We were lucky to catch up with Katie Kilby recently and have shared our conversation below.
Alright, Katie thanks for taking the time to share your stories and insights with us today. Was there a defining moment in your professional career? A moment that changed the trajectory of your career?
One night more than 14 years ago, I found myself with a coworker on a street corner in the Lower East Side of Manhattan holding a soggy envelope containing dinner money and instructions to share a meal with someone who needed one… without spending more than the $6 provided.
By the time we’d mapped out the area, it was raining outside and we were unprepared. having been told to leave anything other than our Subway passes behind. While the un-housed and hungry had spread out from their normal haunts to find some cover, we sought our own refuge from the cold rain under some scaffolding in front of an empty retail space, and spotted a man confidently staking his dry territory. We approached and asked him if he’d like to grab a slice of pizza with us, but since he didn’t want to lose his “spot,” he commented that if we were passing back this way, he liked ketchup and mustard. And onions.
Michael and I set off to find a few hot dogs, and returned a few minutes later with three hotdogs, no spare change, and a huge smile from our new friend Maximus. By the time we had returned, another younger guy had joined Maximus under the construction scaffolding. Feeling badly for offering Max a [relatively] hot and [definitely] soggy meal, we offered Ryan a hot dog, and Michael and I shared (guiltily knowing there was a fridge full of cold cuts back in our kitchen.
Of course, Max and Ryan had expected us to drop the food and leave. Most of their daily interactions involved passersbys with diverted gazes and the accompanying judgment. Instead and – much to their surprise and possibly interrupting their routine – we sat down next to Max and Ryan, and listened.
People are so good at ignoring the inconveniences around them in the midst of the busy and noise that keeps them captive, and tend to rush past the hurt and inequity that they usually refuse to acknowledge. I was wet and cold but also humbled and honored that night. I knew I had all the time in the world to sit on the sidewalk and listen to Max and Ryan. I felt privileged to be trusted with their story.
And Max’s story in particular? Changed the trajectory of my life.
Not long later, I received my appointment package in the mail to serve in the United States Peace Corps.
On one hand, I was so excited for the opportunity to live out a longtime dream overseas. On the other, though, I couldn’t stop thinking about Maximus, in the rain, under scaffolding in Manhattan.
Just like my brother, father, grandfathers, and [now] husband, Max had served his country honorably. He’d worn a uniform, given his oath to protect and defend the Constitution of the United States, and left his family behind support combat operations overseas.
And that night, he told me that when he’d come home – years before – he wasn’t the person that had signed on the dotted line in the first place.
He said he didn’t feel at home with his family. He couldn’t speak about his worth anymore or what value he could provide to the people he cared the most about. He said that living on edge and without purpose meant he didn’t trust the things that were once the most familiar to him.
So Max left. He showed up in NYC where he thought he’d pick up some shift work until he found what he didn’t yet know he was looking for, and felt proud enough to go back home… to his family.
Instead though, I remember not understanding with my own 22 years of wisdom why he didn’t just get a job, rent an apartment, see a counselor, and pull himself up by his proverbial bootstraps.
Because oh, how little life I’d lived.
He did have work – for a while.
He also had a roof over his head – until he didn’t.
He had no idea how to access mental health support, couldn’t get a doctor to look at the sores on his legs that wouldn’t heal, and he hadn’t seen a dentist since he became a civilian. And he hadn’t seen his family “in the flesh” in almost as long.
So here he was, on a street corner in NYC, with his new community, living alongside people who had a shared experience – SURVIVAL.
He called his daughter every year on Christmas. Sometimes she answered other times he didn’t bother to leave a message because he had no way for her to call him back. Years ago she’d offered him a room in her own home in Florida, but she stopped bringing it up when he got tired of saying no.
Because he couldn’t bear to leave his “new” home and community, and the thought of starting over with more unknowns and people he didn’t know if he could trust, caused him fear and anxiety.
Per instructions, I didn’t have any more money on me that night, and that was long before I could have cheated the rules and used Google Pay on my phone to get Max and Ryan more food or a warm cup of coffee. I wanted to entice them to share more with me, but they were both cold and needed to bed in for the night or run the risk of losing Their Spots. So I left. Thankfully, my role that Spring and Summer kept my visiting the Lower East Side almost weekly, and Max never drifted further than the tight radius of where I’d met him that night… the place where he felt the safest and where he had a community that kept him going in the only ways he knew how.
I never saw Ryan again and Max said he didn’t know how to find him, but whenever I could, I packaged up food for my new friend from our family style meals at Halal, Polish, and Indian restaurants when we hosted student groups in the city.
After spending the Winter and Spring in NYC, I boarded a plane to Bulgaria and was sworn in as a United States Peace Corps Volunteer. I worked hard to be fully present in my one-in-a-lifetime experience overseas, but Maximus was never far from my mind.
Eventually, I closed my service in 2011, moved home to Virginia, promised my mom I would live with them for at least a few months to reacclimate, and moved to Baltimore instead barely a month later.
It was here in Charm City that I found both my purpose and my calling. I met my husband (a now-retired Combat Marine) and started volunteering with Wounded Warrior Project. And I LOVED it. In 2014 I was offered a full time position on their outreach team – still thinking about Maximus.
Why did most of the veterans in my life at the time (including many generations of family members) have a relatively seamless transition, when veterans like Max landed on the streets of a city far from his own? Where did their paths diverge, and what could I do to change things for future generations of veterans?
WWP gave me the opportunity to fall in love with being a connector, curator, and convenor. I never lost sight of the fact that if we executed our mission well, maybe someday we WOULDN’T see men and women on the streets in the US.
So here I am, almost a decade and a half later, recalling Max’s story and reflecting on my own. I’m not proud of the transiency of my career in the last few years, but every step of this journey has brought me closer to appreciating every learned lesson and experience.
I recently took a major leap of faith to go all in on a passion project I’ve been incubating for the last 5 years. I quit my job. I’m taking the meetings. I’m having the conversations. I’m asking the questions. And I’m confident that within the next calendar year, we’ll be opening the doors on Reveille Grounds – the region’s very first Veteran and Community Engagement Center.
A place where we plan to re-calibrate the transition experience for ALL who wore the uniform by infusing the power of coffee, connection, and camaraderie. We plan to give our veterans the opportunity to thrive while building a spirit of collective impact and belonging. Then, we plan to add value to Baltimore by asking our veterans to be the leaders this country trained them to be… and the leaders this country needs.
So Maximus not only taught me that EVERY veteran has value no matter they’re story, but he also set the stage for me to take the leap of faith, always remember my why, and build relationships that matter.
Katie, before we move on to more of these sorts of questions, can you take some time to bring our readers up to speed on you and what you do?
Katie Kilby is a connector, convener, and curator by both trade and passion. She has centered her personal and professional lives around building stronger veterans and stronger communities in stateside cities and abroad.
A military brat and Marine Corps Spouse, I am proud to have called Baltimore home since closing my Peace Corps Service in Bulgaria in 2011. For most of the last decade, I’ve worked for various veteran nonprofits, and have made it my mission to serve in the chasm between the individuals looking for support and the resources that exist to serve and engage them.
In 2017, I founded The Baltimore Military Muster as an effort to unite the veteran serving space in Central Maryland. As the spouse of a combat-wounded veteran trying to make sense of the “Sea of Goodwill” and a service provider serving families like my own, I wrestled every day with the idea that it was impossible to know what you didn’t know. It was even more impossible to get to the right resource or opportunity (ideally the first time), even if you did have an idea of what that was.
A meet up style event, The Muster meets every other month and brings together organization representatives with anyone who is looking to be connected or has a resource or experience to share. Operating under the belief that everyone is looking for something and everyone has something to offer, The Muster will be the bedrock program for Baltimore’s very first Veteran & Community Engagement Hub.
Reveille Grounds will be the permanent home to The Muster, as well as a community gathering space, coworking space for mission-minded folks like me, and a resource center for military and veteran affiliated individuals and their families. An Inclusive, progressive, and innovative space that promotes psychological safety, Reveille will infuse the power of coffee, connection, and collaboration to build stronger veterans and stronger communities in Baltimore. Military affiliated individuals will be able to access the support and resources they need, when they need it, through personalized and coordinated care.
In the mornings, we might host group workouts and restorative practice sessions. By day, you can expect to take part in an entrepreneurship class or Veterans Benefits Claims Clinic. In the evening, we’ll provide the opportunity to laugh at a comedy show or open mic night featuring veteran talent.
Vetted programs, resources, and opportunities – all under one roof. A place where I can continue to connect assets, convene people, and curate conversations. This mission already fills my cup, and I can’t wait to leverage my years of navigating this space and extending my knowledge to others.
Have you ever had to pivot?
Earlier this year, I was offered a professional opportunity that, at the time, felt like a step towards my personal and professional goals. An opportunity I didn’t look for, and one that seemingly landed in my lap, I accepted with cautious optimism and excitement to play a role in ensuring the legacy of a mission that dates back to the end of WW2. After all, if my boys choose to wear a uniform, they will be joining the ranks of many generations of family military service. This work isn’t in just my blood… its in theirs.
7+ months ago, the role began with more, “I can’t believe I *get* to be [at this table / in this room / a part of this]” moments than “what am I doing here” moments.
In August, though, that changed. During/after a week-long work trip, the optimism that I’d be able to excel in my role and maximize my impact without compromising myself almost split me in two.
For two months I doubled down on my efforts to bring my full self to my job. I stepped out of my comfort zone and directly asked for the support, information, and resources I needed to be successful. I shared my vision, leveraged my gifts, and didn’t hide my weaknesses. My relationships with external partners grew, but my ability to thrive internally and actually do my job finally hit a hard stop.
At the beginning of October I realized that not only was I running in place, but my family wasn’t getting a version of myself that I was proud of. My physical and mental health were no longer a priority. I was dropping the ball at home, desperately trying to fill the cracks in myself that I knew were there before anyone else noticed, and found myself behind on things with Reveille – the mission, people, and goals that kept me up at night in all the best ways. Additionally, my grandmother died after battling alzheimers for many years, a veteran I once supported in a previous role was diagnosed with ALS, and two friends lost advanced pregnancies.
Life is short. Too short to spend time compromising your values and having to convince yourself to get excited about going to work in the morning.
I never intended for my last role to be a blip on my radar, but it took me too long and a couple more drive-by 401k accounts than I care to admit, but the time has come to take my “non-lucrative side hustle” and passion project off the back burner.
So, I took the leap of faith and I’m ready to see what Reveille Grounds could actually be if I poured myself into it instead of giving whatever was left after my family and career got the best parts of me.
I feel 1000lbs lighter and so excited about this chapter… the one that I thought was further in the future but absolutely deserves everything I have to give it because we’ve done the work. We’ve laid the groundwork. We’ve asked the right questions. We’ve proven the concept. It’s time to bring this vision to reality!
If you could go back in time, do you think you would have chosen a different profession or specialty?
A thousand times yes, I would choose to be right here, in this moment, giving everything I have to Reveille Grounds. What felt like a pipe dream 10 years ago became a “someday dream” during early COVID, and today, its actually happening. And as painful as the last 10 years have been navigating my transient resume and having to hunt down too many abandoned 401k accounts, I wouldn’t trade any experience, struggle, or brick wall I’ve navigated since I laser focused on the community I was born into, married into, and choose every single day. The “hard” has solidified my passion for this work, and has uniquely qualified me to stand in the gap and serve as a bridge between the military-connected community and the entities that exist to serve and engage them. I’m passionate, battle-tested, and more determined than ever before to build a counter-cultural collaboration space that promotes mutual benefit, collective impact, and innovation. Because what would our veterans be truly capable of if we connected them to resources on every level of Maslow’s pyramid, reminded them of their own battle-tested ethos, and asked them to serve again as the leaders this country trained them to be?
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.reveillegrounds.com/
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ReveilleGrounds
- Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/katie-kilby-95564939
- Other: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V1LkRU81rL4
- https://www.wypr.org/show/on-the-record/2022-11-11/connections-and-a-wake-up-call-for-baltimore-veterans