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Veterans Series 2017

Student Veterans Organization to perform one-night production in New York City

Courtesy of Syracuse University's Student Veterans Organization

"Separated" took the stage three times this year. Eight members of SU's Student Veterans Organization will perform in New York City on Monday for SU alumni.

A story of almost being shot down from the sky and a story of a near rape intertwine as Student Veterans Organization President Kierston Whaley and SVO member Ginger Peterman sit on a stage and recite their pieces. The “duet of perils,” as playwright Kyle Bass describes, brings audience members to tears.

“Separated,” a stage show performed by eight members of the Syracuse University SVO, tells the story of their lives: growing up, attending training camp, getting shot at, being sexually assaulted and then leaving the service — feeling alone.

What started off as a one-night production funded by a grant from the school has turned into what will be a four-time production, reaching hundreds of people. The production is going to New York City on Monday for a one-night show open to SU alumni.

“Separated” began because veterans often feel cut off from civilians after they leave active duty, Whaley said, adding that students don’t understand that veterans don’t want to be treated differently.

“You have military and you have civilian. Whether you’re 20 or whether you’re 49, it doesn’t matter. The message has to be, ‘I don’t know you, you don’t know me. So there should be no judgment, no opinion,’” said cast member Jake VanMarter, 49. “We just want to be treated like everyone else does. So being a student here, I don’t want to be looked at as different because I’m the military guy.”



The show’s eight veterans tell their stories, but instead of standing and performing a monologue, Department of Drama playwriting instructor Kyle Bass wrote a script to interweave their tales in and out of service.

“‘Separated’ was a multi-narrative play,” said veteran and cast member Nick Brincka. “There’s about eight veterans, and we’re all telling our story independently, but it also came together as one big story and how we’ve all served.”

Bass describes the show as having a “narrative vibrancy” that brings the audience into the moments of the veterans’ lives.

VanMarter, the only member of the production who still serves in the Army Reserve, said the show was cathartic and important, as it tells the civilian population how veterans think and feel.

“If you’re to witness the performance of ‘Separated,’ it’s all real. It’s all genuine. Nothing is generated,” VanMarter said. “It’s exactly what we feel and what we think. And it takes you right back to that moment, and it relieves you.”

The first production, in mid-January, was meant to be the only show. It was standing room only at Syracuse Stage, and the entire theater was packed. They had to close-circuit film the show and play it on TVs in the lobby, which was also packed, Whaley said.

The group of veterans was asked to perform again for the drama department students and then once more for the Board of Trustees. Whaley said the spouses of the board members were really the ones to push for the show in New York City.

“Performances like this do bridge the civilian-veteran divide. What it does is provide to civilians a window to whatever the veteran might be going through,” said Vadim Panasyuk, director of the Rapid Response Referral Program at the Iraq and Afghanistan Veterans of America. “These very open, candid things are designed to be able to explain to the civilian and put the civilian into the veterans’ shoes.”

While Whaley tells her story of a fateful helicopter ride, Peterman talks of how the high-ranking officer who assaulted her faced no repercussions. Brincka discusses being inspired by the grandfather he never met because he died while serving. His grandfather was diagnosed with cancer from testing airplane radar.

Their stories are welded to create an interwoven performance, in which they sometimes take the roles of other people. When Brincka tells the story of growing up in California, Whaley speaks as his mother and VanMarter speaks as his father.

Bass said he wrote the script because he thought it was important to educate the general population about these lives that veterans were living, feeling separated from the rest of the community.

“I think people have a concept or an idea about veterans and who they are,” Bass said. “(The veterans) were feeling a little invisible. So that was important, and I felt like it’d be great to help them be more present on this campus, even if it’s just a one night thing.”

With its fourth production approaching, cast members see a future for the show in a different context.

Whaley and VanMarter both expressed hopes to filter in different veterans to each tell their own story.

“Every veteran is different, and I think the general population is interested in that, but they don’t know how to ask,” Whaley said.

The transition from veteran to civilian life, and then from civilian life to academia, can be a very difficult one, Panasyuk said. VanMarter is a grandfather. Whaley is often mistaken for the professor of a class when she walks in. Brincka, though only 24, said even he had difficulty adjusting.

Brincka is currently a cadet in Reserve Officers’ Training Corps and intends to serve another 16 years in the Army post graduation.

“I was really hesitant (to join SVO). At first I was like, ‘I’m not gonna tell anybody (I’m a veteran) and I’ll just be lowkey about it,’” he said.

Now Brincka is on the rugby team and in a social fraternity. VanMarter intends to launch a website next year with resources for military-affiliated people and their families, including podcast interviews with experts. Whaley is completing a master’s degree in professional accounting.

Though they said they feel separated from civilian and academic life, all the cast members spoke of their desire to be treated the same. This show, they said, helps connect their stories to civilians.

“We have found that a lot of the traditional student body is uncomfortable speaking to us when they find out that we’re veterans,” Whaley said. “Everyone that I talked to said (‘Separated’) was the most powerful thing they’d ever heard, and I was just up there giving my story of being in and out of the military.”

VanMarter said even though most students he interacts with in classes are younger than his own children, he wants to not feel like an outsider. But he said that being in the United States Navy and deployed in the Middle East makes his experience different.

“This is great because it’s another step in bridging that gap,” he said. “Awareness, communication, getting to know each other.”

Whaley said that throughout the production, the audience will laugh, cry and relate to the veterans on stage.

Based on the success of the previous productions, Whaley is optimistic about a future for the show, with new cast members and different scripts, but still outlining the idea of feeling the title’s meaning.

“The word separated is an interesting one. It describes a lot of different dimensions of the issue,” Panasyuk said. “You’re not only separated from the military, but you also feel separated from society as a whole, in a way.”





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