Dear Veteran Service Organization Auxiliary

I Don’t Want to Pour Drinks or Quilt

Let me start by saying this: I respect tradition.
I love the ladies who kept the coffee hot, folded the flags, sold the raffle tickets, and held the post together while generations of veterans found their footing.
You built the backbone of the community. You kept the lights on and the morale up.

But times change — and so must the mission.

Because with all due respect, I don’t want to pour drinks.
I don’t want to quilt.
I want to raise hell in the halls of Congress.

From Bake Sales to Bill Tracking

We’re not living in the same world our grandmothers did.
Today’s military spouses, caregivers, and survivors are educated, policy-savvy, and more than capable of sitting across the table from lawmakers and holding their own.

We know how to read legislation, interpret budget lines, and translate acronyms into action.
We know that a broken law can do more damage than a broken transmission, and we’re tired of patching holes with goodwill while Congress argues about cost.

If you want to honor veterans, start by fighting for the policies that actually help them — health care, mental health support, survivor parity, toxic exposure reform, and family assistance that doesn’t require a miracle or a major.

We’re Not Here for the Sandwiches

Every time I walk into a veteran post or auxiliary meeting, someone inevitably says, “You’d make a great chair for hospitality!”
Bless your hearts — but my hospitality is aimed at policymakers, and it comes with briefing packets, not cookies.

I want the next generation of auxiliary members to be just as comfortable drafting a position statement as they are serving at a potluck.
Because if we don’t evolve, we’ll become a living museum — a place where good intentions collect dust while veterans and their families keep falling through bureaucratic cracks.

Service Has Many Forms

This isn’t about disrespecting tradition. It’s about expanding it.

You can still host the fish fry and the bingo night — but save a table for the policy team, too.
Let’s train members to meet with representatives, write testimony, and advocate at the state and federal levels.
Let’s make civic engagement the new volunteer craft.

The same energy that once filled care packages can fill hearing rooms. The same hands that sewed quilts can sign petitions. The same voices that led prayers can lead policy change.

We don’t have to give up what made the auxiliaries special — we just have to make them relevant again.

The Free-Range Reality

The next generation of advocates isn’t looking for a club to join — we’re looking for a cause to fight for.

We don’t need permission to speak, but we do need platforms that let us be heard.
The veteran community doesn’t need more gatekeepers; it needs more game-changers.

So yes, dear auxiliary, I’ll happily pour a drink — after we pass a bill.