Chief Warrant Officer (CWO) Nicole Belanger was very kind to send me a copy of her memoir, Pride Amid Prejudice: A Soldier’s Memoir. I am not sure CWO Belanger remembers, but we met for the first time in 2018 at a conference in Toronto, when 21 year-old Charlotte was just starting her research. She was a very involved member of the defence community, and we ended up crossing paths several times before she became the CWO for the Intelligence Command This is interesting how this is coming full circle, five years after the fact.
Read this “review” as a reaction. I will write my impressions as I go – I need to write as I go to process my feelings and thoughts. From the very moment I picked up the book and sat down to read, I thought that the timing was perfect. It was entirely serendipitous (I am on vacation and finished an important piece of a large project), but I believe that this memoir will have a new whole dimension to the StatsCan survey. We’re going from numbers that can feel impersonal to a lived experience. I am sure this book will also confront us with the fact that the problems go beyond sexual misconduct.
From reading the first page, I know that this book is going to be heartbreaking. The sentence “It was exhausting and terribly demoralizing knowing that my voice carried no weight unless it was supported by one of my male counterpart” sets the tone in no uncertain terms. It also feels extremely familiar.
It is going to be a tough read. But my feelings cannot even compare to what CWO Belanger went through. Time to buckle up.
In the fashion of the CWO Belanger I remembered, she does not mince her words and gets to the point. Realizing early that she was gay and that she wanted to be a military officer, at a time when the LGBTQ Purge was still raging.
“I tried to deny my authentic self because society believed it to be a sin. My own family believed it to be a sin.”
The way that Belanger exposes us to her family trauma and her experience in the closet is powerful. And in a way that I did not think one could do when writing a memoir, she breaks the fourth wall to confront potential skeptics and turn the wrong belief that being gay is a choice back to them. And the analogy of being left-handed is powerful.
She knows how to speak to those who do not believe her experience is real.
It is simply because she was confronted with it her whole life. From an abusive family background to an hostile military environment making it clear she was under scrutiny from the day she entered as a recruit, CWO Belanger had to hide who she truly was. When it was not her sexual orientation being surveilled, she was repeatedly taught and reminded of her gender.
She is not afraid to use some dark humour to offer some levity, without making light of the situations in which she found herself. It can take you aback, but I see this type of humour in people with deep trauma. It is an important tool. And she uses it in such a clever way.
What I find most striking in this book is Belanger’s honesty, vulnerability, and accountability. It is rare to see a memoir in which the author admits their mistakes and their own participation in a toxic culture so openly. At the same time, the reader can feel that the shame and guilt leads CWO Belanger to be very hard on herself.
I hope writing this memoir was a way for her to start forgiving herself. I find her story to be emblematic of what happens when the structural and cultural meets the personal. When one is ostracized from the beginning (she is a gay service member who joined the military police during the LGBTQ Purge, and to make matters worse, she is a woman), being shown that they are not welcome as soon as they enter the institution, it is tough to be outspoken and advocating for herself. Had she been as outspoken as she seems to hope to have been, I am not too sure she could have served for 35 years and be the agent of change that she was.
To apply her own words to a different context, this too is the “personal cost of ethics.”
Belanger’s story confirms to me the idea that ethics are not black and white. While she wishes she had the courage to call out inappropriate behaviours (and that she appears to see herself as weak), as a reader, I cannot be see her as extremely resilient and courageous. Even though she is grateful for her military service and found happiness during her 35 years in uniform, I think it takes a lot of courage to move forward and upward facing those circumstances.
“The consequences of holding on to the burden of whether to call out the inappropriate behaviour or comment did not seem so taxing at the beginning of my career, but my rucksack got heavier and heavier with each micro-insult, invalidation, and assault that I packed away in there.”
To continue on this analogy, the rucksack may have gotten heavier, but it takes a lot of strength to carry it and retire as the Intelligence Command’s Chief Warrant Officer.
Belanger’s story shows that there is not one definition of courage – courage takes many forms. And it is not just her resilience that demonstrates her courage, it is also her willingness to learn and to accept accountability. As she shares her path to become the leader she wanted to be, she is open about making mistakes. But what distinguishes her from many is her self-awareness, her curiosity, her openness to learn from unlikely teachers (like the Canadian Embassy staff in Jakarta, when she was posted there between 2003-07).
The amount of vulnerability in this book has touched me to my core. Many of her stories were very familiar – not only because I heard and read familiar stories from other service women and traditionally marginalized groups in the CAF, but because I have had similar experiences as a young civilian in defence.
Another quote that particularly resonated with me was:
“It’s touch when the institution you love ignores you, but it is even tougher when you feel that you have no choice but to pretend that you don’t mind.”
I will sit with this one for a long time.
Before I conclude, I would like to address future readers that serve in the CAF:
CWO Belanger’s memoir is not just a story of resilience and strength. It is also the story of institutional failures. It is easy to say and will sound trite and simplistic, but she should not have had to display such a strength to achieve her most senior position. Even as a Command CWO, she felt unheard and ignored – almost as if the prestige that came with the position could not overcome the fact that she was a woman. And the multiplication of stories she outlines in the book shows that the problem is not contained within a handful of leaders with poor moral fibre. It is the result of an institution that refused to truly change when it was asked to (in 1989 and 1992 particularly). Despite some new policies and increased representation, the system is imbued with biases that reinforce prejudices and encourage ostracism. Focusing on individuals will not be the solution – overhauling the system will.
All in all, Belanger’s book is a story that demonstrates the layers of issues the CAF has to address if it wants to be the equitable, diverse, and inclusive place it says it aspires to be. At a more personal level, I hope Belanger sees that she is leading by example. I leave my reading inspired and thankful for her courage – in holding on as long as she did, in sharing her story, and showing herself to the reader, warts and all.