NEWSWEEK.COM 17
REALITY Opposite: A homeless
encampment for veterans in Brentwood,
California; author Miller. Below: Secretary
of Veterans Affairs Denis McDonough and
White House press secretary Jen Psaki.“Many veterans who
leave the tangle of war
end up on America’s
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daily for their survival.”years living without a home, without
psychological treatment or steady
access to medications, just trying to
stay alive. For the first three years, I
lived in the South—Virginia, Florida,
Alabama—mostly couch surfing. I
grappled with layers of complex psy-
chological trauma and distress, but
I wasn’t getting properly diagnosed;
the mental health treatment options
in the South are very limited. Worse,
like so many vets, I didn’t know about
the benefits I was entitled to because
the VA didn’t tell me. I spent years
wrangling with the callous bureau-
cracy of the VA: dropped calls, rude
receptionists, misinformation about
benefits. On top of that, I faced the
daily indignities of joblessness, home-
lessness and racism. As a Black man in
the South, I felt smothered. I needed
to get out. So when a friend in New
York City offered me a place to stay, I
saw my opportunity for a fresh start.
A home. Treatment. A new beginning.
But he didn’t tell me the offer waswith parades, services and department
store sales. But homeless veterans
don’t need discounts; we need a sys-
tem that protects them.
We need a comprehensive
approach, one that ensures access to
jobs, housing, medication and treat-
ments that holistically address their
needs. Instead, many veterans who
leave the tangle of war end up on
America’s streets, still fighting daily
for their survival.
This was the fate I was trying to
escape when I left the projects on
Chicago’s South Side. I came from
the Robert Taylor Homes, infamous
for their brutality, murder, rape and
drugs. On 9/11, I got swept up in the
patriotism that gripped the nation.
At 15, I vowed to join the military to
serve my country, knowing if I died, at
least it wouldn’t be on the streets. At
18, I enlisted in the Navy. I spent four
years traveling the world engaged in
goodwill missions, intelligence gather-
ing and assistance with other military
branches.
But this regimented life wore on me.
I saw firsthand the misuse of Ameri-
can military power, our imperialist
treatment of developing countries
and the harm we inflicted on vulner-
able people. It triggered a crisis of
conscience and more trauma in my
already depleted body. I was ready to
return to civilian life.
I left under the impression I could
get any job I wanted. We heard it
often—vets receive preference in the
workforce—and high-skilled IT spe-
cialists like me held a special edge in
the marketplace. I trusted that narra-
tive. I applied to IBM, Google, Apple
and 50 other companies. I got one or
two interviews, but neither led to a job.
I’m not the only one who has never
seen this “military preference” play
out in the job hunt. The truth hurts:
That preference is a myth. Companies
often don’t hire vets. They worry about
whether or not we’ll be able to settle
into normal jobs along with other
stereotypes—that we all wear foil hats
and fall back into flashbacks of war.
Three months after I left the Navy, I
ended up a broken, broke man. I had
to leave my apartment in Virginia
because of an eviction notice, a car I
couldn’t afford, jobs I couldn’t get. I
was embarrassed.
I’d go on to spend the next five