Intersectional Approaches to Veteran Identity–Moving Beyond the Monolith

Framing the Conversation: Panel Introductions & Positionality

Dr. Leeshe Grimes (LG): Good afternoon, and welcome to our roundtable discussion on Intersectional Approaches to Veteran Identity, Moving Beyond the Monolith. My name is Dr. Leeshe N. Grimes, and I have the honor of moderating today’s discussion. I am a licensed clinical professional counselor, a nationally certified counselor, a registered play therapist, and a trauma-informed therapist. I am the Founder and CEO of Elevated Minds, LLC. and the Co-Founder and CEO of The Good in Me, LLC., two organizations committed to mental wellness, identity development, and community empowerment. I am also a scholar-practitioner whose research focuses on intersectional approaches to identity and the systemic barriers that disproportionately impact marginalized populations, including veterans and service members. Before any of that, I served my country as a Black woman in uniform. That experience shaped me, stretched me, and exposed me in ways I could not have imagined. I am a retired United States (US) Army combat veteran, and much of who I am, personally, professionally, and spiritually, was forged through that identity and now fuels both my advocacy and scholarship. Today’s conversation moves beyond surface-level views of veteran identity. We’ll explore how race, gender, sexuality, and other intersecting identities shape service, struggle, healing, and belonging. This is a layered, personal topic, and our goal is honest dialogue, reflection, and connection. I’ll now introduce our panel, beginning with Travis Dozier.

Travis Dozier (TD): Hello, my name is Travis Dozier. I’m originally from West Georgia, East Alabama, but I call Miami Home. I am a Higher Ed Military Fellow with Higher Ed Jobs. I work as a substitute teacher with Miami-Dade County Schools. I work as a Veterans Benefit Advisor at Florida International University in the Office of Veteran and Military Affairs, and I own a small business called T. Dozier Consulting, specializing in academic and career coaching. Lastly, I am a graduate student pursuing a Master of Science in Higher Education and Administration and a graduate certificate in African and African Diaspora studies. I’ve spent 10 plus years in the United States Army with three combat tours—one in Iraq and two in Afghanistan. During my time in the military as an African American, Same Gender Loving (SGL) male, my experience was transformative and marked with some controversy. I’m happy to be here on this panel and I’ll pass it on to my colleague Dr. Vanessa Meade.

Dr. Vanessa Meade (VM): Hi, I’m Dr. Vanessa Meade. I am an assistant professor in the School of Social Work at the University of Alaska in Anchorage. It’s an honor to be here. I’m also a US Army combat veteran and former Alaska State Trooper. I’m a part of the LGBTQ+ community and have been working on women veterans’ issues in Alaska and other states, advocating for policies, programs, outreach, and services with veterans. I’m a licensed clinical social worker and psychologist in Alaska. I’ve also facilitated mindfulness-based retreats with veterans for over 13 years. I will pass it on to D’Alizza Mercedes.

D’Alizza Mercedes (DM): Thank you for the warm welcome. I’m D’Alizza Mercedes, a PhD candidate nearing the completion of my dissertation. My research explores how the pandemic exacerbated the marginalization of employed women with children, a topic that remains timely due to ongoing gendered impacts on women’s careers. My research aims to uplift women, celebrate their strength, and examine their pathways to leadership and achievement. Although I have not served in the military, my family’s escape from dictatorship in the Dominican Republic has instilled in me a deep respect for service members and American values. Currently, I teach military and veteran students as an adjunct professor at the University of Maryland Global Campus, a role that I hold in high regard. It is a true privilege to participate in this roundtable as a civilian researcher and advocate. I appreciate the opportunity to listen, learn, and contribute.

Note: The answers of the participants were lightly edited and, in some cases, shortened to avoid redundancy and maintain a semblance of symmetry and to cover a wide range of issues.

Roundtable Discussion

LG: Thank you all. I am honored to be joined by such powerful voices as we begin this vital conversation on intersectionality and veteran identity. Today’s discussion centers the lived experiences of veterans whose stories are often overlooked. We will examine how layered identities, particularly those related to race, gender, and trauma, shape how veterans serve, heal, and navigate life after military service. Intersectionality is often reduced to a buzzword, but for many veterans, it reflects a lived reality marked by overlapping systems of power, identity, and marginalization. Our goal is to ground this concept in truth, complexity, and lived experience. Intersectionality is not a buzzword—it is a mirror. It reflects the nuances, layers, and stories veterans carry, revealing why some struggle in silence while others remain unseen in systems never designed with us in mind. In my work, this lens has elevated voices too often excluded from critical conversations. It prompts deeper questions, not just “What did you do in the military?” but “Who were you in the military?” and “Who did you have to become?” These questions matter. Real healing, equity, and support begin when we fully recognize the humanity of every veteran. This leads us to our first question: What inspired your interest in examining veteran identity through an intersectional lens, and what key insights has this approach revealed in your work?

DM: While I am not a veteran myself, my advocacy and research have increasingly focused on intersectionality as it relates to military identity. As you mentioned, Dr. Grimes, the term intersectionality is often used as a buzzword, but its implications are far-reaching, particularly when we look beyond gender alone. As I progressed in my doctoral research, I initially focused on corporate nonprofit environments. But then a critical question emerged: “What about the experiences of women in the military, particularly those who are also caregivers?” Let’s consider the reality of a service member giving birth and being deployed just a few months later. What happens to the physical, emotional, and maternal well-being of that woman? How does she navigate postpartum recovery in isolation, return to service, and manage concerns about maternal attachment? There is an evident lack of literature exploring the reintegration of veteran mothers, how they readjust not only to civilian life but also to motherhood after military service. This intersectional lens has revealed the complexity and underexplored nature of these challenges. My goal is to share this research with clinicians, educators, and employers who support veterans, so they are better equipped to understand and assist women navigating these layered transitions.

LG: You touched on so many layers, and as a clinician and psychotherapist, your words brought me back to what first inspired me to explore this topic. For me, it started while I was still in uniform, witnessing not only how situations were handled but, more importantly, how they were ignored. The Army had a rigid framework that often failed to acknowledge the full identities of those it claimed to support. My perspective on veteran identity through an intersectional lens is deeply personal. I lived it. As a Black woman in the military, my experiences were shaped by race, gender, rank, and voice. The uniform was supposed to make us equal, but it never erased how I was perceived. I was treated differently, and more often than not, I was not seen at all. Some of my hardest moments did not come from combat. They came from navigating a system that was not built for someone like me. I worked twice as hard, spoke half as much, and remained composed even when I was exhausted. If you know me, you know I am not a quiet person. But in uniform, I had to be twice as disciplined. Still, I found strength. I found pride in mentoring, in supporting others, and in building community. I reminded those around me that we may not have built the system, but we still belong in it. Viewing veteran identity through this lens shows that service members do not bring one story. We bring identities shaped by race, gender, class, trauma, and triumph. If we are going to truly support veterans, we must see the full person, not just the rank or MOS [Military Occupational Specialty]. Many of us struggle after service because we were never seen as whole people to begin with. Intersectionality demands that we build better systems, create spaces of belonging, and honor the weight some of us carried long before we ever wore the uniform. Now, I would like to open the conversation to the rest of our panelists.

TD: I would say my lived experience as an African American male, as a person who once identified as gay, but after experiencing racism and anti-Blackness within the LGBTQ+ spaces, I do not identify as gay, but as a same gender loving (SGL) man. Because of my rank, MOS, and certain jobs I worked, I was consistently scrutinized in the military. I love to challenge and dissect present ideologies around veterans, which inspired my interest in examining veteran identity. The key insights revealed in my works is the discovery of Veteran Critical Theory (VTC). The theory was developed by Dr. Glen Phillips and Dr. Yvonne Lincoln, which analyzes student veterans’ experience in higher education. Which is the field that I work in and will remain in. Most importantly, I like how it challenges the policies and the structures within higher education institutions that affect veterans, because there’s so much deficit thinking regarding student veterans. The deficit thinking, on a macro level, affects all veterans and non-military affiliated students.

VM: One of the pieces that became super interesting to me is how, as veterans, we often put our military service in a box after we get out and say, “Okay, I did that, now it’s time to move on.” But our service stays with us in so many ways. I had a lot of experiences in the military—positive and negative. I think that’s also interesting about military service [that] it can be the worst of times and the best of times, all mixed together. The[n] the question becomes “How do you hold both of those things at the same time? That’s what my work with the mindfulness-based retreats and programs I’ve facilitated with veterans over the years brought up frequently. I started hearing the different narratives people shared, the different experiences they had, and how we want to make them, either good or bad, one way or the other. In actuality, most things are a mix of both. I started to get interested in the complexity of our experiences and how we are seen, share our experiences of our military service as veterans, and how we also do that with each other within the military community and veteran community. Society tries to create this one picture of what a veteran is instead of understanding the complexity of service and people who serve in the military. I became really interested in looking at the intersectionality within the veteran community because it is very different from civilian society. An example is how rank impact[s] people’s experience. Also, how does race, sexual orientation, gender, and other aspects of who we are affect how we view our military service and our experiences while in the military? There are also very military-specific things that impact our identity. For example, where you were stationed and what job you held. Were you in a job mainly male-dominated or were you in a more female-dominated job? Were you treated fairly, or, depending on how you identified, presented, or perceived, were you marginalized based on those things? There’s little to no information or research about these aspects of military service. How does that lack of research inform veteran services and the services people receive? Do LGBTQ+ veterans utilize VA services less because they are not seen or represented in programs and services? Are officers more likely than enlisted to enroll in VA care? Often, our stories aren’t seen as a part of the larger narrative. That is what really hooked me into this topic, as a veteran, woman, and a lesbian within the community and hearing others’ experiences. The impact of the experiences of oppression by providers and the things that providers say and do can be harmful. Also, how veteran services and programs can treat marginalized people wrongly is still happening, and while it may have gotten better in ways, there’s still a long way to go. Like you were saying, Dr. Grimes, about what happens is supposed to be a certain way, and then how it actually happens is a whole other thing, based on people’s own personal beliefs, providers’ beliefs, or other fellow veterans’ beliefs, our thoughts about who or what we are. We get generalized into categories that may not fit who we actually are.

LG: You said something, Dr. Meade, that really made me pause and reflect. Thinking about my own research, I realized there was something I had not considered before—the impact of duty stations. This is not something I had deeply thought about until now. We often focus on factors like rank, military occupational specialty, or whether a unit is male-dominated or has more women. However, the actual duty station itself carries significant weight. Every duty station carries a reputation, a culture, and a pattern. These characteristics shape our experiences in ways we might not fully realize until much later. Take Fort Hood for example, many of us immediately associate it with certain events. What is striking is that even individuals who have never served often say, “I’ve heard Fort Hood isn’t a good place.” That prompts the question “Why do they know that?” and “What has been communicated, either directly or indirectly, about these environments?” That point adds an important dimension to how we analyze and understand veteran identity and experience.

VM: Also, our branches of service. There’s that saying about whenever you’re PCS’ing from is the worst place in the military and the best place is where you’re going. Again, it’s how we are trained into either/or thinking.

LG: Sometimes I rather go back to my old duty station. As I mentioned earlier, one of the aspects I focused on in my research was the role of military branches. That constitutes a distinct identity. The Air Force is not the Army. The Coast Guard is not the Marines. The Navy brings its own unique culture as well. We are all called veterans but we are not all the same. Our jobs, MOS, and career pathways vary significantly. Even the core missions across branches differ. In my research, I found that civilians often struggle to understand the distinctions between someone still serving on active duty, someone who is no longer in service, or even which branch a person served in. This lack of understanding contributes to a broader issue in how veteran identity is perceived and generalized. These distinctions matter. They impact veterans in meaningful ways, shaping how they see themselves, how others perceive them, and how they navigate life beyond the military.

VM: The National Guard and Reserves versus the experiences of being on active duty is another example.

TD: What I’d like to add is challenging the definition of what a veteran is. Because you got those that did four years, never saw combat, and then you have those like us who are distinguished combat veterans. Due to our back-to-back deployments, it’s that contrast there that causes you to be conflicted on who is the “better veteran”. Lastly, who is worthy of getting benefits and assistance.

VM: Yes, and I’ve always been of the philosophy that we all signed the same papers to join, and you don’t have a choice about where you go, but it impacts your experience and identity based on where you get stationed or whether you served in combat or not. That affects how people view you as a veteran too, and these are things that are mostly beyond your control. Along with how you are treated regarding your race, sexual orientation, identity, etc. The impact of the culture of the command are big pieces that are important to consider as well.

LG: That’s an excellent point, and it transitions us smoothly into the next question: How has your understanding of veterans’ experiences evolved over time, particularly as we move away from treating veterans as a single, homogeneous group?

TD: I understand the complexity of veterans’ experience due to the multidimensional identities a person can have. Legal scholar Kimberly Crenshaw’s analytical framework, intersectionality, explains how some parts of our identity get benefits while other parts of our identities are disenfranchised. Student veterans come from a diverse range of age, class, gender, sexual orientation, and marriage status. Trying to treat veterans from a single lens, both negate and neglect other parts of identities that need assistance. Moreover, understanding intersectionality will assist with problem solving and general research to help complexities that come with a whole person.

VM: I will push back a little on this question about how we’ve moved beyond, because I don’t think we really have in so many ways. Most of the research has been done on white heterosexual male cis-gendered veterans. I know we are doing better, but have we actually gone beyond it? I think we’ve started to expand it, but I think where the problem lies still is the services being siloed. Who gets funding and for what impacts that. We often don’t see or talk about how a person of a certain race or a particular sexual orientation is not funded or has limited access to funding for research. All of us here have probably experienced that and I think that’s where the complexity of the research comes in. How do we provide services that are welcoming to all people, maybe without having to have the silos of service because perhaps you don’t fit in this silo or that one and you feel like you are fragmented by what is being addressed. Similar to what you are talking about; Kimberly Crenshaw’s work, sometimes veterans’ services only fit one part of what you are but doesn’t acknowledge the whole person of who you are. There is still a need for specialized services and programs until everything is equal. But I think, sometimes, we only specialize in one category or identity instead of understanding what’s there for people regarding their identity and the complexity of their experiences in the military. I don’t think we do a good job with that.

DM: I want to echo the points raised, especially Dr. Meade’s observation about the entrenched patriarchal hierarchy within military institutions. As an outsider to the military, I have long observed how this hierarchy continues to shape identity and power dynamics in gendered ways. In earlier generations, my mother and grandmother’s time, the concept of a woman serving in the military, let alone commanding within it, was radical. Their awe at such progression reflected both admiration and a deep-seated belief that such roles were inaccessible to women. These generational assumptions shaped my early perceptions, which have since been challenged and reshaped through both scholarship and advocacy. One of the most compelling insights I have encountered concerns the role of hierarchical organizational cultures and the unique strain they place on women within them. Women in military environments are often expected to simultaneously fulfill reproductive roles, provide care, maintain professional excellence, and model leadership, all within institutions that were not built with them in mind. This leads me to a critical question: Where are the voices of military mothers in our scholarship? Despite the growing literature on women in service, the specific intersection of motherhood and military identity remains conspicuously underexplored. It is crucial to distinguish between a woman’s choice not to have children and the sense of institutional constraint that may render motherhood feel impossible. The psychological consequences of this perceived lack of choice deserve closer scholarly attention. At present, this area remains a significant gap in our field.

VM: We rarely look at this, particularly in the active-duty population, which is spouses who are also veterans. That impacts women differently. Women are typically the ones who step back from military service to raise the families and do the household duties. Not everybody does that, but in most situations where that does occur, the woman does that. Women have a dual role in those families, as veterans and spouses of the people still serving. Many do not feel seen as veterans, just as spouses after they leave active duty.

LG: I would absolutely agree with both of you and Mercedes, when you were speaking, it brought up something deeply personal for me. The reason I chose not to have children while serving in the military was because it was just too hard. I served during a time when we were constantly deploying. You would return from one mission only to prepare for the next. Even when you were technically “back,” you weren’t really back. You were heading right into the field, gearing up again, already thinking about the next deployment. I was part of one of the first units extended for a 15-month deployment. We thought we were going for 12 months, and then it was extended; that changed everything. Those early decisions in my career, especially during those relentless deployment cycles, shaped how I envisioned my future. I knew then that I would not have children until after I retired. Watching other service members struggle to hold their families together, seeing kids being passed to relatives or raised by someone else, only to move again a year later, left a lasting impact. Even the standard PCS moves every few years created instability. I had battle buddies who were dual military, both on orders at the same time. Their family care plan fell through, and I stepped in to care for their children for nearly a year. If we hadn’t had that personal relationship, there would have been no safety net. And the military? They were prepared to discharge both parents because they had no one to care for their children. So, both of you bring up incredibly important points. To connect back to what Dr. Meade said earlier, have we truly moved beyond treating veterans as a single, homogeneous group? Honestly, I don’t think we have, not collectively. Individually?, yes. Some of us are doing the work, telling the truth, and naming the complexities. But for too long, the dominant narrative about veterans has been flat, one size fits all. Patriotic. Disciplined. Tough. While those things may be part of who we are, they are far from the whole story.

VM: We’re all green.

LG: We often say we wear the same uniform and bleed the same color, but that doesn’t capture the full story, especially for those who navigated racism, sexism, trauma, and silence while serving. Veteran identity is not monolithic. We do not all return the same way, access care the same way or heal the same way. Treating veterans as a single group erases the distinct challenges faced by women, LGBTQ+ service members, veterans of color, individuals with disabilities, and those with invisible trauma. My perspective has shifted from honoring service alone to honoring the full person behind it, their story, struggle, and strength that may not align with traditional notions of what a veteran should be. This shift matters. When we make space for the full truth of veterans’ experiences, we unlock better support, deeper healing, and real equity. While we often claim to value equality, the truth is many are not prepared to do what equality truly requires.

TD: Right. It’s an illusion.

LG: Yes, exactly. That leads us into our next question: What are some of the most common misconceptions about veteran identity that you encounter in your work, and how do these misconceptions impact the lived experiences of veterans?

TD: Let’s start with identity as a standalone first. Because looking at veteran identity, the discourse always stems from a heteronormative, white, male and conservative perspective. For example, from my personal experience, upon mentioning to people about my veteran status, I would see their body language and tone transition from the nonverbal look of hostility to the verbal ‘thank you for your service’. Because I didn’t fit the prototype in their mind of what a veteran is—to them I’m just some regular menacing looking Black guy. Secondly, I would say with the veteran identity as a whole, despite the distinguished differences, the ideology surrounding veterans by non-military affiliated civilians entails the belief that veterans are war fatigued. Additionally, we’re mentally damaged and we have the culpability of being a burden and a menace to society. I would say that disparate thinking affects us. Furthermore, this affects public perception and their willingness to help advocate for us by developing policies that can benefit us. Because right now, believe it or not, our benefits are in jeopardy. A lot of things are in jeopardy because of that. I’m a disabled combat veteran who is a caretaker to my grandmother. As a veteran who is a caregiver, you don’t see any narratives out there with my identity of being a veteran caregiver. Even when we talk about caregivers and veterans who are caregivers, it’s always from a heteronormative standpoint.

LG: You’re right, veteran identity is often judged through a narrow, stereotypical lens. Your experience as both a veteran and caregiver challenge those assumptions. To ensure real support and equity, we must broaden the narrative to include diverse lived experiences like yours.

DM: Travis, I want to draw attention to the often narrow framing of caregiving in our conversations. Traditionally, caregiving has been equated with parenthood, typically motherhood, centered around caring for children. However, this definition is insufficient. The transition from caring for a child to becoming a caregiver for a parent is a profound shift, one that is often overlooked in policy and academic discussions. Caregiving exists along a spectrum and includes those tending to elderly relatives, disabled family members, or individuals coping with trauma. Each of these experiences carries unique emotional and logistical challenges. I also want to highlight a widespread and reductive misconception that the idea that all veterans share a monolithic identity. As a woman without military service, I have learned through my research that this myth is inaccurate and actively harmful, particularly for female veterans who also serve as caregivers. These women frequently experience double marginalization, are excluded from male-centric veteran support models and are unsupported within civilian systems that fail to grasp their layered responsibilities and traumas. My understanding of this deepened significantly through literature on military sexual trauma and institutional betrayal, which reveals how systemic neglect can damage trust, reinforce isolation, and obstruct reintegration. This issue is not abstract and affects veteran mothers’ daily lives, their access to trauma-informed care, employment, and community support. Reintegration programs that fail to consider child-centered needs and gender-specific realities are symptomatic of institutions still entrenched in hegemonic masculinity. Without structural change, we risk silencing these voices further.

LG: When I think about returning from deployment, the reintegration process felt like a check-the-box activity. If no one spoke up, we were assumed to be fine. But if we did speak up, we risked everything, our careers, housing, and stability. The system claimed to care but punished honesty and rewarded silence. Compliance was the goal. I told my soldiers, “It’s soldiers first, mission last,” and I meant it. I was labeled a rebel for prioritizing my team’s well-being. Years later, those same soldiers still reach out to say, ‘thank you’. They’re now in leadership roles, carrying that same standard forward. One of the biggest misconceptions is that everything falls into place after service, that benefits are automatic, and healing begins right away. In reality, many of us carry unaddressed wounds, especially those from marginalized communities. We leave one system only to face another that’s fragmented and inequitable. Access to care is not distributed fairly. Programs like SHARP [Sexual Harassment/Assault Response and Prevention] often fail because of internal dynamics that enable retaliation and silence. I speak up because silence is harmful. I was sexually assaulted as a young private and I didn’t report it initially. But when I learned he had harmed another soldier, I came forward. That single act revealed years of abuse. These stories complicate what it means to serve and to heal, but they must be told. The more we speak the truth about our experiences, the more we can build systems that support all veterans.

TD: Before we all move forward and speaking of military sexual assault, I would say unfortunately the culture and the climate of the military supports the predators. As a person who’s a victim advocate, because I was sexually assaulted by a soldier who was our battalion maintenance officer, who I saw as a father figure, being that I am homosexual and was labeled the problem soldier at that time, [and] it happened while Don’t ask, Don’t tell was in effect. Looking back at it, he knew that my word would’ve been against his, if I’d reported it—I was the rebel soldier.

LG: Absolutely. That resonates deeply. There is so much truth in what you said. Many of us carry similar stories but often lack the space or safety to share them. Naming those experiences helps break the silence and moves us closer to real healing and accountability.

TD: Being that I was the rebel soldier, my leadership would have had an easier way to kick me out of the military. Additionally, sweep things under the rug if I were to report it and he knew that.

LG: Yes, I understand that deeply. When someone is already seen as the “rebel,” the system often labels them as the problem rather than addressing the harm. Speaking up becomes even more dangerous, not just because it is dismissed, but because it is punished. That fear is real, and the fact that he knew it reflects how power is used to silence those who already feel isolated.

TD: And knowing that because of the climate and the culture of protecting predators, it forces people not to speak. And, even getting out and talking about it your victim blamed even more, especially as a male. It’s like, why didn’t you fight it off? Why did you do this? Why didn’t I do X, Y, Z? And it’s like, wait a minute. So as a male, I’m not allowed to be victimized.

DM: That is an excellent point, Travis.

LG: This has brought up a lot of feelings for many of us.

VM: I’m also a sexual assault survivor and I think just the fact that the three veterans here experienced that says a lot about military culture, right? Also, because we have marginalized identities. What’s coming up for me around the era is also so important, especially when people have served. Travis, you discussed being in the military pre-Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. I also served in that era and after it was instituted while in the National Guard. While we were deployed, people either found out, or you are trying to do everything you can for them not to. You’re changing pronouns, all the things that you do to try to talk about your life in response to even a simple question like, “What’d you do this weekend?” They kicked out more people under Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell than before that era. But when we were deployed, people started to wonder and question depending on who you were talking about and to. A huge piece for people with marginalized identities in the LGBTQ+ community was your chain of command and how they work with these issues. It was probably the most critical factor as to whether people were held accountable for discrimination and bias, or if it was allowed to continue. That’s another piece that impacts people’s experience. And now, in the current era and now what’s happening with our trans service members, it’s been a horrible impact of when you can serve—you’re in, you’re out, you’re in, you’re out. I mean, literally, you can’t be out [or] you’re being kicked out. We’re going through this again right now. Another common misconception about people is their political affiliation. People assume, at least where I live in a very conservative state; Alaska, that because you are a veteran, [that] you’re conservative.

LG: Yes. It highlights how layered these experiences are, especially for those of us who served while hiding parts of ourselves.

VM: When you take that component into consideration, I think we’re talking about two things regarding how we’re perceived. As veterans, how we perceive ourselves and how we perceive each other. The misconceptions we have about our service. I don’t know how many times other veterans automatically put what their service was onto my service. I’m like, “Whoa, that’s not what my service was like, at all.” Kind of like what we discussed earlier. I think that’s an important distinction between how the society perceives us, how we perceive ourselves as veterans with each other, and how we perceive our own experiences and identity.

LG: That really resonated with me. When people say, “That wasn’t my service,” I often respond, “This is the one I lived.” Speaking more openly about my experience, which I call my “villain era,” led to some pushback. Many of my battle buddies didn’t believe me until I broke it down. But they weren’t Black women in leadership, surrounded by white men in a combat aviation brigade. Even when I tried to advocate for soldiers, especially male survivors, I wasn’t taken seriously. One male soldier reported sexual harassment by a female NCO, and leadership dismissed it and me, assuming I was being difficult. They ignored his report because he was a man, which is both harmful and unjust. So that leads us to the present moment. With recent legislative changes, I want to ask this: How has applying an intersectional lens transformed your understanding of military service, particularly when it comes to recognizing narratives and identities that have historically been overlooked or silenced?

TD: With applying an intersectional lens to my work, it has personally transformed my understanding regarding how I was treated by my colleagues during my military service. As I mentioned before, as a Black man, I’ve held many leadership positions. Despite my awards and accolades, I received them throughout my career, my leadership decisions and work were always under extra scrutiny; either by my superiors, my peers, and subordinates. Even when talking about my career in random conversations, upon talking about my truth, I am always asked why situations happened to me. To fully comprehend this, an individual must apply an intersectional lens to understand my life’s experience. As a Black man, my intelligence is perceived through a eugenics lens and a scientific racist lens. Which developed a specific ideology of how my intelligence is formed. Eugenicists were essential actors in promoting racial segregation and its social inclusion. Moreover, this social ill has transferred into American and military culture. Scientific racism influenced the development of intelligence tests. Let’s talk about the Armed Forces Qualifications test—a component of the armed services, vocational aptitude tests. This metric was used to pretty much qualify certain recruits for distinguished MOS jobs and positions. For instance, a service member can ascertain another service member’s GT score level by the job they had in the military. As an example, I worked as a unit supply specialist. It did not require a stellar GT score. However, when other veterans inquired about what my job was in the Army, they would already have a negative perception of my GT [General Technical] score and my intelligence level–upon telling them my MOS. Ergo intelligence tests and negative public perceptions contributed to the ideology of black males being academically inferior. I would say the subconscious, implicit biases about Black[ness] and maleness are often perceived, with athletic prowess over intellectual acumen. Furthermore, as a homosexual man, my leadership was often challenged due to my sexuality. Because I didn’t fit the heteronormative standards of what leadership entails, especially being a male.

LG: What you’re naming really shows how deeply those systemic biases are baked into the structure, not just the culture, of military service. For those of us who served, when you brought up ASVAB [Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery] testing and how it placed us in certain jobs, did you ever notice specific ethnicities being overrepresented in certain MOS fields?

TD: Absolutely, because if you look at the units I was in—mostly in engineer units and four-star billets—with my MOS, Quartermaster is majority Black, but if you look at Intelligence [MOS], it’s mostly white or Asian with just a spec of Black or a spec of others.

LG: Yep, exactly and once you start seeing that pattern, you can’t unsee it. It really makes you question how much of that is systemic versus coincidental.

TD: Or if you see special duties where I did have a certain level of clearance. I was based out of Brunssum in the Netherlands and there weren’t too many of “me” in that organization. Because working in certain locations and positions, where you have a certain level of visibility with unlimited resources, you can’t carry your phones in sanitized areas. Being that there was no phone, [this] equated to no proof, they—white and other anti-Black racial groups/superiors—felt more emboldened to convey their anti-Blackness and implicit biases towards me, knowing they can get away with it.

LG: That point really stood out to me too, especially when you mentioned GT scores. I was Quartermaster as well, and I remember wondering how so many of us ended up in support roles despite scoring 110 or higher—what we were told was the benchmark for more technical or elite MOS positions. As I looked across other fields like HR [Human Resources] and logistics, I noticed a clear overrepresentation of certain racial and ethnic groups. It began to feel less like coincidence and more like a systemic pattern. When we examine how ASVAB and GT scores were used and compare outcomes across units, it becomes difficult not to question the structure itself. I agree it needs to be called out, because it reflects a deeper racialized pattern in how roles and opportunities were distributed.

TD: Scientifically racist. Absolutely! Because it’s based on eugenics.

VM: I also appreciate hearing what you’re saying about the racist aspect of the strategic system, policies and things that dictate only certain people being allowed to serve in specific jobs or to do certain things. I’m going to challenge again the question that we’ve kind of moved on or are doing something different. Unfortunately, it’s hard for me to say right now that the monolithic veteran identity is being challenged. I don’t feel like it is. I feel like it’s trying to be reinstated. So, the sentiment to me is, that what is currently happening is intentional, and the policy changes and the rhetoric are being reverted to that more monolithic lens of the past. We need to stand up and challenge this reversal and support both individuals, people, and organizations doing the work of equity and equality. The VA [Department of Veterans Affairs] banning pride flags, people removing history from websites about veterans of color, and all the things that are happening right now affect the way people view us. Still, it also affects the services people receive and sometimes how we view ourselves and our own service. People don’t understand is now we are walking into a place, and the pride flags have all been removed from VA facilities. Employees cannot have a pride flag [and] they can’t wear a rainbow flag. It is the utter and complete opposite of what it was a few months ago. That flip flop and how that just creates such anxiety and angst for people, and then not feeling like they can[t] even go into these facilities and be seen, or for folks that have had bad experiences and do not want to subject themselves to more in an unsafe environment. You can’t just say, “Oh, you’re welcome here” when you don’t see or feel that when you walk in with all the systemic marginalization and bias. Representation, as we all know, matters. If you’re not seeing or feeling that, then you’re not going to go in for services, which honestly might be the goal, for people not to come in or get those services.

LG: Yes, and what you said really highlights how these rollbacks aren’t just symbolic, they directly impact who feels safe, seen, and supported when walking into those spaces.

VM: I think that’s something now as veterans that we can really do or try to do better. It is really to bring this narrative forward that we are diverse and we have served our country. We deserve to have the services regardless of when our service was, whether in combat or not, embracing all our intersecting identities. We are all veterans, which is the one thing we have in common. We can break out of the silos and stop generalizing our experiences to every other veteran’s experience. We can stop questioning each other’s experience, as if ours is the only one that happens. We need to listen and understand what other veterans are going through and create advocacy and change by coming together instead of being divisive.

LG: Agreed. I think the more we lead with unity while honoring our differences, the more powerfully we shift the narrative around who veterans really are.

DM: I want to begin by validating and echoing the perspectives shared here, particularly from my vantage point as an organizational psychologist. My professional background bridges education and human resources, with a career-long focus on civil rights, workplace civility, and Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI). As a DEI and HR professional, I have worked extensively in veteran recruitment, program development, and policy advocacy, designing initiatives to support veterans in civilian workplaces. My current work involves consulting with organizations on how to create inclusive environments for veterans and their families. These often-intense discussions have uncovered a significant misunderstanding. Many organizational leaders are unfamiliar with the realities of veteran reentry, reintegration, and the complex needs associated with recruiting and retaining veterans. One area that remains especially under-addressed is the family dimension of veteran life. Even before recent political shifts, support for veteran families was inconsistent. Today, many Employee Assistance Programs (EAPs) have been scaled back or underutilized. Veterans must be informed that emotional, mental, and familial resources are available, reliable, and accessible. Unfortunately, what we are witnessing is a troubling regression. The public image of the veteran remains narrow—white, male, heterosexual, able-bodied—and often viewed as culturally distinct from civilian communities. This reductive framing erases the diversity of veteran identities, experiences, and needs. This oversimplification strips away complexity in a space that already struggles to accommodate nuance. The stakes are high. Veterans return home after having made unimaginable sacrifices. At the same time, the rest of us enjoyed our barbecues, and we now ask them to reintegrate without offering the necessary structural and psychological support. In this context, advocacy, regulatory change, and policy development are not optional. They are essential.

LG: One thing that continues to surface in these conversations is the importance of speaking up. There is an ongoing effort, sometimes subtle and sometimes direct, to silence us. In my own experience, I saw this clearly when African American women were removed from veteran-focused platforms. Around the same time, I had a medical appointment. Despite having documentation of a previous hip replacement and being scheduled for another, the provider told me the pain I was experiencing was “in my head.” It was immediately clear they had not reviewed my chart. But more importantly, even if they had, the issue remained—I was telling them what I was experiencing, and they still dismissed it. In addition to my physical health concerns, I am also diagnosed with ADHD [Attention-deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder], which is well documented in my medical records. When I followed up regarding a medication refill, I was told to download social media apps as a suggested method to manage my symptoms—I was stunned. What I needed was support for overstimulation, not additional stimulation. When I pushed back and asked how they arrived at that suggestion without evaluation or context, the provider responded with, “My education,” as if that somehow outweighed my lived experience and my academic and clinical training. That entire encounter was invalidating and dehumanizing. I was able to advocate for myself because I had the language, the background, and the confidence to do so. But what about everyone else? What about the people who do not know how to advocate for themselves or who have already internalized this kind of medical gaslighting? That is why we must keep speaking up. The systems meant to support us are still failing far too many, especially those of us navigating multiple marginalized identities. What about the other veterans? When that provider leaned on their education as justification, I responded clearly. I said, “Great, I have a doctorate degree as well in Clinical Mental Health Counseling and Counselor Education and Supervision. So, according to the DSM-5, please show me how you arrived at this diagnosis. I would like to read along with you.” Their next response was, “Well, when I go to the doctor, I just let the doctor be the doctor.” So, my question became, are you saying you would allow yourself to be misdiagnosed and that patients should just accept whatever is said to them, without question? The conversation went on from there, but the core issue was already clear. It took quite some time to get reassigned to another doctor because I refused to go back to someone who had completely dismissed and disrespected me. I ended up going without my medication for a long time, not because I wanted to, but because I could not justify the emotional toll of having to fight for basic care. Even in that moment, my concern extended beyond myself. I kept thinking, what about the veterans who are not as informed or equipped to speak this language or advocate for themselves? That is the deeper issue. It is real, and it is ongoing. The struggle to access equitable and respectful care is not new, but it is intensifying. Current legislation is sending us backward, not forward, and what we are witnessing is a rise in bold, blatant racism, including within the very systems that are supposed to provide care.

TD: I’m educated and have advocated for myself, and it takes me back to what these other veterans are going through. Being a homosexual male, engaging in sex and being on PrEP [Pre-exposure Prophylaxis] for eight years, prior to getting on PrEP, I asked a previous primary care provider (PCP) for a whole panel STI [Sexually Transmitted Infection] check. I had a doctor asking me why I need it and inquired about if I am being sexually promiscuous—he was very aggressive in his approach. I politely reminded him what professionalism entails. Moreover, I informed him that his job is supposed to provide me with care. I said, “If you don’t want to give me care, we can go ahead and go to the ombudsman.” Additionally, I informed him that I’ll contact the medical board. Consequently, he backed up and got somebody else to help me. But when I told my story, the other veterans who are LGBTQ/same gender loving, they told me that’s the same doctor that treated them the same way. But they felt so intimidated to do anything about it. In essence, I was the first person to say something and to blow the whistle. So being that we’re regressing further back, I would say it’s very apparent that we should empower other veterans and military-affiliated dependents to make care providers and those who are supposed to serve us do their job. We must know the source of power. That’s the work that we’re going to have to do.

LG: Absolutely. That leads us to an important question: How do intersecting identities, such as race, gender, and sexual orientation, impact veterans’ access to support services, and what systemic barriers persist in veteran systems that disproportionately affect marginalized groups? While we’ve touched on this, the reality is that many still deny these disparities exist. This reminds me of my early military career. After a year or two of service, I began experiencing severe medical issues. Despite scoring a 300 on my PT [Physical Training] test, I was falling out of runs, exhausted, and in constant pain. I kept being told nothing was wrong. I explained my symptoms repeatedly, but I was dismissed. Eventually, my command team recognized something was wrong. They advised me to call my mother to advocate on my behalf. As a civilian, she contacted the post commander, triggering a formal inquiry. Only then did the hospital take me seriously, conduct proper exams, and confirm I needed surgery. That experience revealed how often care is delayed or denied unless someone with perceived authority intervenes. It should not require outside pressure to access appropriate healthcare in the military system. But for many veterans, especially those with multiple marginalized identities, external advocacy becomes the only path to being seen and treated with respect. It was incredibly disheartening to be actively serving, with a command team that genuinely cared and advocated for me, yet still having to fight for basic medical care. Unfortunately, many service members today are not as fortunate. Concerns are often dismissed with phrases like “suck it up” or “there’s nothing wrong with you,” or ignored due to leadership structures that avoid accountability. After separation, veterans are frequently left to navigate these systems alone [and] the question remains: Who is advocating for us now? Who ensures we receive the care and services we were promised? It is a serious issue, and the most frustrating part is that the system continues to act as if the problem does not exist.

VM: Based on what you all were talking about, I also just really appreciate the conversation that we’re having. I wish we had more of these kinds of conversations in our military and veteran communities. Because this is the path forward. I think one of the things that comes up for me around access and what you were saying is, that I’m a licensed psychologist and clinical social worker. The system itself has been so complicated for me at times, too, where I’ve almost given up. Folks often don’t have the background, experience or the ability to feel like they can speak up because [of] how we are trained in the military; we’re taught not to question things. We follow orders and do what we are told. But then you get out and you must become an advocate for yourself in a way that you maybe you don’t have the experience for or based on whatever you’ve been told and how you’ve been marginalized, then you are just like, “Okay, they’re not going to listen to me anyway.” I think that’s a huge piece of a systemic barrier. We passed all these policies, and change was happening, and now we’re reverting to prior discriminatory policies. Even when we were passing policies that were more progressive in how we view and value people and the intersectional lens of experience, the problem was that they didn’t do the training with the people providing the services. More importantly, they also didn’t hold people accountable for things that are happening that are not okay when people go in for healthcare services. As you mentioned Travis and Dr. Grimes, things are still happening, and there are systemic issues. They never went away and continue to happen, and now they’re going to be worse for some people, with no accountability for discrimination, and for others who still have been experiencing it all along. How do we advocate for ourselves and create an avenue of advocacy for ourselves within the veteran community and continue to stand up whenever we experience oppression? I had a provider ask me during my C&P exam, “Oh, do you think it was worse for you being sexually assaulted because you’re a lesbian?” That kind of thing happens often, and people do not think it does. The same provider said, “God doesn’t give you anything more than what you can handle.” I reported it and didn’t get any response.

LG: I can personally relate to that experience, both professionally and through my own navigation of these systems.

VM: I have these things written down, and it’s unbelievable that they’re still happening. We must talk about how we need to bring these experiences forward and say, “This is not okay.” But now, honestly, we’re in a system where those things aren’t going to be heard, right? Even less so than five months ago. I’m also at a place of asking, what do we do? I think it can also be exciting to support each other by standing up, creating networks, and advocating for each other. That’s the only thing that’s going be able to shift these things. The stories about what is occurring being heard and those getting out into public view, and then to legislators. So, the legislators can do the work that we’ve voted them in to do.

LG: A major issue lies in how overlapping identities create compounded barriers. When you shared your experience with sexual assault and the provider’s dismissive response, I was reminded of a similar moment when I sought treatment for PTSD. At one point, my symptoms were so severe that even my command team, who were incredibly supportive, noticed a drastic change in my behavior. They contacted my previous duty stations and were told, “That doesn’t sound like her at all.” Their concern and initiative pushed me to seek help, leading to an 8- to 9-week intensive treatment program at Walter Reed [Medical Army Center]. After completing the program, I expected professionalism and support. Instead, a provider told me, “Wow, I thought those things only happened in movies.” As I tried to explain how my aversion to certain foods and smells was tied to my trauma, that comment invalidated my experience. It reduced my pain to entertainment, and I had to advocate for myself during treatment. Once again, the system was not built to believe me. This reflects broader systemic issues: cultural stigma around mental health—especially in communities of color, lack of provider diversity and cultural competence, gendered assumptions that minimize the needs of women veterans, and underreporting and misclassification of trauma particularly among LGBTQ+ and other marginalized communities. Outreach models often fail to connect with veterans outside traditional networks. On a policy level, provider bias, insufficient training on intersectionality, and identity being treated as a checkbox rather than a lived experience remain serious concerns. That mindset, embedded in the military, has unfortunately followed me into the civilian systems meant to support us.

TD: I believe a lot of that apathy came from people who wanted those change agents to make change and to do the work. But you have those powerful agents who are strictly performative in their work. I am speaking about those who don’t want change because of their comfortability. If we look at these support systems, nonprofits, and other elements of the VA, services were developed for the nuclear, heteronormative traditional family. Because I’m the head of household, and a single person caregiver to my grandmother. The perception is that I’m an able-bodied person. In turn, I am afforded all opportunities to work, and I shouldn’t have any reliance on support services. However, the narrative out there about my grandmother is that she’s older, she shouldn’t need any support services. Furthermore, the narrative entails that all elderly people get social security and retirement. But that’s not the case with my grandmother. She is in her older age, paying student loans from the 1980s [and] she doesn’t get social security. There’s a lot of systemic factors that hinder her ability to obtain employment as a young grandmother and a single parent. Also, there are these statistics and systemic barriers that persist. Without an intersectional approach, a lot of funding can be earmarked to help veterans of all identities are spent to support a certain demographic of veterans and military personnel.

DM: As researchers, we often stand on a vast foundation of empirical evidence, rich data that supports our claims and informs our work. However, it becomes evident that personal experiences can differ significantly from what is presented in the literature. It is, in fact, a markedly distinct experience. This reinforces the realization that while research is valuable, it is not always sufficient. Additional theoretical and applied work is necessary. We are observing the intersection of scholarship and phenomenology, the juncture at which research converges with the realities of identity, pain, resilience, and exclusion. This is especially apparent in the layered identities of LGBTQ veterans. Historical policies such as “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” have left lasting scars. Research now shows that LGBTQ veterans are more likely to experience symptoms of PTSD, anxiety, and depression, but are simultaneously less likely to seek care through the VA due to fears of judgment or a lack of cultural understanding by providers. This disconnects between service needs and utilization reveals that institutions intended to promote veterans’ wellness may unintentionally reproduce trauma if they lack cultural empathy and compassionate competence. Bridging this gap must be a priority in both research and practice.

LG: I believe we have strong research available, but the real gap lies in implementation. Many individuals are deeply invested, doing the research, advocating, and using their voices. The problem is not a lack of knowledge; it is the lack of action that follows. Looking ahead, and as our final question: How can institutions and policymakers better incorporate intersectional frameworks into veteran support services and programs? And what changes would we like to see in society, media, and institutional approaches to understanding veteran identity? There’s a lot I could say, but these aren’t new ideas. We’ve been saying the same things for years. We know we need culturally responsive training, a more diverse provider workforce, reforms to outdated VA intake and eligibility processes, funding for community-based programs, increased transparency and audits, and most importantly, the centering of actual veteran voices when designing policies. The truth is, it’s not that we don’t know what to do, the research exists, the advocacy is happening, and the needs have been clearly named. Reports have been written [and] data has been shared; the real issue is the lack of implementation. It’s not about figuring it out anymore—It’s about having the courage to act. When I think about the change I want to see in society and media, it’s this: stop flattening our stories, stop checking boxes, and start doing the work. The solutions already exist. The question is, who is ready to do more than just talk? The reality is that those in positions of power to create meaningful change are not enforcing the actions we already know are necessary. The policies have been outlined, the gaps identified, and the solutions proposed but, without accountability and enforcement, it remains just talk.

TD: I used to work in the Office of Government Relations at my school and going back and forth to DC [District of Columbia] and having some insight. I would say that these politicians have oligarchs in their pockets. Instead of taking care of the people who voted for them, some politicians don’t have an understanding of what an intersectional framework entails, which is already out there. Because if these politicians were to implement the intersectional framework and, for example, veteran support services and programs, they would consider all types of families. Within the military culture, which is always a microcosm of the American public, not everybody has the traditional heteronormative style of families. Because there’s many different types of families, I would say institutions and policymakers need to be brave and resilient when making progressive policies. It starts with not cracking to the overzealous demands of these oligarchs and societal pressures. Because there are so many colorblind policies out there that are very pervasive and oppressive—they intentionally overshadow the color conscious policies that can help distinguish groups equally. On the one hand, colorblind policies on the surface seem to be promoting fairness. However, these policies intentionally ignore distinguished human variances like ethnicity or race by fostering an illusion of a harmonic environment. Furthermore, colorblind policies can perpetuate the same systems, inequalities they swore to combat and dismantle.

VM: I just try to keep coming back to, and this is not by any means an excuse, progress does take time. When I get discouraged, I try to take it to a 30,000-foot view and see how far we have come. But now, they are literally systemically erasing people’s experiences, identities, and cultural experiences, and [the] horrible impact of that. I think it is so crucial that we stand up. In my work, social justice is centered, and I think we have to do that as veterans. Thich Nhat Hahn, a Vietnamese monk who died several years ago and who did so much work for peace and justice, said, “US war veterans are the light at the tip of the candle. As veterans, we illuminate the way for the whole nation.” I think we can change things if we can find ways for both active duty and veterans, particularly those of us who took the oath to protect and defend the Constitution of the United States, to focus on the importance of that common ground in our work. So many of us still believe in that [and] that’s the way forward. Focusing on what has upheld our country and our democracy and what we’ve all signed the line to uphold and defend, as well as to recognize the historical impacts of oppression. I think that’s where our power lies, organizing and creating connections and community with each other that makes things better for everybody, not just marginalized communities. This isn’t about somebody getting more than somebody else. That’s not what this is about, this is about people getting basic rights. They can get services they’ve earned, just like every veteran. I think that’s where our power lies, not getting brought down by what’s happening, but understanding every progressive movement has a regression that occurs after big changes. I’m not saying that’s okay, but historically, it is what has happened. How do we step into being a part of the solution of moving it forward again as veterans? We can do that.

LG: You made a powerful point. This really comes down to the fact that we are simply asking for basic necessities to be accessible to all. Yet that request is often met with resistance; why? Because that resistance is rooted in racism. It is not about resource scarcity, it is about denying others, especially those who have been historically marginalized, access to the same tools. There is a fear that if equity is achieved, someone might accomplish more with less, and that challenges the illusion of superiority. That is how systemic racism sustains itself—by controlling access.

What it really boils down to is not wanting someone else to have access and we are witnessing that in real time. We are in an era where many of the individuals who voted certain leaders into office were perfectly fine with the policies, until those same policies began to impact them personally. Then it became, “Wait, wait, wait, I wanted change, but not like this, not when it affects me.” The irony is they are now asking to reverse decisions they previously supported, not realizing that they have long been the primary beneficiaries of DEI efforts. It was never the marginalized groups receiving most of the resources or advantages they feared we were and that opens up a broader conversation.

DM: As a scholar-practitioner in human resources and organizational psychology, I work at the intersection of systems change, leadership development, and civil rights. My goal is to challenge dominant narratives that shape organizational behavior, particularly those that exclude the voices of marginalized individuals. I recognize this perspective may seem provocative in today’s shifting political landscape. I’ve observed a growing influence of emotion and ideology over data in decision-making related to DEI. Executive leaders and organizational policies are prioritizing perception over performance, optics over outcomes. This shift undermines the long-standing goal of creating evidence-based, accountable, and inclusive institutions. The narrative of “colorblindness,” of not “seeing race,” is a prime example. While presented as fair or neutral, it erases structural realities and perpetuates inequity by ignoring meaningful, systemic differences. The push to discredit terms like intersectionality in academia and policy is troubling. Initially, a critical tool for understanding complex, overlapping disadvantages, intersectionality now faces legitimacy challenges. Additionally, terms like diversity are being removed from official documents to depoliticize inclusive frameworks. In veteran[s] studies, this regression is particularly harmful. At the intersection of gender, race, disability, and employment status, the loss of intersectional analysis silences crucial aspects of veteran identity and experience. It reinforces a sanitized narrative of veteran-hood that excludes many of the very individuals most in need of support. For leaders committed to long-term, inclusive change, defending the tools of critical analysis is essential, not optional. While emotions and personal narratives hold value, they must complement, rather than replace, evidence. Only by embracing both can we achieve meaningful, systemic progress.

LG: This is exactly why lived experience[s] must align with scholarship. People often dismiss DEI and intersectionality as purely emotional, but the data supports our claims. Colorblindness may sound appealing, but it erases real struggles. If you do not see color, you do not see me. Removing intersectionality dilutes the truth—veterans are not a monolith. Emotions matter, but they are grounded in lived experiences, not just feelings. We need both data and authentic voices to drive real, lasting change.

DM: A key finding from my doctoral research in quantitative methods reveals that even the most complex human emotions, including love, joy, grief, and trauma, can be systematically assessed. The social sciences have a rich history of developing and validating tools to quantify emotional experiences. However, this ability is still not fully utilized in meeting the diverse needs of veterans. Specifically, in areas such as psychological safety, PTSD management, and veterans’ reintegration—we lack standardized data-informed benchmarks for policy and practice. Mainstream narratives prioritize heroism and resilience, especially among white, able-bodied male veterans, while simultaneously discouraging expressions of vulnerability and emotional complexity. This creates a paradox—we celebrate service but silence the psychological realities that arise from it. The absence of intersectional data reinforces inequities, allowing emotional appeals to replace evidence, thus perpetuating exclusion based on race, gender, disability, and sexual orientation. To facilitate authentic reform, we must transition toward evidence-based frameworks that emphasize measurable outcomes over subjective interpretations. A data-driven methodology validates the diverse experiences of veterans while also establishing the groundwork for equitable, targeted, and accountable interventions.

LG: First, I want to thank everyone for being here, for showing up fully, and for amplifying the work you have already been doing in your communities and fields. Thank you not only for sharing your expertise but also for going deep and offering parts of your lived experience, especially the difficult parts we do not always plan to share. I know I did not plan to speak on certain topics today, but the conversation called for honesty, and I am grateful we honored that. Your research, your voice, your truth, all of it added meaningful depth to this dialogue. This conversation was not just about storytelling; it was about truth-telling, and the truth is, veteran identity is not something you can sum up in a soundbite. It is layered, complex, and intersectional. We owe it to ourselves and to one another to keep having conversations like this.

Final Reflections

LG: Lived experience is shaped by systems that were not built to hold our full identities. As we have heard today, race, gender, sexual orientation, trauma, and resilience do not exist in isolation. They intersect and shape how we serve, survive, and heal after service. Moving forward, the goal is not to ask veterans to shrink to fit systems, but to challenge systems to grow and meet all veterans where they are. This should not be a one-time conversation, but a call to reimagine care and policy that honors every part of our story. Growth requires discomfort. Our identities are not complications; they are completions. Every veteran deserves to be fully seen. Thank you for showing up, for listening, and for holding space. Whether you served or not, your presence here matters. Thank you for contributing to this dialogue.

VM: I’d like to acknowledge it’s the Memorial Day weekend when we’re having this conversation and the impact on that with all of us and for those that have served, and those that haven’t. Taking a moment to honor the people we’ve lost.

LG: I’m glad you named that. As we approach Memorial Day weekend, it’s important to remember why these conversations matter. We are not only honoring lives lost in uniform, but also acknowledging the emotional weight carried by those still living with the aftermath. For many, it is more than a holiday, it is a moment of reflection, a potential trigger, and a reminder of the sacrifices that often go unspoken.

TD: This was totally necessary, and what we did was we added another layer in the building block of providing resources out there. Not just resources, but resources for further research, strategies, and ideas that can help us and future veterans. Without having this sacred space at this moment and in this time of regression, we would have slowed down progression within ourselves by not having this roundtable.

VM: I was just going to add that we can all still serve, and many of us still serve as veterans. Many of us joined to be a part of something larger than ourselves. As veterans, we can still do that. There’s a place for everybody.

LG: I appreciate you naming that, because service doesn’t end when the uniform comes off. For many of us, that’s when our purpose deepens. We continue the mission through advocacy, research, mentorship, and truth-telling. There is still space for each of us to lead, be seen, and serve in ways that reflect the complexity of our identities. That reminder, that there is room for all of us, is how we continue to redefine what it means to be a veteran.

DM: As a civilian, I want to express my gratitude for inviting me to this discussion. It has been a great privilege to be here, especially on Memorial Day. I honestly cannot think of a more meaningful way to commemorate this day. Thank you for this experience. I’m deeply grateful for the opportunity to use my voice to help amplify the voices of our veterans. Thank you for your service.

Recommendations for Further Research and Roundtable Discussions

This roundtable has demonstrated the necessity of expanding intersectional inquiry into veteran identity to inform academic scholarship and to advance equity within institutional systems and care delivery. Future research should explore how experiences vary across military branches, service periods, ranks, and duty stations. The culture, reputation, expectations of different branches, and postings profoundly shape the veteran experience and comparative studies are needed to capture this nuance. Research must also delve into the experiences of veterans who serve as caregivers, parents, and members of non-traditional family structures— particularly women and LGBTQ+ individuals who often navigate dual roles with limited institutional support.

There is a significant gap in longitudinal studies on the psychological and systemic impact of military sexual trauma and the effects of identity suppression under policies such as Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. These experiences have long-term implications on mental health, care-seeking behavior, and trust in institutions, yet remain underexamined. Additionally, there is a need for critical inquiry into how standardized military testing, such as ASVAB and GT scores, may contribute to racial and socioeconomic sorting into specific occupational specialties. These sorting mechanisms must be evaluated through an equity lens, recognizing how structural bias can limit career pathways and reinforce occupational segregation within the military.

Further attention must also be given to the impact of provider bias and the need for culturally competent, trauma-informed care in both military and veteran-serving healthcare systems. Studies that examine the effectiveness of existing provider training programs, accountability measures, and the experiences of marginalized veterans seeking care are essential. Civilian and military collaboration in research and roundtable settings should also be expanded, allowing practitioners, policymakers, and scholars outside of the military community to better understand and respond to the layered needs of veterans.

The field would benefit from increased use of mixed-methods and data-driven approaches that center intersectionality as a core analytic framework. While qualitative narratives offer critical insights, quantitative research is also needed to validate disparities and inform policy interventions. Institutions such as the Department of Veterans Affairs and veteran-serving nonprofits must be evaluated through equity-focused policy audits to assess how well programs serve all veterans, not just those who fit dominant or historically privileged categories.

Ultimately, intersectionality must move beyond theoretical acknowledgment and into active implementation. The voices shared in this roundtable reflect both lived reality and systemic urgency. Continued dialogue, research, and accountability are essential to honoring the full humanity of those who have served and ensuring that care, policy, and representation reflect that truth in practice.

Conclusion

This roundtable illuminated the urgent need to reexamine veteran identity through an intersectional framework that accounts for the lived realities of those who have historically been overlooked, silenced, or marginalized. By centering voices across gender, race, sexuality, and socio-political experience, we move beyond one-dimensional understandings of military service and into a deeper, more truthful reflection of what it means to be a veteran in today’s America.

Throughout the discussion, panelists shared powerful narratives that exposed systemic inequities within military structures, healthcare systems, and veteran support services. These testimonies reinforced that policy and programming must reflect the complexity of identity, not flatten it.

Intersectionality is not a theoretical construct to be invoked when convenient, it is a vital analytical tool that, when ignored, contributes to the re-traumatization of veterans seeking care, validation, and belonging. Ultimately, this conversation affirms that true equity requires action beyond acknowledgment. Implementation, accountability, and representation are not optional; they are foundational. As we continue to advocate for inclusive policy reforms, culturally responsive care, and research that reflects the full spectrum of veteran experiences, we are not only honoring those who served but actively reshaping the systems that claim to support them. In doing so, we challenge institutions to stretch, not veterans to shrink, to meet the depth and dignity of their lived experience.

For those interested in exploring peer reviewed work discussed in this roundtable further, the moderator recommends the following as essential readings:

Bryan, C. J., & Bryan, A. O. (2019). Cognitive behavioral therapy for preventing suicide in military personnel: A review of the evidence. Frontiers in Psychiatry, 10, 537. https://doi.org/10.3389/fpsyt.2019.00537

Crenshaw, K. (1991). Mapping the margins: Intersectionality, identity politics, and violence against women of color. Stanford Law Review, 43(6), 1241–1299. https://doi.org/10.2307/1229039

Dozier, T., & Phillips, G. (2020). Veteran critical theory: Exploring the intersection of veteran identity and higher education. Unpublished manuscript.

Grimes, L. N. (2021). Civilian counselors’ perspectives on military competence and treatment for active-duty service members diagnosed with post-traumatic stress (Doctoral dissertation, Capella University). ProQuest Dissertations Publishing. https://www.proquest.com/openview/4097c0ff52060bfa12c6ee1c4b6cda91/1?pq-origsite=gscholar&cbl=18750&diss=y

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Competing Interests

The authors have no competing interests to declare.