Armistice Day and the true cost of war: Reflections from an Autistic Veteran for Peace

Big Feelings, Big History

As an autistic person, emotional regulation is a daily challenge, made even more complicated by about this time of any year. November 11 in the U.S. is known as Veterans Day, a day many recognize as honoring those who have served in the military. But as an active member of Veterans for Peace, I call it by its original name: Armistice Day.

This day wasn’t always a celebration of military service or a pageantry of free waffles and hero worship. It began as a hopeful acknowledgment of peace, marking the end of World War I at the “11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month” in 1918. This day once celebrated not the warriors, but the end of war itself.

Imagine?

In 1954, the U.S. Congress shifted this day to honor veterans specifically, and rebranded it as Veterans Day. With the name change came a shift in focus. For some of us, reclaiming the spirit of Armistice Day means calling for an end to all wars and state-sanctioned violence near and far.

Inspired by peace-loving people everywhere, we pledge to resist complicity in violence and to continue advocating for a world without it. In the words of the late Howard Zinn, a fellow veteran and historian, “There is no flag large enough to cover the shame of killing innocent people.”

Unmasking the True Cost of War

We need ‘Peace at Home, Peace Abroad.’ The violence of war is not just something that occurs afar; its effects also permeate near. Since its inception, the U.S. has waged a near-continuous war against people: Indigenous peoples, enslaved Africans, today’s Black and brown communities through systemic racism, police violence, and economic exploitation.

The ties between militarized policing here and wars over there are clear. For example, racism is used as a tool to dehumanize, desensitize, and ultimately justify violence. Where social hierarchies enable violent acts, both internationally and domestically, systemic racism and militarization are connected (i.e. Bonilla-Silva, 2017; Alexander, 2012).

(For veterans, these realizations can be challenging because military training often relies on dehumanizing the people deemed to be The Enemy. Facing these truths means recognizing that peace requires addressing these interconnected systems of oppression. This work remains very necessary.)

The Economic Cost of War

Did you know that the United States leads the world in military expenditures, with the 2024 Pentagon budget at about $842 billion, or $2.3 billion every single day (Congressional Budget Office, 2024). This spending comes at the expense of urgent domestic needs, like universal healthcare, public education, and climate resilience. In other words, the spending on violence comes at the expense of peace.

Meanwhile, this militaristic priority fuels environmental degradation, deepens poverty, and exacerbates racial inequalities. When they talk about “cutting spending” notice they skip this part where there are 195 countries and yet the U.S. military spending comprises 40% of the global military waste of money.

Internationally, the consequences are stark as well. According to scholar Michael Parenti, “Poor countries are not under-developed; they are over-exploited.” This exploitation perpetuates cycles of poverty and unrest abroad, which in turn justifies continued intervention and militarization by wealthier nations.

By redirecting resources from war to address global issues—climate change, disease, and poverty—we can create the foundations for lasting peace. War is not some kind of unfortunate or inevitable outcome. It is part of a system that prioritizes power over people.

Living the True Cost of War as an Autistic Veteran

As an autistic veteran, experiences of violence—even in “well-meaning” gestures—can be especially intense. I am thinking of a recent Veterans Day when I was wearing a Veterans for Peace shirt. A man suddenly reached out to me while I was at a gas station, pressing his hand into my stomach as he aggressively insisted on a handshake, exclaiming, “Thank you for your service!”

I didn’t know how to opt out. It was hostile, forceful. This kind of “gratitude” only reminds me that my real service began after my military time ended, in the work for peace.

For many autistic people, managing such interactions is hard. Emotional regulation is already a challenge, compounded by the sensory intensity and unpredictability of social encounters (Hirvikoski & Blomqvist, 2015). Many of us cope by grounding ourselves with routines, minimizing sensory overload, and connecting with like-minded communities where mutual understanding and support provide a buffer against these stressors.

A Call for Armistice and Lasting Peace

This Veterans Day, as we gather to ring bells at the 11th hour in Minneapolis, we will call once again for a return to the original purpose of Armistice Day—a day to celebrate peace, not war. In a world increasingly defined by conflict, climate catastrophe, and looming nuclear threats, the message of Armistice Day feels pretty urgent.

The future depends on our collective ability to find paths to cooperation and shared survival.

If there is anything I hope my readers take away, it’s that we must keep trying. The U.S. presidential election just happened, and these systems of violence and exploitation that we face are massive, but so too is the collective power of those pushing for change.

Coping with the Big Feelings

One strategy for emotional regulation is known as cognitive reappraisal. It involves reframing a distressing thought in a way that reduces its emotional impact (Gross, 2002; Ochsner & Gross, 2005). For example, instead of interpreting Armistice Day’s transformation into a pro-war, hero-worshipping day of propaganda and, interpersonally, as a personal affront, I can reframe it as an opportunity to educate others about peace.

Ideally, I can do that.

This strategy can help reduce emotional intensity, offering a way to engage thoughtfully rather than reactively. I’m not great with cognitive reappraisal, but it’s what fits here and I always have goals. Doing it might not eliminate the big feelings, but it can make them more manageable.

Want to discuss this topic? There is a thread about it on the facebook page.

References

• Alexander, Michelle. 2012. The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness. New York: New Press. https://newjimcrow.com/.
• Bonilla-Silva, Eduardo. 2017. Racism Without Racists: Color-Blind Racism and the Persistence of Racial Inequality in America. Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield. https://rowman.com/ISBN/9781538100158.
• Congressional Budget Office. 2024. The Budget and Economic Outlook. Washington, DC. Retrieved from https://www.cbo.gov/publication/59703.
• Gross, James J. 2002. Emotion regulation: Affective, cognitive, and social consequences. Psychophysiology, 39(3), 281–291. doi: https://doi.org/10.1017/S0048577201393198.
• Ochsner, Kevin N., and James J. Gross. 2005. “The cognitive control of emotion.” Trends in cognitive sciences 9(5): 242-249. doi: https://doi.org/10.1016/j.tics.2005.03.010.
• Hirvikoski, Tatja, & Malin Blomqvist. 2015. High self-perceived stress and poor quality of life in young adults with high-functioning autism spectrum disorder. Autism: The International Journal of Research and Practice, 19(6), 752–762. doi: https://doi.org/10.1177/1362361314543530.