By Alex Neonakis
•
November 1, 2025
I’m a high school senior, which means I spend a lot of time thinking about the future—college, work, and what kind of life I want to build. But whenever I try to map out my goals, my thoughts keep returning to the same group of people: America’s veterans. I don’t wear a uniform, and I wasn’t raised on a base, but I’ve grown up hearing stories about service and sacrifice. The more I learn, the more I realize how much we owe to the people who chose to serve—and how much they still have to give after they come home. I first felt that debt in my U.S. history classes. It wasn’t just the big names. It was the young paratroopers who jumped into the dark on D-Day, the Marines who fought from island to island in the Pacific, the air crews who flew missions knowing they might not return. It was the soldiers in Korea at the Chosin Reservoir holding a frozen line, and the medics in Vietnam pulling wounded teammates to safety under fire. In more recent years, it’s been the men and women who deployed again and again in Iraq and Afghanistan, missing birthdays and holidays while carrying heavy loads most of us can’t imagine. In class, these events show up as timelines and maps. But every year, our teachers invite veterans to speak. That’s when it really hits. A calm voice describing a chaotic moment. A short pause before a hard memory. A laugh about something small that kept a unit going on a tough day. Those moments feel more real than any textbook. You hear what leadership sounds like without the buzzwords: take care of your people, be honest when you make a mistake, and finish the job even when it’s not fun or glamorous. What impresses me most is how veterans think about teams. In school we do group projects and most of us try to carry our own weight. In the military, it’s not optional. You don’t just do your part; you make sure the person next to you can do theirs. That mindset—owning the mission and helping others win—doesn’t expire when someone leaves the service. It translates perfectly to business, especially franchising. I’ve been learning more about franchising because I’m interested in entrepreneurship. What stands out is how similar it feels to the way the military runs: clear standards, repeatable systems, training that builds skill over time, and a chain of support when things go wrong. In a good franchise, the operating manual isn’t a suggestion; it’s a proven process. You still need grit and initiative, but you don’t have to invent everything from scratch. For veterans who have already mastered checklists, SOPs, and accountability, this is familiar ground. Another reason franchising makes sense for veterans is trust. When you wear a uniform, your decisions have real consequences. That weight teaches judgment. In franchising, judgment shows up in hiring, scheduling, customer service, and watching the numbers. A veteran owner will look at a bad week and say, “What can we fix now?” instead of pointing fingers. That steady attitude helps teams stay focused and customers come back. I’ve also seen how the franchise community tries to meet veterans halfway. Many brands offer discounted initial fees or extra training. Some programs help match veterans to industries that fit their skills—home services, logistics, fitness, automotive, pet care, and more. Financing can still be a hurdle, but banks often like the structure of good franchises and the track records that come with them. When those things line up, the path from the last day in uniform to opening day gets shorter and less stressful. A few veteran owners I’ve met say the hardest part of transition wasn’t finding work; it was finding purpose outside the military. Franchising can answer that. You serve customers, create jobs, and become part of the local fabric. You sponsor a youth team, support the VFW post, or run a coat drive in winter. That sense of responsibility to a community feels a lot like service, just in a different form. I’m not pretending it’s easy. Every small business has early mornings, late nights, and unexpected problems. Equipment fails on the weekend. A key employee quits. Marketing flops. Rent goes up. But veterans are used to planning, rehearsing, and adjusting when reality changes. They don’t panic. They recalibrate, take care of their people, and move forward. If you’re a veteran thinking about ownership, here’s what I’ve learned from listening to people who’ve done it: Know your why. Pick a business you can show up for on tough days. Pride matters when you’re leading a team and meeting customers face to face. Do real diligence. Read the FDD. Call multiple franchisees—new, average, and top performers—and ask what they would change if they could start over. Face the numbers. Build a simple model for your local market: startup costs, months of working capital, break-even, staffing, and territory demand. Reality beats optimism. Use the support. Good brands offer training, peer groups, field coaching, and marketing playbooks. Use them early and often. Share what you learn with others. Bring your team mindset. Build a culture where people are reliable, safe, and proud of the product. Praise in public, coach in private, and keep standards clear. For readers who want to support veterans beyond a “thank you,” consider hiring them, mentoring them, or steering them toward franchise paths that fit. If you work at a franchisor, build a veteran track with real milestones, not just a discount. If you’re in finance, create products that reward proven operators who follow systems and hit their numbers. The return won’t just be financial—you’ll strengthen your brand and your community. I can’t speak for my whole generation, but I know many of us are watching and learning. We see veterans who raised their hand when it counted and who still show up for their neighbors after the uniform comes off. We see owners who open the shop before sunrise, coach a staff of first-job teenagers, and still make time to help a fellow vet navigate the next step. That’s leadership. That’s the standard. To every veteran reading this: thank you for your service—and for the example you set. To the franchise community: keep building the bridges that turn military skill into local strength. And to my fellow students: let’s aim to carry ourselves with the same calm purpose we admire in the people who’ve already done the hard things. The future we’re all trying to build will be stronger if we follow their lead.