One day we, all juniors at Loara High School, were told to go to the auditorium because we had to take the ASVAB. “What’s the ASVAB?” questioned my peers. No one even bothered to inform us that we did not have to take this test, which tells the military whether your talents are “good enough” for them to recruit you. “It’s a test that tells you what your strengths are; the career you should pursue,” administrators convinced us.
The military believes that most teenagers are confused, especially about the future. They use a “nice fluffy teddy bear” of an excuse to disguise their true intentions. They figure, “we could tell them what they are good at, while we find out if they are good enough to drop bombs and fire missiles all around the world.”
That day the auditorium was filled with familiar faces and distinctive folks in different shades of green; shoes black and shiny and shirts that are nicely tucked in and ironed. They must be good people because they are dressed professionally right? But intimidation permeated the air like a suffocating mist,; making it harder to question the military’s intentions and presence.
We had to sign a release agreement—I did not. We had to give them our name and address--- I did not. I had figured that the military could not physically hurt me and so it began.
“Ashley McDonald, come here,” the sergeant announced out loud. That was my “unpredictable” alias, together with 123 Fake Street as my address.
Since I had neglected to sign the release form, I was being sought after. “Ashley McDonald!?” she called a couple times and the young girl never responded. The crowd responded with questions and peculiar faces. “Who’s Ashley McDonald?” became a familiar symphony with the screeching sergeants complain “Ashley McDonald!”
I did not realize that the code number was the same on all of my forms but I did realize that they would find me amongst the hundreds of students in the room. Forty minutes passed. We had finished the first section of the test when “578212!” was yelled out from the sergeant’s mouth. I did not respond.
The defiance increased the throbbing rate of the vein on her forehead. Once again the auditorium looked to their neighbors and friends to try and solve the mystery. Shiny black shoes roamed around the auditorium, chatting and buzzing my classmates were, “578212” was searched. The top right of our tests became the key to uncovering the rebel. Uneasiness decorated the rows and rows of my classmates, while fury stamped the face of the six foot tall sergeant. “578212?!?!?!”
I stood up. “It’s my number.” Silence flooded the room.
The sergeant walked up to me. “Why didn’t you say earlier?!” and my reply sent her in a deeper fury. “I don’t know.”
“Get out!” she commanded.
As silence pierced loudly through the room, I started on my way out. Half way out, I stopped and turned around to warn my classmates, “Don’t take the test…they are only trying to recruit you.” I turned back around and headed out the door as black shiny shoes ran after me, from across the room….
The room was like a dark cave, where even a whisper was as loud as thunder.
I don’t regret what I did. The sergeant that chased me out of the auditorium told me “Come back in, you seem like a smart girl. It’s okay if your classmates think you’re anti-American.”
His assumptions only proved and concluded that returning to the auditorium would be absolutely foolish. He then smoothly asked me for the directions to the principal’s office, I told him, he asked me to follow him. The principal was not there so I was dismissed to the library.
Later that day, discussions and debates filled the classrooms. The ASVAB and my actions suddenly became controversial. My history class was filled with applause for the “protester.”. My classmates reassured, supported and praised my actions.
As teenagers we need to cut the pink laces that cover our eyes because only when we understand that we can question authority can we begin to fulfill our duty as citizens and protectors of democracy. It takes questioning authority, their decisions and the forces behind them for us to be truly free. When we understand that the military is trying to exploit our families, friends, neighbors and classmates we can begin to see and fight back with curious and informed minds. My confrontation with the military will hopefully serve as a slowing force that shows my peers that just because we’re teenagers does not mean we are dumb. Just because we are teenagers doesn’t give adults the right to trick us.
It is important for us all to understand that there is a war going on and No Child Left Behind has given more access to the military at our school than ever before. Additionally, the military has upped its recruitment efforts in working poor and middle class schools. Why? Because when it comes down to it we are seen as easy prey. Why? Because our families and communities have a lack of resources to help us pursue careers and upward mobility. Why? Because when it comes down to it, in a way we are all expected to fill low-skill jobs. (Think Wal-Marts, and Disneyland resorts.). The military knows that everyone wants more than that and they sell and try to buy us on the idea that they can give it to us. For the past three months in a row, for the first time since the draft was ended, the Marines have not met their recruiting quotas. Why? Why do you think?