The ART of being a BRAT

MUST l SEE

The Art of Being a B.R.A.T.

By Donna Musli

The easiest way to understand a culture is to look at the art of that culture. Listen to their music. Watch their films. But first you have to know where to find that art. And if you’re a military B.R.A.T. (or Third Culture Kid), that’s not an easy thing to do. There are no academic studies or museums focusing solely on military children. There is no “Military B.R.A.T.” or “TCK” section in your local library. An estimated five percent of the U.S. population grew up in a military family, but there is not one television show dedicated to our subculture. Which is why the nonprofit organization BRATs Without Borders and the Military Kid Art Project founded the B.R.A.T. Art Institute in 2016, and later this year, BAI will open the first library devoted to collecting the art, literature, poetry, music, film and performance art of military brats and TCKs around the world. Housed in an Attached Traveler Property studio in Richmond, Va., the library will also gather educational studies and dissertations pertaining to military B.R.A.T.s and TCKs that are languishing in the backrooms of who- knows-how many universities.

Below: UNCLASSIFIED co-curators Lora Beldon and Donna Musil with Montel Williams at the Pentagon ceremony after receiving the Newman’s Own Award.

Donna Musil, 14, on the cheerleading squad at Taegu American High School in Korea, circa 1974.

Above: Donna Musil, 13, the eternal outsider, at an outdoor skating ring in Taegu, Korea, 1973.

As poet-playwright Marcus Gardley said so eloquently: “Art is the most profound way in which a group of people can understand their culture and other cultures. Somehow, art gets at the soul of who we are as a people. It transcends race, class, and gender. It transcends sexual orientation. It transcends history. It transcends war. It, for me, is the only thing that truly is eternal. Histories get rewritten and changed. They get buried. But art, for some reason, manages to remain untainted.”

This is especially true for military B.R.A.T.s who move multiple times before they graduate, and are then scattered to the winds like the petals of a dandelion. We can’t go home. We have no geographical home. In fact, until the internet, we could hardly talk about our experiences with each other, because we didn’t know where most of our friends ended up. We were like little islands, free-floating in a sea of confusion. Who am I? Where am I from? Why do I feel this way? I had all these opportunities. I’m a tough cookie. Why can’t I fit in?

If this sounds like indulgent navelgazing, it’s not. Fitting in or belonging, as it turns out, is the third most important human need, behind only food and safety. Religion, education, even enlightenment take a backseat to belonging. But it’s hard to understand where you belong when you can’t even find a book or film on the subject.

"War Torn Teddy,” by Lora Beldon.

Right: Unique outdoor folk art, by Tom Beldon

Which is why I spent seven years making “BRATS: Our Journey Home,” the first documentary about the life and legacies of growing up military, narrated by Kris Kristofferson, an Air Force B.R.A.T. I was floored by Mary Edwards Wertsch’s book, “Military BRATS: Legacies of Childhood Inside the Fortress.” I couldn’t believe it wasn’t required reading for every military family. I thought perhaps a film might be easier for some people to digest.

The future home of the B.R.A.T. Art Institute Library & Research Center at the Attached Traveler Property studios in Richmond, Virginia.

Poster for the documentary film, “BRATS: Our Journey Home,” narrated by Kris Kristofferson.

I was wrong. Just like Wertsch’s book, the BRATS film was overlooked by the mainstream media and quietly avoided by the military-as-institution. Despite winning multiple awards and breaking independent DVD sales records, the film has yet to be aired on American television, other than AFN-TV overseas. PBS said they couldn’t air it because it was “made by a non-profit about themselves.” It’s hard to believe there is some nefarious plot to ignore or denigrate military B.R.A.T.s. It’s more likely we’re just invisible, as famed B.R.A.T. author Pat Conroy said in his introduction to Wertsch’s book. No one knows we exist. There was a high school principal in Colorado Springs who said he couldn’t show the film to his students because it was “too honest.” I remember thinking if you can’t be honest with children whose parents are literally dying for this country, who can you be honest with?

So, for the past ten years, a small group of dedicated individuals at BRATS Without Borders has focused on designing programs to raise awareness and address the challenges of this invisible subculture. We’ve created educational workshops for military parents and professionals. We partnered with Virginia Beach schoolteacher and Air Force B.R.A.T. Christy McAnally to form BRATS Clubs for children and adults, so they don’t feel alone if they’re attending a non-DoD school. One child asked if she could still join after her father died in Afghanistan, because she “offcially” wasn’t a B.R.A.T., anymore. The other members welcomed her with open arms.

Lora Beldon, a mixed media artist and Marine Corps B.R.A.T., created the first culturally-specific art camps for military children through her company, the Military Kid Art Project. After the American Overseas Schools Historical Society (AOSHS) let me dig through their archives, Beldon and I curated “UNCLASSIFIED: The Military Kid Art Show,” the first contemporary art exhibit exploring the American B.R.A.T. Subculture. The cutting-edge exhibit featured original visual art, poetry, film, artifacts, and STEM curriculum, and won the prestigious Newman’s Own Award for programs that break the mold and improve the quality of life for military families, past and present.

The exhibit led to the founding of the B.R.A.T. Art Institute, where we are currently reconfiguring UNCLASSIFIED, the art camps and workshops to include both adults and children. The exhibit also propelled “Our Own Private Battlefield”

Fred Brown was one of many Native American families to serve in the U.S. military.

Some military B.R.A.T.s attended school in good old-fashioned Quonset huts.

Air Force B.R.A.T. Michelle Green and her best friend sport matching outfits in the 1960s.

A military B.R.A.T.’s passport, post World War II.

Top to Bottom:Virginia Beach B.R.A.T.s enjoy their first Military B.R.A.T. Art Camp.

One happy camper after a Yellow Ribbon Reintegration Program workshop.

Virginia Beach tweens work on trust exercises at their middle school B.R.A.T.s Club.

Virginia Beach teens take a break from making videos about growing up military at BAI’s Military B.R.A.T. Art Camp.

Not all B.R.A.T.s do what they’re told.

Military B.R.A.T.s matter. They helped found this country. Along with their families, they have borne the brunt of every military adventure — and misadventure — America has entered over the past two centuries. I attended 10 schools in 12 years on three continents, before losing my father to Agent Orange-related cancer at 16. He was 42. Others have spent lifetimes juggling the consequences of war.

Growing up military isn’t all bad, of course. Many of us get to see a world we wouldn’t otherwise have seen. The Department of Defense teachers and schools are often excellent. And we are certainly the living embodiment of the positive effects of forced integration on a mass populace after President Truman integrated the military in 1948. It took the adults a little time to get used to it, but military kids were playing together.

These experiences have shaped our lives on a profound level, and continue to inform our thoughts, attitudes and behavior. By gathering the artwork of this subculture in one place for the first time in history, the B.R.A.T. Art Institute hopes to protect the heart, soul, and integrity of a world few Americans even know exist. For more information or to support the B.R.A.T. Art Institute, visit cultursmag.com/BRAT.

Military B.R.A.T. books and artifacts are exhibited in a genuine military footlocker on loan from the Museum of the American Military Family & Learning Center in Albuquerque, New Mexico.

www.CultursMag.com | Spring 2019