s t u den t s
Courtesy of Derek Blumke
Common Insult No. 1: “You were in the military? Why would you ever do that?” Common Insult No. 2: “Did you kill a lot of people?”
phone asking about transfer credits for military training, about housing, about the veterans’ advisor on campus.” (There wasn’t one at the time.) “They transferred me around a lot on the phone. When I finally did get onto campus, I wandered around about an hour-and-ahalf to find the office where I was to get my paperwork for the G.I. Bill. And then they just said, ‘Welcome to Michigan.’ That was it.” Blumke pauses here to explain that U-M, at least, admitted him though he was shy a few prerequisites. “U-M has a holistic approach. They considered my military training and experience. They saw I had a 3.9 GPA in community college (after his active service) and that my high school transcript showing a 1.5 GPA didn’t really reflect who I was anymore, and that I might be a good addition to the university.” Michigan State University simply turned him down because he had not taken a required math course. After Blumke finally got past the paperwork safari, things didn’t improve much. There he was, a 26-year-old who had seen a lot — a lot — while everyone else seemed to be, well, 18. The culture on campus reflected them, not him. “So much of the stuff was not geared toward veterans, it was geared toward 18 and 19 year olds,” he recalls. “You’re going from the military, where there’s this camaraderie, where everybody cares about you, to the dorm, where it’s survival of the fittest.” Adding insult to injury, Blumke fielded the same stupid questions — they’re more like insults — all veterans get from the younger students. Common Insult No. 1: “You were in the military? Why would you ever do that?” Common Insult No. 2: “Did you kill a lot of people?” Good grief. For the record, Blumke did not see actual combat, but he was close to it. As an aircraft electrical and environmental systems technician and aircraft maintenance expeditor, he was deployed three times to Afghanistan during Operation Enduring Freedom. There, “I provided crucial support for infantry,” he says, referring to that sense of camaraderie.
“I mean, I feel right now I should be in Afghanistan with my friends. “If it was that hard for me when I came to college, I can only imagine how hard it is for combat vets who have seen their friends get killed.” Add to that the overall fishout-of-water syndrome all vets feel, college or no college. Up until 2007, veterans often had to defer college because the G.I. Bill’s benefits covered only part of the tuition, and no living expenses at all. “You go from active duty, the most important thing you’ve ever done, to living in your parents’ basement working at U-Haul,” as Blumke describes it. “Sitting in a college classroom, there’s a similar feeling. You feel worthless.” Like many other vets, Blumke experienced depression. The turning point came when he was walking across campus one day in March 2007. He caught sight of a magazine cover showing a sketch of a soldier with the headline, “Student Veterans.” The magazine contained stories of three vets and their problems assimilating to college and civilian life. “I read it and realized, ‘I’m not alone,’” Blumke says. He sure wasn’t then, and he definitely isn’t today. Blumke looked up the sources in that story, heard about independent student veteran chapters, and was determined to set up one at U-M — which he did. But he also asked these other chapter presidents
spring 2009 LSA n 47