as a Thermo Observational Device (a special camera that sees objects in red, yellow, and orange, depending on the temperature of the figures) specialist on the heavily fortified North-South Korean border. The two Koreas are still officially at war, and border skirmishes are not uncommon as nearly 1 million armed men stand guard in bunkers, staring at one another across the border.
After his service, Junhyung commented on what he had learned to appreciate.
“I missed Sprite. I missed the freedom to walk over to a soda shop and buy a can of Sprite without worrying about reporting, getting permission, or potentially being shot at.”
Indeed these students’ stories convey the thanks and appreciation we often forget to give our friends, families, classmates, fellow employees, and in general, our opportunity to learn. And of course, our sprites.
But, to go back to the question my professor had thrown: what have we learned here?
These students gained an appreciation of the many things in life we forget to thank, not because those things are unimportant but rather because they are so essential that we take them for granted. Let’s learn to appreciate the small things in life, because if we think about them, they may not be so small at all.