Behind “Be All We Can Be: Reclaiming the Army Identity”

When I first saw my name on the Chief of Staff’s reading list, I was truly speechless: professional writing works. It can reach audiences capable of driving incredible change. But before I ever took pen to paper (or even considered doing so), I thought, listened, and discussed at length.

The Motivation to Write 

My initial attraction to the recruiting issue developed at the intersection of my public policy interests and my experiences as an Armor officer. I served as a Scout Platoon Leader and OSUT Troop Executive Officer prior to selection as the Armor Branch Proponent Officer. In the latter assignment, I meet with cadets on college campuses, West Point, and at ROTC training events, share my experiences, and identify talent. These three roles have provided me with unique insights into the challenges and impacts of modern recruiting on both the enlisted and prospective officer populations.

My executive officer experience catalyzed my thoughts about recruiting from an academic perspective. In my daily observations and interactions, I sought to understand how large-scale policy shaped the challenges and frustrations that my Troop regularly experienced. Trainee attrition appeared to be driven by poor emotional stress responses and lack of motivation rather than unachievable standards. I questioned the origins of their enlistment: Were they inspired to serve their country, or did benefits-based intrigue place them in an environment that they were just frankly not suited for?

In the spirit of seeking an answer that might inspire change, I thought about the Soldiers that I was privileged to work with as a Platoon Leader. I engaged with Drill Sergeants at the CQ desk or the range, and participated in several lengthy policy-oriented phone calls with my dad. After discussions with peers, mentors, subordinate leaders, and confidants, I drew two conclusions: (1) there were many frustrated voices; and (2) motivated people want to be surrounded by other motivated people. High achievers seek to be part of winning teams that push them to their maximum potential—these are the very types of people and teams required to fight and win wars. Yet, it felt as if the Army’s efforts to obtain quantity was driving away the quality performers.

With this idea in mind, Modern War Institute’s recruiting essay contest motivated me to write. I had already made the jump from complaining mode to solution generation mode… the decision to channel those ideas into a cohesive written argument was the next step. I sought coauthorship from a trusted peer and we entered a submission. Though we did not win the contest, we still sought to share our ideas and effectuate change—this is the crux of discourse.

Second Guessing, Unanticipated Success, and the Reinforced Importance of Discourse

War Room accepted our draft and several months of editing commenced. In the week prior to our scheduled publication, my co-author’s unit public affairs team informed him that he should not publish without significant content alteration. He gracefully encouraged me to publish our current product as a solo author, stating “I’d rather people read our ideas without my name on them than not read them at all.”

The night before the article’s release, I questioned if I was making a mistake. Individual authorship seemingly reframed the risks. The work would be publicly attributed to me alone: I would take the credit, but also the heat. Were the ideas too controversial? Was the language or tone too harsh? Was I jeopardizing my career and reputation, or exposing myself to an inevitable reprisal? 

After serious introspection, I decided to publish “Be All We Can Be: Reclaiming the Army Identity”. I wrote with genuine passion in both heart and mind to spark respectful dissent and initiate productive discussion about an issue with impacts much larger than my OSUT Troop. I am eternally grateful for the opportunities the Army has afforded me.I want to see the institution prosper, and I want to work alongside the best America has to offer. I believed in my ideas enough to take a professional risk.

Ultimately, these principles gave me the confidence to step outside my comfort zone. Though my values and passion drove me to publish, I truly did not expect much readership aside from family, friends, and a few colleagues. More important than accolades, I am astonished by and grateful for the widespread circulation and solution-oriented conversations that have arisen. Each “I read your article” comment makes me hopeful that our work is fulfilling its desired impact.

Speak up

As Major Brennan Deveraux highlights in his recent Substack article, it is daunting to speak up as a junior officer with a career on the horizon—particularly when it comes to ideas that challenge the status quo. But these are the very ideas that are worth hearing, and company-level leaders offer an unmatched perspective on the policy impacts and needs of Soldiers across lower echelons. The ability to make an impact is not relegated to rank or demographic, but an opportunity afforded to those whoare willing to contribute ideas—writing is a great way to do so.

My takeaway: professional discourse is more powerful than I thought, but requires the courage to speak up. Abandon fears of being labeled as too outspoken, too opinionated, or too controversial. Do not shy away from your convictions. For the Army to achieve its full potential, passionate leaders must share their experiences and ideas. If you are seeking to find your voice in the professional writing space: “be fearless in the pursuit of what sets your soul on fire.”

Captain Leah Foodman is an active-duty Armor officer. She earned a B.S. in American Politics from the United States Military Academy and is interested in law, government, policy, and writing.