In the grand scheme of things, 40 years is not much more than a blip on the historic radar. However, in terms of an individual life span, 40 years is quite a long time. The other day we were reflecting upon some of our personal experiences over the years and observed what has changed and what has seemed to remain the same.

Four decades ago we were a strikingly different pair. One of us was a university student, an ardent feminist, an antiwar protestor and civil rights activist. The other was a university student who left academics to become a marine in what was then a manifestation of idealistic patriotism with a desire to contribute to society.

While one was advocating on behalf of women, blacks and everyone being discriminated against, as well as marching and organizing against the Viet Nam war (and no, we did not jeer the non-volunteer returning soldiers), the other was carrying 80 pound packs on forced 20-mile marches at 4 a.m. in preparation for defense of country and nation, to death if necessary.

Convictions not to be taken lightly, both of us were fulfilling what we believed to be our destinies, even if our youth prevented us from fully grasping the larger pictures.

While one of us did eventually graduate with an advanced degree from higher education and entered the professional world (although the activist spirit is still as strong as ever), the other prepared for Officer's Candidate School (OCS) training as a result of excellent military achievement and recommendation by superior officers.

All seemed fine with the world at that point. But, it doesn't end there. The excellent marine soon learned that suspicion of behavior unbecoming a potential officer was grounds for OCS rejection, as well as dismissal from the U.S. Marine Corps. And what was that "unbecoming behavior?"

If you guessed being a lesbian or being suspected of being a lesbian, then you win! Unbelievable as it may seem, excellence one minute can morph into unfit for duty in a nanosecond, shattering all aspirations and taking one's self esteem down to the lowest depths of despair.

Now, way back then, the activist professional one of us would have cheered at this turn of events, thinking that another life had been spared from certain doom and would not have taken into consideration the real significance of the military's decision and policy. After all, many friends had used the "I'm queer" excuse to avoid military conscription, and the larger implications of discrimination against an entire group of individuals was not openly discussed at the time.

As readers might anticipate life experiences have changed us. The vigorously anti-military spirit has mellowed somewhat after years of observing and studying military law, training and process. While neither of us is one to rise before dawn, go on marches with no apparent destination or carry heavy physical loads, we have come to an understanding about military presence and place in society. And we have become more sensitive to those who do serve and can support those who do.

Indeed we have several career soldiers and officers in our family and have learned to respect who they are and why they do what they do, even if we can't accept the action. The former Marine spirit has never completely come to terms with such painful rejection but has found different and more peaceful ways to honor patriotism and make contributions toward improving our culture. In fact the Marine Corps should actually take pride in the proud, brave, forged-by-fire social activist that was generated by their rejection.

All right, we've changed, learned and grown over the years. Ah, but what about the military institution? Not so we say. Their policies and actions toward the LGBT community are still consistent with those of nearly a half-century ago.

The brilliant "don't ask, don't tell" policy that some said would help has clearly done little to effect change. In fact, it's beyond us why some thought that establishing a policy to reinforce living a closeted life, which military personnel were already doing, would improve things anyway. That's sort of like trying to reach a destination by running in place.

We know that Bill Clinton wanted to enact an open policy and was deterred by military officers and governmental officials, so he settled on the next best thing, but that just wasn't good enough because it didn't change the reality of life for LGBT military personnel and their families.

However, maybe there is some hope on the horizon. Nearly 30 retired officers are now advocating that LGBT individuals should be allowed to openly serve, and public opinion is in favor by over 50 percent. The majority of active military personnel also support an open policy and believe that the time has come, citing the fact that many other countries, including the British, have implemented open policies with little fanfare and ongoing success.

The discrimination must end, and those who want to serve their country in a military capacity should be allowed to serve with the confidence that they are respected and protected (the cynical one of us won't point out the irony here!) by an institution that is supposed to be safeguarding our very way of life that purports to be all inclusive.

There should at least be a policy in place that demands mutual respect and one that honors those who still get tears in their eyes all these years later when they recall the disappointment and pain of shattered dreams.

The born activist one of us can respect that!

Helen Harrell and Carol Fischer can be reached at hharrell@indiana.edu and cafische@indiana.edu.