Just Call Me BRAT

      “Who is that new girl in biology?  I don’t know where she came from, but she sure is different.”  Sound familiar?  Well, it does to me.  I heard it often during my school years. Why?  Because I am a BRAT – that’s why.    What’s a BRAT?  The children of military service members are referred to as BRATs.  And though we are more correctly known as military dependents, we take pride in being called BRATS. It is a title we were given and MOST of us are absolutely OK with it.

       I am only one of the 13-15 MILLION who are living or have lived the life of a BRAT.  The term is said to have possibly originated from an archaic term for the British families who traveled with their military member parent - British Regimental Attached Travelers – or BRATs.  However, many believe it came primarily from the attitudes of the general public who had been known to call the children of early military members “brats,” perhaps based upon the perception that a child who was being raised in traveling camps by notoriously poorly paid military members and their camp-follower spouses were not as socially adept as other children.  However, in my experience the opposite seems to be true.  As a matter of fact, we BRATS are held to higher standards of behavior. BRATs are taught from the cradle that their behavior reflects on their military parent’s career. It is ingrained from birth that infractions of behavior come with consequences, and that a consequence fitting that infraction will most surely be forthcoming.  If a military member cannot maintain discipline and assure proper behavior of his own children, how can he ever be expected to do so with his troops?It is important in the eyes of his superiors that his family reflect the ability to lead.

      We BRATS are a special cross section of society.  We make up about 5% of the population - a very small minority group that knows no one ethnicity.  We are black, white, brown, yellow, red and all shades in between.  We are the children of enlisted service members, commissioned service members, children of diplomats and of other government employees. Because we are short on “roots,” we gravitate toward one another.

       We have BRAT associations (i.e., Berlin Brats Association, Overseas Brats, etc.) whose main function is to support BRATS and keep us all in touch by organizing frequent get-togethers – large and all inclusive. There are “leader” BRATs in our numbers who take over the planning and execution of more frequent locality-driven gatherings.  We share our photos, our yearbooks and our memories, often quite similar, regardless of the age of the BRATs involved.

         See, civilian children usually have high school friends with whom they attended kindergarten and all twelve grades.  The fact that I attended ten schools in twelve years in several different states and one foreign country tells you that I don’t have that core group of school friends enjoyed by civilian students.  BRATs cling to each other not because we have known each other for a long time, but because we share a common background, a bond  – that of “gypsy” lives, always on the move, always being the new kid.

            BRATs live in many different states and foreign countries and enjoy a life most of their civilian friends only read about. We get to do this not because our families are wealthy and can afford to travel (far from it); but rather because one or both of our parents chose to serve their country and uprooting their families every two to four years at the whims of Uncle Sam is part and parcel of that service.

           

          As a result, BRATS grow up and live for short periods of time anywhere and everywhere - from the frigid north of Fairbanks, Alaska to the sunny shores of Hawaii, and all the different climes and locations in between. Therefore, most of us do not have a sense of “hometown,” hometown being what most people refer to when they talk about where they were born and attended twelve years of school. We attend many different schools during our school years. Often BRATS attend a new school every year – sometimes two schools in one year. While some might say this negatively impacts the education received, there are many others who would argue that this gives BRATS a much broader educational experience.

        A BRAT is always the “new kid,” the “different kid,” “that military kid.” Either we learn to adapt or we remain outsiders – alone and probably unhappy.  Most of us learn to adapt in quick order.  When you meet a BRAT, the first distinctive thing you may notice is the lack of a strong regional accent.  That is because each new base assignment requires us to find a way to fit in. If a BRAT sounds too different, quite often he/she is ostracized. So we BRATs learn to listen carefully and integrate a small degree of the local speech patterns into our everyday speech.  We also learn that we have to be very careful with that integration lest we be accused of making fun of our new classmates.  It’s a thin line between “fitting in” and “making fun” and most BRATS learn well how to stay on the safe side of that line.  During the times when a BRAT is finding his niche in whatever new school he is attending, in the back of his mind he is fully aware there is a very real possibility that this time next year he will be doing it all over again, in a very different part of the country or world, moving yet again.      

      BRATs learn early that it is up to us to make the effort to fit in, whether it is in a new school or a new job.  Of necessity, we BRATs must be able to do things outside our comfort zone, to face life’s challenges with equanimity.  Don't get me wrong, there are lone wolves in our ranks, those who never quite find the way to adapt.  In spite of this, in our small segment of society, we run the same percentage of success and failure as the civilian world.  But on the whole, if you ask a BRAT, we are a much better adjusted group than might be expected – maybe because we have faced the challenges and adapted to whatever was thrown at us, wherever we ended up.  We know, maybe better than the average civilian, that change is inevitable. How much that change disrupts our lives is pretty much up to us - we can fight it or embrace it. BRATS tend to embrace...  My name is Patty and I’m a BRAT – hear me roar.