When I was assigned to the battalion arms room, I was a Specialist with a different kind of military experience – strategic PSYOPS, where we focused on designing hearts and minds campaigns and nation-building exercises. It was the Clinton years, and my work was all about understanding how to connect systems and people in positive ways. So when the battalion was facing a crisis with their arms room – failing inspections, non-functional equipment, and risking losing access to needed weaponry entirely – someone figured my background in understanding how systems and people interact might bring a fresh approach.
Walking in that first day, nothing jumped out as obviously wrong. No dramatic disasters, no glaring emergencies – just the usual military routine. But my systems analysis training had taught me to look for patterns and connections that others might miss.
It started with small questions: Why wasn’t this part available? Why did orders vanish into administrative black holes? Why did the same problems keep recurring? Each question revealed another layer of dysfunction, not because the system was broken, but because it was operating in ways that weren’t immediately visible.
After trying and failing to work through procedures and official channels, something interesting started happening. I began to notice that our “supply problem” wasn’t really about supplies at all. It was about information – or more specifically, about connections that weren’t being made. Every unit had their own arms room, their own supply challenges, their own ways of making things work. But when the system broke down or connections were broken nobody was talking to each other. Everyone was trying to solve the same problems in isolation.
What started as simply trying to get parts delivered and work orders flowing turned into something bigger – a lesson in how living systems naturally want to connect and thrive together. When an injury later pushed me out of my planned military path, this way of seeing patterns and flows shaped everything that followed. From running nightclubs in Nevada to tackling food system challenges, I kept finding the same truth: systems aren’t broken, they’re just waiting for their natural connections to be restored.
Think of it like a watershed – when you remove the barriers, water naturally finds its way to where it’s needed. Years later, I saw this same pattern when I heard Reno’s mayor ask publicly, “Why can’t we get a grocery store downtown?”
The mayor’s question seemed simple enough. But just like that arms room, the real story wasn’t about what was missing – it was about connections that weren’t being seen. City leaders were looking upstream, trying to attract big chain stores, while ignoring the natural flows of food already moving through their community. The result? Year after year the same problems continue to impact community health, and nothing changes.
Just like water finds countless paths through a landscape, food and resources were already moving through our community’s neighborhoods. Corner stores, food banks, community kitchens, local markets – these aren’t failed attempts at, or poor replacements for, supermarkets. They’re natural channels that had developed to meet community needs. The solution wasn’t to dam up these flows by forcing a brand name box store into an economic space that can’t support it, but to understand and strengthen these existing patterns.
This way of seeing – looking for natural connections instead of trying to force new systems – changes everything. Instead of asking “Why can’t we get a grocery store?” we could ask “How is food already flowing through this community, and how can we support those flows?” Then we can get to the more important questions of where is the resistance to the flows, and what paths exist to reduce or flow around these barriers.
Sometimes the resistance is simple – like an officer’s bruised ego over having to clean his own weapon, or an old number on a call sheet that hasn’t been updated in years. Other times, you start bumping into something deeper. When I began working on new ways to distribute food, I learned the hard way that what looked like a broken system to me was actually working exactly as intended – for some folks, anyway. Let’s just say there’s good money in controlling how food moves through a community, even when that means tons of it ends up in dumpsters.
Look, I’ve seen some things that would make your blood boil. But getting angry doesn’t fix anything – trust me on that one. What works is understanding how these games are played. Once you see the patterns, you can start finding ways to work around them. You can’t always change how the whole system operates, but you can usually find good people within it who want to make things better.
The trick isn’t to go to war with existing systems. I’ve fought enough wars – this is about building something better alongside them. Something that works so well people naturally start using it instead. Like those informal networks between arms rooms in different units – we didn’t break any rules, we just found a better way to get things done. And that’s the kind of victory that actually sticks.
Here’s where things get interesting. Remember those arms room networks we built? That wasn’t some master plan – it was just removing barriers and letting natural connections form. When you stop seeing systems as broken and start seeing opportunities for connection, whole new possibilities open up.
The real power isn’t in any particular solution. It’s in learning to see differently. Once you understand how living systems naturally want to connect and flow, you start spotting opportunities everywhere. Could be food rescue, could be farming, could be education – the specific project matters less than the way you approach it.
The key is stopping long enough to see what’s already trying to happen. Most of the time, the connections are right there waiting to be made. We just need to quit assuming things are broken and start looking for where they want to naturally flow together.
When I walked into that arms room years ago, I couldn’t see the networks waiting to be built. Just like most people today can’t see the natural connections waiting to be made in their own communities. But once you learn to look for these patterns – these opportunities for things to work better together – you start seeing them everywhere.
That’s how a simple or even seemingly frivolous project, like designing chicken tractors, can evolve into something bigger. Not because anyone forced it, but because once you start seeing systems differently, each connection reveals new possibilities. But that’s a story for another day.
For now, just remember: Systems aren’t broken – they’re waiting to be connected. And the best solutions usually aren’t about fighting what exists or building something completely new. They’re about seeing and supporting the connections that want to happen naturally.
And oh yeah – that arms room? By the time I was done, we had 100% operability, perfect inspections, and I earned an Army Achievement Medal and a promotion to Sergeant. Not because I “fixed” anything, but because I helped the system work the way it naturally wanted to.
