(File photo)
Senior
My life as a military child
Being a military kid was never something I had expected. At 12 my parents told me that they were thinking about enlisting in the Air Force. At that moment the news had no impact on me, I hadn’t put into thought how much that would change my life. By the time I was 13, when things started getting more intense, my step dad left for boot camp and we got our orders saying we’d be moving across the world to Japan. Leaving my family, friends was never something I expected from my life.
I thought I would never move from Puerto Rico. I had the rest of my life planned, and now my life was about to completely change. I moved on the 28th of December and I arrived in Okinawa on the 31st. I started school shortly after and I felt so out of place, people here were different from my normal, the place, the cultures so different yet similar to my own. It took a while but I found my place and my people and started realizing that maybe moving was a good thing in my life.
I had never liked stepping out of my comfort zone and trying new things. I’m a creature of habit and often forget to try new things, and moving here pushed me to do it. It pushed me to make new friends, to try new foods, to be a better version of me. It made me create a new family out of people I’d met, yet cherish every moment I had with my real family.
Being a military kid isn’t always good. It’s hard and it can be really lonely at times but it also teaches you things about yourself and life that you can only learn from experience.
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Senior
I was born into a world of motion — fast, unpredictable, and intimidating — but I still grew wings and learned to soar.
As a military kid, I’ve moved more times than I can count, trained to pack my life into duffel bags, cardboard boxes, and the trunk of a rental car. Each move held a familiar rhythm: folding clothes that still carried the scent of someplace else, pressing tape down over boxes that didn’t feel full enough, standing in doorways longer than I needed to — as if pausing could make leaving easier. It never did. And with every move came a new challenge — saying goodbye to friends I’d just begun to know, walking into unfamiliar classrooms under interrogating fluorescent lights, and learning the language of new towns. It often felt like I was stuck in a cycle of arriving just in time to leave again.
But over time, I began to understand that this life in motion wasn’t just about endings — it held countless beginnings too. With every relocation, I adapted faster. I learned how to smile even when my stomach twisted, how to find pieces of home in places where everything felt foreign — like the warm smell of pancakes in a new kitchen or the soft comfort of an old hoodie that had traveled with me through states and seasons. I got good at reading rooms, at blending in without fading out. I became flexible, resilient, open — carrying those qualities like essentials in my mental go-bag.
But adapting wasn’t just about surviving change. It was also about finding anchors. For me, that anchor was always the field. No matter where I moved, sports gave me something solid to hold onto — a team, a rhythm, a shared language. The sharp scent of fresh-cut grass, the smack of a lacrosse ball against my stick, the sting of sweat in my eyes — those familiar details grounded me. Even when I didn’t know anyone’s name, I could still run drills. Still find my spot in the huddle.
In high school, I expanded my role. I became the manager for the boys’ basketball team — filling ice baths, keeping stats, organizing gear, shouting encouragement until my voice gave out. The squeak of sneakers on hardwood, the snap of towels, the adrenaline of a tight game — all of it made me feel steady and connected. I wasn’t on the court, but I was still part of the team. And I learned that leadership isn’t always loud. Sometimes, it’s showing up early, knowing what people need before they ask, being reliable when everything else is shifting.
These experiences didn’t just help me adjust — they shaped me. Constant change taught me how to stay grounded in chaos. Sports taught me how to belong — how to walk into a room full of strangers and feel sure I had something to offer. I’ve learned to find home in small things: a shared laugh during warm-ups, a familiar pregame playlist, the hum of fluorescent lights in a gym that smells like rubber and effort.
Now, as I prepare for my next move — this time toward college — I know I’m not just packing up again. I’m carrying everything I’ve built: the resilience earned through years of goodbyes, the confidence I found on fields and sidelines, and the quiet strength of someone who knows how to start over and still stay whole.
This time, I’m not just moving forward. I’m soaring.
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Growing up in small towns across the midwest, I was always asked questions like “Oh, when’d you get here?”, “Where are you from?”, and “You’re leaving already? I wish you could stay.” Yeah, me too. I love getting to experience new places and meet new people, don’t get me wrong. As a military brat, I’ve gained a heightened sense of anticipatory nostalgia. Essentially it’s the feeling of noticing you’ll miss a specific moment or time in your life before it’s even over. Until living here in Okinawa, I had never spent one full segment of education at the same school. Now my high school experience will be a, relatively, normal one. (Obviously despite the fact that I attend a DODEA school on an international air force base on a small island in Japan). I like being a military child because I have expanded my views of the world and come to understand and respect various new cultures. I have friends from all over the world because of my ability to network and make acquaintances in a short amount of time. There are so many pros and cons that come with being in the military, but you can make the best of the experience by looking on the bright side.
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Junior
Anomalous Blessings
Being in the military community, there are many things you would expect: constant moving, new friends, new places, and big life changes at every corner. But what about the population of children left behind? DoDEA children are often the individuals who have to watch countless friends leave and move on to new experiences and places. Although we have the opportunity to move around, our parents’ jobs usually require a prolonged time at their location, causing us to often be overlooked in the Month of the Military Child conversation. Even though we are still children of the military community, we experience things very differently, still just as challenging and exhilarating as the rest. It sometimes feels like a one-size-fits-all perspective is thrown over the topic. However, there are countless experiences and situations that civilian children go through in the military community.
Every time one of my friends leaves, I feel deeply for them, knowing that they have to pick everything up and leave, but I cannot mask the feeling of being left behind. It’s truly a different kind of struggle to go through. Sometimes it feels as though you’re stuck dormant while your closest friends move on to new, exciting adventures. It’s not easy to vocalize feelings such as these, knowing that children of military service members endure so many unique struggles you could never understand, but it’s also extremely important to shed light on the mutual struggles of DOD civilian children. I say this to admit, despite being a DoDEA kid, growing up in the military community has taught me countless lessons about resilience, connection, adaptability, and most of all to live every day to the fullest because time with your friends is precious. From a young age, I figured out that living in a military community is unlike the traditional American lifestyle; learning that nothing is permanent and to be flexible at all times. I learned to deeply appreciate my lifestyle and unconventional perspective. Realizing that living in Japan was a true blessing and a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. That, through the struggles you may face, focusing on what matters most should always be the top priority. You learn that struggles are merely temporary aches that are always followed by an abundance of blessings.
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Sophomore
My Life As A Military Child
Being a military child has some cool parts. I’ve gotten to live in different places and experience things most people don’t. Moving around means I’ve met a lot of different people, and it’s helped me become more open and adaptable. I’ve learned how to make friends quickly and handle change better than most. It also makes me feel proud knowing that my parent is doing something important, and it gives me a strong sense of respect and responsibility. But it’s not always easy. Moving so often can be really hard, especially when I have to leave behind close friends just when we’re getting really comfortable. It can feel lonely starting over again and again, and sometimes it can feel like you don’t belong anywhere.
Friendships are probably the hardest parts. I’ve met some really great people, but saying goodbye never gets easier. Sometimes it feels like I’m always starting over while everyone else gets to stay in one place and grow up together. I try to stay in touch, but it’s not the same as seeing someone every day. At the same time, it’s taught me to value the time I do have with people and not take it for granted.
Even with the challenges, there are parts of life that I wouldn’t trade. I’ve seen places and experienced things that a lot of people never will. I’ve learned how to handle change, how to connect with people quickly, and how to stay strong when things feel uncertain. Being a military child isn’t easy, but it’s made me who I am, and in a lot of ways, it’s made me stronger.
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Junior
Carried by the Wind
A dandelion blows in the wind
Spreading from across the seas and through the mist
To more lands we could ever list
By now, most of us get the gist.
We show our pride, and you’ll watch us succeed
We work really hard, and we cannot concede
The next generation will soon see
The impact that we truly leave.
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MOMC Haiku
Scattered globally
But connected everywhere
This is you and me
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Junior
The life of a military child
Being a military child comes with highs and lows. You get to experience things that many other people wish they had the chance to experience, but it also holds you back from a whole outside world.
As a military child you are held to a high standard being in a world full of rules and regulations that you must follow. I have been a military child my whole life and never had a glimpse of the outside. Being a military child has given me the privilege of living in Japan for 8 years and it is amazing. Being a military child also comes with consequences such as moving, deployments, and many sacrifices.
If being a military child has taught me anything it is that you must have love and determination for your family. My dad has been serving in the military for almost 30 years and I am proud of him everyday for doing what he loves and protecting his country. While being a military child I have made friends all over the world and many precious memories with my family that I will never forget. I am beyond grateful and blessed to have the opportunity of being a military child.
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Junior
MOMC Haiku
Military kid
Traveled all over the world
But Japan is home
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Sophomore
Kayla Gilmore family photos (Photos by Kayla Gilmore/Kadena High School)
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Senior
Life Of A Military Child “Where are you From?”
Have you ever had trouble explaining where you’re from?
For me; hearing “where are you from” never sounded fun
Moving from place to place; I didn’t know truly where I called home
From being born in the tropical Okinawa
Living in the home of the B2 Bomber Whiteman Air Force Base
To a small town in Mississippi
To the streets of Osan, South Korea
Then a new school experience to the Philippines
Then finally back in Okinawa
All these places and still don’t know what to choose
For others even more places they’ve moved
How can you know where you are from?
The place you were born?
Where have you lived the longest?
Where your family is from?
Or where you liked it the most?
Every place has been an experience
Even though moving, I showed resistance
Even now knowing where I’m from I may not know
But as time will go it will show
Some people may not understand the pressure of this question
But for me it takes me back down the road of my military life
Every place has just been a vibe
I think living in Okinawa for 10 years makes me from here
But I still think about my life in the Philippines over there
This question still gives me fear
But what can I say
I love it over here!
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Senior
From different time zones
To new faces and places
Not good or bad. Different
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Senior
My Military Life Experience Lingering in Japan
I’ve been lingering and living in Japan for 13-14 years. Before I was here my dad was stationed around Baltimore in which was where my family resided. It was fun, people spoke my language, we’d always play soccer or American football with my neighbors and go firefly seeing every time we got the chance. The sparks of the fireflies felt like I was looking at stars close up. Life was great. Best of all I spent time with my great grandma before she passed away. Sadly, I knew time was cutting close. Eventually, I finally moved from Baltimore.
Now we’re in Okinawa, Japan. I didn’t know if there were going to be people that speak English like myself but luckily there were bases I was unaware of. Foster was my first area I’ve lived in. My elementary school education was taught in Zukeran (the one before the new Zukeran). I remember that I was a toucan and the motto was “I can, You can, We all can for Toucan!” or something along those lines. The vibrant walls with decorated halls and ice cream occasionally on Fridays. I thought life wouldn’t be so bad. I made new friends, everything was great.
Sadly, we changed schools yet again. My dad was still stationed here but my mom wanted us to go to a Japanese school so we can tap in on our Japanese side too. All of my friends didn’t have social media back then so that was a sad farewell but all of those experiences made me think “All good things must come to an end.” All of my friends from elementary school to my Japanese school were great to me and I’m sad that we don’t keep in touch but I have to suck it up and keep on moving. Now, in Kadena High School. I realized that all good things come to an end if you choose to. Some of my friends left because of PCS but I realized that I can stay connected with them by using social media and such. Now, I keep in touch with, cherish and enjoy every friend I have. And my choice is to keep all good things from ending.
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Freshman
My sister and I always knew my dad was part of the military our whole life. And we knew my mom joined at some point, joining my dad, and that’s how my family came to be. We had plushes and teddy bears slapped with my dad’s face on them. I remember the time when I was three, he had to be stationed here in Okinawa for three years in Kinser, and I didn’t really understand why. I knew it was for military reasons, but what does a three-year-old know? But little did I know that would basically foreshadow the future as I grow.
Throughout most of my life, I lived like a regular American citizen in San Diego. We never lived in a military base; there were no guards to check ID’s when we left to go somewhere, no fighter jets were flying over our house, and no naval piers. All of that was basically 20 or 30 minutes away.
My first time being stationed overseas was in Rota, Spain. It felt like a completely different vibe upon arrival. It felt like I was in a completely different world. Only days before, I said goodbye to lifelong friends whom I had known since Kindergarten, and now I’m in some ghost town. It was a rough start for me, new school, new people, new language, and a new environment in general. But at least they had a Navy Exchange and commissary, although very downgraded. But when bad things happen, well, for me at the time, many good things happened.
Never in my life would I have thought that we would be living in Europe. My whole life, we never traveled overseas, so I saw places I never thought I would ever see. And I met new friends, who I cherished very much; I would consider them family. Now, we’re doing the same routine here in Okinawa. I have realized that living as a military child, you will experience something unique. It gives you opportunities to experience something that other people don’t get to experience. You get to see the world, learn, and experience the culture. You will see places you never thought you would go. You get to live the lifestyle that you’re not used to. And the best part is, you get to experience it with your family, and it’s all outside your door.
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Senior
My name is Sophia Fineman. I am a senior at Kadena High School. My whole life, I have lived in Okinawa, Japan. Both of my parents are doctors of education, educating military children. My father is a combat veteran who served in Afghanistan. For eighteen years I have watched my friends move and parents come and go because of moves associated with their military service. Watching the resilience of these families and the resilience my family has, I am proud to be a military child and I am proud to be strong, resilient, and brave. Never to show fear. My family has a history of military service both on my father and mother’s side. The story of resiliency which I like to think about in my own family is my great-great uncle David Fineman, a soldier who left just like my father and my Uncle A did for war to serve in Afghanistan. Uncle Dave served in World War II.
As a Jew during World War II, Uncle Dave felt a deep obligation to serve his country and his people. My uncle was a right waist gunner for the B-24 Bomber crew, “Dinah Might”. Amazingly, all of the soldiers in his crew were Jewish. In Hebrew the word Dinah means “God will judge.”
On February 10, 1944, Uncle Dave was sent on a last-minute mission. Shot down, my uncle Dave was taken as a prisoner of war in Germany. He was taken to a prison camp in Stalag Luft Germany number IV. He was a POW for one and a half years, enduring the wrath of the German army, already extremely hostile to even just Americans, let alone American Jews. After this experience, Uncle Dave would never be the same again. He fought for his country and ended up as a Jewish Prisoner in a German prison. Affected by the horrors of this experience, he suffered severe PTSD. My Uncle Dave would be known for driving to his rural home in Chester, West Virginia all the way from Melbourne, Florida just to see if everyone was okay, stay for half an hour, and then drive all the way back. Much of this was always unexplained, but Uncle Dave’s sacrifice for his country showed his commitment to keeping his country and his people free. I am a military child with generations of my family serving in the military. I want to be just as brave as my family members. I’m moving to California next year and I know the importance of going somewhere new to make a difference and not have any fear, just like my family did.
Veterans not only are the heroes of our country, but my own personal heroes. All of these veterans in my life have served something greater than themselves by going into the United States military. Just like my Uncle Dave, who served in war, they were willing to give everything, even their lives to keep our country free. Even like my father and my Uncle A who left for Afghanistan with young, goofy looks on their faces never knowing if they would return home in one piece or if at all.
This bond is something I see from all veterans. Some of my greatest teachers in school are veterans. The veterans in my family who have shown me the value of service, commitment, integrity, selflessness, putting an entire country before themselves, and doing the right thing even when they knew they would never be the same. They signed on the dotted line and honored that commitment. As a military child, I see these heroes daily. I see the sacrifices made and I see families reunited. I am proud to be a part of a family who served. Learning the stories of my grandfather, my great uncle, and especially my father, I take their heroism, braveness, and constant courageousness and apply this to my whole life. To be a military child means to adapt, to not be afraid, and to not show fear just like the service men I am surrounded by every day. I am eternally grateful.
