Sunflowers, Service, and Supporting Each Other

As a retired Air Force lieutenant colonel, Jordan Lindeke knows military service firsthand. As a recipient of a Purple Heart, living with a non-apparent disability, she also knows how important it is to be understood in this area of her life.

Both experiences have shaped her path to Booz Allen and her work for the Department of Defense and the military health system. In recognition of National Veteran and Military Families Month, Jordan shares her story—including why she’s an advocate for more sunflowers in the world.

The daughter of an Army officer, Jordan grew up familiar with the armed services and joined the Air Force a few years after college. “I deployed twice. Those were some of the best times of my life,” she remembers.

Two days before her 28th birthday, one brutal event changed everything.

She was at a bazaar near her base in Afghanistan, shopping for ingredients for a celebratory dinner, when an explosion knocked her unconscious.

“The Taliban tried to make me have a bad day,” she recalls.

She soon found herself being medevacked from the base where she managed medical supplies and approved insurance referrals, on the way to a military hospital in Germany. Diagnoses of traumatic brain injury (TBI) and post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) followed, then a medical discharge years later.

After a few post-service years in the nonprofit world, Jordan was looking for a change. “Where could I contribute?” she remembers asking herself.

“While I was on active duty, I worked with Booz Allen a few times,” she recalls. On a military health project, “I sat on the aeromedical evacuation side, voicing what we needed.”

It was a subject she was particularly passionate about—improving documentation and information sharing across the armed forces—and one she knew well from her own experiences as a patient and an administrator in the military healthcare system.

Years later, she put her firsthand perspectives to work again, as flight commander for Operations and Patient Administration with TRICARE, the health plan for the nation’s service members and their families. She was involved in revamping the process for medical evaluation boards, with a team that again involved Booz Allen.  

“I always had great experiences with Booz Allen,” she recalls. So, she joined the firm, starting as an executive assistant supporting Booz Allen’s Navy operations business.

As Jordan settled into this role, the senior leader she supported, Matice Wright-Springer, saw her potential. “She really valued my experiences. Matice kept telling me I had more to give, and that drove me,” Jordan says.

When reflecting on their time working together, Matice added “I was eager to add Jordan to my team because I am constantly looking to add diverse perspectives. She brought a wealth of knowledge from her time in the Air Force, and her voice added tremendous value to the projects we were working on. I’m proud to watch her grow and become even more confident with sharing her perspectives.”

In the past year, Jordan has pivoted to a client-facing role, which was “a big, big jump,” she says. “But it has been great. I've been learning a lot and meeting people from across the firm and from all walks of life. Everyone comes to Booz Allen with a different background and story.”

Such a story frequently involves life in the armed services, Jordan notes—as a reservist, veteran, or spouse. Nearly 30% of Booz Allen’s workforce is military affiliated.

“It's nice for me to be around folks where I don’t always have to translate everything,” she says. “You have that common language and bond. And often people who have never served have been around the community so long that they’re fluent in ‘military talk.’”

She appreciates opportunities to build these relationships outside of her day-to-day job as well, particularly the firm’s many employee communities. “There’s just so much strength that comes from connecting people.”

She points out the linkages across these groups—such as how the Armed Services employee community and Disabilities and Neurodiversity employee community both address TBI and PTSD.

This overlap makes sense. “People are complicated. You're not just one thing or another, like just a woman or just a veteran,” she says. “We all have more than one story.”

While Jordan is determined not to let the explosion in Afghanistan define her, there’s one aspect of her story—her non-apparent disability—that she wishes people understood more completely. “People figure out I have a Purple Heart and immediately check my limbs,” she says. “It’s almost like people need to see the wound to validate it.”

“The stuff that happened to me is not visible—I didn’t lose a limb,” she explains. “But I had brain surgery. I can tell the difference between how I was before and after the injury.”

Jordan points out one development changing this picture for the better: the sunflower lanyards she’s seeing more and more, from places such as airports to Booz Allen’s offices. An initiative that started in the UK, the lanyards are a way someone can voluntarily share they have a hidden disability or condition, one that may not be immediately apparent, and that they may need extra support in shops, at work, on public transport, or in public spaces.

“It lets everyone know, ‘Hey, this person may have additional needs and they may need help—look out for them a little bit closer,’” Jordan says. “I hope it becomes a universal symbol. And it’s a great conversation starter.”

“I’m happy to answer questions about being blown up,” she says. “And I will talk about it kind of flippantly sometimes, because it’s just a fact of life for me now, and so are the after-effects.”

Jordan believes such conversations are important. “You might end up talking to someone with a similar experience,” she says. “And by being an advocate for yourself, you can help other people advocate for themselves.”