ejesquire

[ejesquire]

Soldiers

The picture above shows all the Soldiers that have been assigned to work for me. They’re from everywhere across the United States. They are immigrants, fourth generation Americans, white, black, Asian, Hispanic, from red states and blue states, from the west coast and east coast. 

 I wish people at home could meet them.  I wish they could see these 18 and 20-year-old kids sacrificing for their country on the other side of the world, obeying orders without doubt; how they treat others with respect while seeking to build a better life for themselves each day.

 They are the best of what our country has to offer. Not the celebrities, athletes, or the politicians.

In my short time serving my country, leaders drunk on power and blinded by position often have disillusioned me on what it means to serve my country. But the heart of these Soldiers show me something else- that of all the things a leader can fight for, if there is anything that is actually worth aspiring to, it’s to be worthy of their trust.  

[ejesquire]

Private Joe

For eight months I work at a desk tucked away in a forgotten corner of a military installation. I spend hours on hours churning out legal reviews on all kinds of topics that seem trivial, from fundraisers, to generals riding on helicopters, to investigations on Soldier suicides.  The Army has regulations for its regulations. The time flies by, as I take my axe to a tree that seems to grow faster then I can chop.

It’s 2016.  

A Major and a Lieutenant Colonel are waiting for me in my office.  I enter my office and stand at parade rest- chest out shoulders back and hands hooked together at the small of my back. They tell me they need me to be the Officer in Charge of the installation tax center.  I hear a spiel about leadership experience, and return a canned response, “Roger, Sir. Will do. Anything the team needs.” But inside I’m telling myself: this is a job that  nobody else wants and somehow I’m the guy left holding the stick. Typical Army.  So for the fourth time in two years, I have a new assignment.

Twenty-two soldiers work for me now- most of them under the age of 24. Private Joe, is a tall broad shouldered, black kid out of Georgia. He sits slumped back in his chair and he’s always on his phone. Our tax instructors tell me that he’s distracted and jokes too much during classroom training. My first instinct is to yell at him. Instead, for some reason, I spend the first week watching him and not saying anything. I notice as he scores well on his tests and certifications. He’s a lot like me was when I was his age- smart and a good sense of humor, but clowns around and gets himself into trouble; always taking two steps forward and two steps back.

 After a week, Joe finishes the training faster than the other soldiers. I tell him to hang back after everyone else is dismissed for the day.  I sit him down and ask him how he’s doing. He tells me he’s struggling with morning physical training and has failed a few tests because of his run time, but otherwise he’s fine.  I give it to him straight- officer to enlisted.

 “Joe, you learn fast,” I say.  “You are smart, and everyone sees it. You are a natural born leader and the other Soldiers follow you. But you are distracted and you clown around too much. You have a lot of potential.“

"Listen, you can be anything you want to be. “

I give him an order. “Don’t waste it.“

“Yes, Sir,” he nods in affirmation.

“You’re dismissed.“

He stands at attention. For a moment, straight and proud.  

“Sir, I won’t.” He does an about face and leaves the room.

As I was speaking, I could feel myself getting emotional. I realize that when I was his age, acting the same way and struggling to find my way, I would have given anything for anyone to tell me the same words I told Joe.

 Over the next few days I see Joe’s attitude change. He starts using his energy and emotional intelligence to gather others around the work. He volunteers without hesitation. He begins to lead.  Morale improves across the board.

As I watch him change a big smile begins to spread across my face, bigger then any I’ve had in the last eight months.  I can’t lie. It’s been extremely hard these last two years living abroad, and as I said before I oftentimes wish I had chosen a different, more comfortable path. But seeing a Soldier like Joe, standing taller and more confident with each day, it helps a part of me believe that I’m exactly where I need to be. 

“And let us not grow weary of doing good , for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.” Galatians 6;9

[ejesquire]

Warrior Country

I can count at least a dozen other places I’d rather have lived for the last year then behind this barb wire fence. Today, the 21st of May, marks one year from the day I arrived in Korea.

On the morning of 15 May, I packed my car and left Warrior Country behind. It was a hard year. I find solace knowing that, without hardship, we can never become all that we are meant to be. Like past experiences, I know that it’s our lows that help us cherish the highs. Hardship builds us towards a greater end, and carries us, inevitably, to what will be our highest cause. Once again, it is time to say farewell.

With hindsight, I probably would never have chosen to live here in this austere place, ten miles from the DMZ. In my farewell speech I told our staff that because of them I believe that I grew more here than I could have in any other place. It is for that reason that I will count my time with the Second Infantry Division as one of my most treasured memories.

Camp Casey, Korea: Challenge Complete.

On to the next.

For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal. 1 Corinthians 4:17-18

[ejesquire]

Beyond Justice

Just outside the temporary lodging facility in Camp Casey Korea, a soldier dressed in her formal Army Service Uniform lifts her straightened palm to her brow and salutes me.

It’s finally gotten warmer here. As a kid from California, I’ve discovered that eventually, winter freezes over.

I return the soldier's salute.

Although she is the enlisted soldier and I am the officer, the truth is I should be the one saluting her. She’s the one that was raped seven months ago. She’s the one that had to travel back to Korea to testify. She’s the one that must now endure and find a way forward.

On the day that a victim reports an incident of sexual assault, I tell every victim pretty much the same thing. You can’t control the outcome of this case or this investigation or this trial. You can only control what you do from here on out. Our ultimate goal is to see you stronger than the day before this happened.

Now after many months the trial is complete and it’s time to say goodbye to this soldier.

“Sir,” she says. “I don’t think I could have made it through all this without you.”

I finish my representation with words that I have found myself saying often over this last year. “This is my job,” I tell her. “That’s what we’re here for.”

“Thank you,” she says. She turns and walks away.

When I reflect on this particular case I think of that little girl from 3 years ago. And I think of my friend who spent so many years suffering. Whether the verdict is guilty or not guilty- I find myself asking- what’s the value of one victim’s life? How do they retrieve what was lost? I believe now more than ever that a new life is something that only Christ can offer these victims. This “new life” is beyond the power of any judge or attorney. I can see now that it’s exponentially more important than anything that might happen in a courtroom. As I drive around the military installation I notice that all over post the cherry blossoms have begun to bloom.

Spring has arrived.

“The gospel unleashes in the world a commitment not to live for justice but to live for more than justice.” - John Piper

[ejesquire]

Changdeokgung Palace

A little after 2pm we arrive at the Changdeokgung Palace for the World Wide Instameet Seoul. A crowd of at least sixty eager instagramers gather for a day of photos and new friendships.  “Without friends no one would choose to live, though he had all other goods.” - Aristotle 

One guy points to my friend, Noah, and asks, "Is that @noahskim?"

"Yes," I reply.

"He's famous!" He says. He takes out his phone and shows me Noah's Instagram page.

Before I came to Korea, I had never met Noah. I only knew of him because he’s the brother of a friend. By happenstance the Army assigned Noah (a physician and captain) to Camp Casey. By another happenstance the Army made a last minute change to my orders and switched my assignment from Japan to Korea. Noah and his wife Hannah got here not long after I did. Almost a year later I marvel at what good fortune I have that our lives crossed here.

Noah and Hannah are photographers, foodies, adventurers, knee slapping, Christ-loving, faithful friends. There’s no price tag for friends like that.

I don’t know how I could have made it through this first year without them. I can say with fair certainty that it’s because of God’s love and grace to me that we met here in Korea, ten miles from the DMZ. At sometime someone may have written out those military orders that brought us here, but I can’t help but believe those orders were written long before that.

"And my God will meet all your needs according to the riches of his glory in Christ Jesus." Philippians 4:19 

[ejesquire]

Golden State of Mind

The airport shuttle shrieks to a stop at the departure terminal. I pull my bags from the luggage rack and hop off. Before I walk through the sliding doors I steal one last glance at the Southern California sky and take in one more breath. Something in me tells me this is the last time I would be able to call this place “home”.

After eleven packed days in California I realize that after you leave it’s almost impossible to make up for all the lost time with the people you love. There are only so many minutes in a day. And it’s just not enough. 

This trip confirmed something that I already knew. That it’s finally time for me to stop looking back and wondering “what if?” What if I lived in California instead of Korea? What if instead of living in a barracks room 10 miles from the DMZ- I was a city prosecutor and living in a cush apartment? What if I was there with my family and friends to laugh, cry, and celebrate? Thinking that the grass is greener has only kept me from being my best in the present. I know the truth. My life’s mission has much less to do with this place or the people here. 

As Thomas Wolfe said, “You can’t go home again.”

There is this turmoil I have with God whenever I walk through this airport. Why me, God? Why do I always have to go? I tell myself that this is the life that I was born to live- upward and onward til’ the end. But I’m still sad and the loneliness sticks. When I finally reach my gate I look for a place to grab a bite to eat. I catch eyes with the guy who was my pastor for the last eight years. 

 “John!” I shout out.

 “Soy Sauce!” (At a retreat my church nicknamed me after a street basketball player named “Hot Sauce”) 

 Pastor John and I happen to be on the same flight to Chicago. In the short time before and after the flight we talk about the church in Long Beach, sports, Chicago weather, and his work planting churches across America. We get to Chicago, embrace, and part ways. Pastor John didn’t have to remind me of all the sermons he had preached over the last eight years- the sermons about sacrifice and living life on a mission for Jesus and his Kingdom. But just seeing him reminds me of an important truth I always seem to forget. That even though it hurts to let go, God has and will always be the one with me-loving me more than I could ever imagine.

[ejesquire]

Lessons Learned

Office Space in Maude Hall, Camp Casey, Korea

Before I applied to law school I called the father of a childhood friend for advice. I asked the Honorable Richard Fields if I could really help people as an attorney. He told me, “Eric, there’s probably no greater profession for accomplishing that goal.”

This month I will hit 460 clients served; plus 16 additional clients who are the victims of rape/sexual assault. That’s a lot of legal issues. I’ve tried to step back from it all and write out three lessons I am learning on my first tour in Korea.

1. Public Service is a Grind

As a public service lawyer in the military, work is much less glamorous then I expected. I’ve found that if you want to make a difference you have to learn to revel in the grind . Most of all you can’t engage in this work expecting anyone’s applause. When you choose public service as your profession, it’s your job to make a difference. Period. A grown man’s grind is contentment that does not need anyone’s applause.

2. Leadership is Leadership

As a JAG attorney you start as a captain simply on the merit of being an educated professional. Under normal circumstances it’s a rank I would have to earn after many years in uniform . After initialing adjusting to this world of ranks, patches, and acronyms, I’ve learned that military leadership is much like leadership anywhere. The essential elements are the same. It’s caring for people. It’s maintaining vision and setting that example. If you can accomplish that, you are accomplishing the mission.

3. Let it Go

Like most little girls, my niece loves that Frozen movie. Maybe because there is some profundity in those words. After deciding I wanted to be JAG attorney, it took me almost ten years to build a competitive application. But when it finally came time for me to apply I didn’t want it any more. I was done being away from home. I was too tired and over the years I had developed new dreams. In the end I decided to join not because this is what I want for my own life but because I know that the JAG Corps is the best way to make my life count.

I often dream about what my life would be if I chose a different path.I am learning how to let go of my own dreams to make my life count. The way forward has been faith. If I have faith in a God that cares for me personally, I trust Him to keep safe all the things I want most for my own life. I trust he holds my personal dreams and desires independent of my best efforts to lay hold of them. In scripture, when you choose a path centered on loving God and loving others, the creator of the universe guarantees your dreams and more. I’m learning to hold on to that promise and let everything else go.

“But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.” Matthew 6:33 

[ejesquire]

Day 365

Cold night in Camp Casey, Korea

When motivation dwindles sometimes we only need to remind ourselves of why we first began. 

This month marks my first year of service. I joined the JAG Corps because of my grandfather- Vidal Evangelista Sr. He retired as a colonel in the Philippine Air force. He was a gruff guy who had flown bombers in WWII.

I was 15 when he called me to his bedside. After a stint in the hospital he knew he didn’t have much time left to live. For a good 45 minutes he regaled me with the tale of how he became a colonel. Long removed from his days of valor, he was still very proud of his military service.  At the end he asked me to carry on his legacy. For the next few months that he lived, every time he saw me he would tell me in his broken English, “Ej, don’t forget what I told you.”

 My last memory with him was walking to the parking lot after a church service. We went through our same routine.

 “Ej, do you remember what I told you?” he asked.

“Yes, Papa,” I replied.

“Don’t forget,” he chided.

“I won’t forget Papa.”

 As we continued walking he paused for a moment and said something I never heard him say before.

“EJ, I love you.” 

 He died not long after that. At the time I was just a punk 16-year-old kid. I didn’t know what to make of everything he had told me. But two years later I saw this guy walking around my college campus in his full dress uniform. I knew right then that was what I wanted.

Now a decade later I have somehow become an attorney and officer in the United States Army. My present assignment assisting soldiers often feels like a thankless endeavor.  On some days it’s a tough gig. On my desk a picture of grandfather at his own desk reminds me of why I first began.

Love.

"Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things." - Philippians 4:8

[ejesquire]

Cebu

This cold feels like a knuckle pressing above the bridge of my nose. Fall becomes winter and I’m the coldest I’ve ever been. This frigid air pierces through my nostrils and lungs. As my morale slows to a snail like pace, at just the right time, I hop on a plane and escape to the island of Cebu; Philippines.

Sitting in this chair, the air is crisp. The soft rumbling of the ocean gives me peace. As I reflect on my first year as a soldier and a lawyer three words come to mind.

Honor. Duty. Country.

 Last year when I heard those words I used to see a soldier planting an American flag on the battlefield with the sun shining through it’s 50 white stars.

But lately it's taken on a different meaning for me. 

Those words mean scraping ice off my windshield when I can barely feel my fingertips. It means spending Christmas far away from the people I love most and trying not to think of them so often. As an attorney it means giving legal counsel to soldiers on some of the worst days of their lives.

I am a soldier. I am one of many pressing my weight against this mountain so large I cannot see if we are moving forward or backward. We persist only because it is our duty to press on.

Honor. Duty. Country.

Those words have taken on a different meaning to me in my first year of practice. I may no longer see the flag in the battlefield shrouded with glory. But still there remains a kind of beauty in this toil. As days become months and months turns to years I only need to dig deeper to see it.

“And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.” Galatians 6:9

[ejesquire]

 Sheep Farm

Located on the east side of the peninsula, Daegwallyeong sheep farm is more a crowded tourist attraction than the pictures above make it appear to be. While it's a pleasent stop, it should by no means be a mandatory trip for vacationers. Still, we enjoyed watching one sheep spend 5 minutes rubbing his butt on the fence.

[ejesquire]

Soraksan Mt

We race across the peninsula to climb the second highest peak in Korea. As the sun creeps over the mountain peaks, its rays reveals one of the most majestic landscapes I've ever seen in my life.15 hours ascending this peak posed a painful and grueling challenge, but these colors and views were well worth it.

[ejesquire]

More Than a Victim

My work station on Veterans Day weekend; Marley Cafe, Itaewon

As Special Victims Counsel assigned to the Second Infantry Division in Korea, I inform, advise, and zealously advocate for clients who have been sexually assaulted or raped.

Six months ago rape and sexual assault was a topic I had only read about as a student. In law school we spent hours in the library reading casebooks and posing arguments to each other. At least for me, “rape” was just another topic I used to exercise my mental abilities.

The topic took on a different meaning for me after my second year of law school when someone I love told me that she was raped as a child.  After that the topic became more a matter of heart than mind. 

Two years later someone thought it was a good idea to give me a uniform and a title. Now I sit three feet away from a woman as she tells the story about how she was raped just a few hours before. As her voice cracks, she pauses and takes a breath to gather her strength before she goes on telling her story. My client is not just a name in a casebook but a struggling human being. Gone are the names without faces. Those casebooks could have never taught me about how much shame is left in the wake of this crime. This stigma is pervasive and present in places I never suspected. What I find most difficult to reconcile: that there is no amount of education, advocacy, or justice, which I can leverage to remove this shame.

 That is simply a task far above my grade. As an attorney I engage in a job that yields finite results.

 In my professional capacity I inform, advise, and advocate.  But as a follower of Jesus I’m called to love others as myself. I have a larger role altogether.  As a “Christian attorney” I pray and ask God to remove my client’s shame. I pray for hope for them and myself. Because I want to believe that one day they can walk away completely free.

 But I lack the faith. There are days it feels like we live in a corner of the world that God perhaps refuses to see. I pray not for a lesser degree of empathy, but a kind of empathy that is vigilant and hopeful in the face of seemingly hopeless circumstance.

I’m certainly not there yet.

Someday I will be.

"He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away. And he who was seated on the throne said, “Behold, I am making all things new.” Revelation 21:4-5a

[ejesquire]

USA

In 24 hours I have traveled from the frontier of freedom to the metropolis of the free world. At 6:50 am I catch the sunrise over the Washington monument. Sitting on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, I am inspired to continue fighting.

This is one place that almost always inspires me to strive for more.

Last May for Asian Pacific American Heritage month I was given the privilege of speaking to my JAG School faculty on the topic: “What it means for me to serve”. As a brand new First Lieutenant ready to graduate the basic course, I conceded to the room full of imposing officer attorneys that I was an idealist. I shared with them one of my foremost life principles- my belief that we are all ordinary, imperfect people. And that what makes us truly great are the extraordinary things that we strive for each day.

For the next week I am back at the school to attend the Army’s first Child Victims Course where we will learn to represent children who have been victimized by sexual abuse- yet another opportunity to take a giant step towards the future.

"By grace you have been saved through faith. It is a gift from God so that no one can boast." Ephesians 2:9 

[ejesquire]

Incheon International 

9:22 am in Korea. I receive notice from the Pentagon that a spot had opened up for me to attend the Child Victims Course in Charlottesville, VA.

At exactly 5:15 am the next morning, I set out from Camp Casey on the 24 hour journey stateside. Inside the Incheon International terminal, I stop to shoot the Charlie Brown Cafe- one of three in Korea [pictured above]. We board and as I take my seat I look out the window of the 747. I'm reminded of the goals I set when I first began. There is a quiet assurance knowing that, after these 6,953 mi, I'll be one step closer to reaching them.

"It is not about the destination, but the journey." 

- Unknown

“No eye has seen, no ear has heard,

and no mind has imagined

what God has prepared

for those who love him.” 1 Corinthians 2:9

[ejesquire]

Motherland

After a four hour flight from Seoul, I touch down in Ninoy Aquino International Airport; Manila, Philippines, 12:15 am. 

In a hotel lobby, I see my grandmother for the first time in six years .

Her eyes are weaker than I last remembered, but her embrace is just as warm. Much to her surprise I tell her that I am now an attorney, living in Korea, and a captain in the US Army. There is a gleam in her eyes that tells me I made the right decision coming so far. Almost a year ago, when my assignments officer asked me where I wanted to be stationed I said, "Korea". When he asked "Why?" I told him about my grandmother in the Philippines. That was ten months ago.

In Tagaytay we drive past a large, yellow banner that says: 

"The Filipino is worth dying for, the Filipino is worth fighting for" -Ninoy Aquino

The words strike me and I ask my uncle to stop the car so I can get out and take a picture. Traveling around Tagaytay City the overflowing gypnies (Filipino buses) and countless children loitering the streets give me yet another glimpse into a world less fortunate. I try but can't count the dozens of street huts selling candy and fruit. They remind me that no one chooses the reality in which they are born into. We can only live with the grace afforded to us. I imagine my father and mother growing up in a place like this, and I realize, perhaps for the very first time, how far I have come.

[ejesquire]

It lurks invisible in the vitalizing spark, intangible, yet as evident as the lightning- the Warrior's Soul. The fixed determination to acquire the Warrior's Soul, and having acquired it to either conquer, or perish with honor, it is the secret to victory.

George S. Patton Jr. "The Secret to Victory" 1926

[ejesquire]

Hongdae

Eleven am cafe run at Five Extracts coffee house in Hongdae, Seoul. Voted Seoul’s Best coffee house in 2010.

Seoul boasts perhaps the world’s most vibrant cafe scene. Rivaling Paris in sheer numbers and with its own eclectic style, Seoul’s cafe scene offers an experience you will certainly only find in Korea. When exploring the different cafes in Seoul you can find yourself in any kind of imaginable theme- from pet cafes, camera lens cafes, a Hello Kitty cafe, and even a theme based on Charlie and the Peanuts Gang. In Five Extracts the gritty, earthtoned cafe feels like home. I pause to take in the walls adorned with antiques from my childhood. I see a boombox from the 80s and an old fashioned Dietrich coffee maker by the cashier. The hip hop music playing softly takes me  back- without a doubt Five Extracts is a throwback to a classic age.