We Owls like to build our own houses. We live in barns, in sheds and even in trees. Good for us, though, is that we hardly ever move. We feather our nest, meet other wise birds and enjoy coming home to a known place year after year.

Maybe because I’m so well taken care of, I wonder about a development many may not know about.

Now, I hear a lot of noise lately about the arrival of U.S. Space Command. Everyone has an opinion on where it should go. One thing which is not up for grabs is what will happen, wherever it lands. Lots and lots and lots of kids will accompany their parents if they are assigned here. These are the military kids whose lives are upended every two or three years when a parent gets orders to move. That’s orders: They have no choice in the matter. When the military tells mom and dad to go, they must go.

Moving, or in military lingo, permanent change of station, is tough. All the friends you’ve made, all the local culture you’ve grown accustomed to, the plans you’ve hatched, the places you’ve come to love, must change. Often, even pets you love must be left behind. Tears accompany such ventures. Fears too. Fear of the future, of finding new friends, or the worst dread, fitting in worries are rampant. Did you know that? Most of the young people who arrive new to your school from a military family fit this bill, over and over again. How do they see themselves?

Luckily, I was sitting over a table outside at Valley Pizza last week. I overheard a long-time “Army brat” discuss her life. What she said to her friend brought a certain empathy to my heart.

“ In thinking about the gifts I’ve received as an Army brat, I know one of them is adaptability. I know how to ‘bloom where I’m planted.’ First as a child of a soldier, then as a military wife, mother and teacher, I’ve spent over 20 years living outside the United States. I was in three elementary schools on different continents. I attended two high schools. I’ve learned what it means to be a foreigner, and an outsider, yet I’ve also realized the universality of mankind. I remember and integrate my encounters into teaching. I’ve come to understand everyone has special talents and gifts; they don’t learn the same way. So I use different styles and techniques in the classroom. I always ask my students, many of whom never moved at all, to always ask, ‘What’s around the corner? What can I do to make this place better? Am I my neighbor’s keeper? How have individuals changed the world?’

“These are the sort of questions I ask my students. I challenge them to reflect on their own contribution to the world. I tell them stories of ordinary people around the world whose actions have been a positive benefit to us all.

“For example, Lech Walesa was an electrician in a Polish shipyard who faced down the might of communism. Thirteen-year-old Anne Frank wrote in her diary as she hid from her persecutors, and her words shape readers today. A sickly French nun, Theresa of Lisieux, wrote her ‘Little Way,’ which has inspired millions. I’ve always adapted. Rarely have I always had a textbook as a resource in any class, so I draw on many other sources. I’ve made presentations to groups on a wide range of topics. I chaired a symposium on German literature at UAH, spoke to European audiences in Rome, taught knitting in the Netherlands and demonstrated American cooking techniques to Italian gourmands.

“Whatever I am teaching I try to convey my enthusiasm to my listeners and invite them to participate, agree, dissent or question. I’ve made friends with people from both sides of the former Iron Curtain. We’ve had wonderful conversations about democracy, communism and propaganda. At times our family had been the first Americans to visit an area in over 40 years. It is good to share and learn with others.”

When you meet an Army brat, or other military child, remember that they might not share your worldview. They haven’t had years to develop your lifelong friends, know all the favorite places to hang out and all the local traditions. They aren’t wrong, just different. They’re just like you, trying to get by in this world. Remember that they are probably concerned that you might not like them or let them fit in. Some are so young they might fight back, or pretend not to care about you or your ways. If you meet a child like this, or for that matter a young man or woman, go out of your way to make them feel at home. Do like you’d like in a similar situation, if you were the one on the road. Let’s not fool ourselves, we in Limestone County will be meeting dozens and dozens of such young ones. Where do you think all these new housing developments residents will come from? They will be military kids, kids of the FBI and other government and corporate families. All of them seek to belong. When I’ve listened to people who’ve reached out to the new kid, I’ve only found them to be happy at the end. They see the world in a new way.