August 27, 2007

If Pat Tillman Was a Hero, What About All These People?

Atlas shrugged three years ago when one of the greatest tragedies in modern American military history struck: Pat Tillman, football-player-turned-Army Ranger, died in Afghanistan from friendly fire. Pat Tillman is often called a hero.

The term "hero" has been cheapened and overused, although few can actually define it. American Heritage Dictionary defines "hero" as a person noted for feats of courage or nobility of purpose, especially one who has risked or sacrificed his or her life. This fits all our service men and women, although it seems that some people are more heroic than others.

Hundreds of U.S. soldiers passing in the line of duty – not that interesting apparently. Thousands coming home to find no employment possibilities and no medical treatment options – interesting to some, mostly NPR listeners.

But leaving a small town in the rust belt to join the armed forces to pay for community college and then taking a bullet for the government’s mistaken foreign policy does not make you a hero. Leaving sunny Arizona and a million-dollar contract does.

I'm not denying that what happened to Tillman is heartbreaking. But that's because it happened to another human being, not another human being who looked handsome in Sports Illustrated photographs. His sacrifice is no less, but no greater than that given by nameless kids from across the nation.

The Tillman Foundation, set up soon after Pat's death, provides scholarships for students from several San Jose area high schools as well as Arizona State University, Tillman's alma mater. Perhaps as an ASU student I should be proud to be affiliated with his legacy or my friends who were honored by the Foundation as Tillman Scholars.

Yet sitting here in the middle of the Hayden Library and reading a detailed account of Tillman's widow's first public speech in our school's World/Nation section – she shifted her weight from foot to foot, tucked her long hair behind her ear and with a dimpled smile began, in case you wished to know – I had a strong distaste in my mouth.

I'll leave the journalistic integrity issues aside for now and ask: Who the hell cares?

Are Mrs. Tillman's dimples really that newsworthy? What about the impatient weight shifting of the four-year-old girl who's watching the calendar every day to see when daddy comes home? Is she not cute, not rich and not white? Damn. Never mind.

Pat Tillman's decision to leave his life of opportunity for duty is exemplary. Nevertheless, this mind-blowing concept of a privileged golden boy is not necessarily an exception. Even our fun-loving school has produced other examples of men choosing patriotic duty. One example is senior Cole Hickman, who put his political science degree and Democratic leadership position on hold to serve his country, giving his allegiance to our principles, not our administration.

While Tillman's untimely and unnecessary death brought much-needed attention to the absurdity of the conflict, the endeavors took a wrong turn, courtesy of the dimple-loving media for the most part. Pat Tillman is an excellent example of a man who put patriotism before profit. Yet instead of singling him out, we ought to acknowledge that there are many who also gave up comfort, security and the tempting option of apathy to serve.