I didn't read the bulk of this thread, but I'm going to reply, and then back track. First of all I was doing a google on Michael's death and I came upon this page, and I'm glad because I have some unresolved shit that's sort of been popping up in me lately about my experiences there.
First of all I just want to say that I did meet some cool people there, and although I keep in touch with virtually no one, there are people I once knew that I truly loved and could perhaps rekindle a relationship with. One of the people that I really miss is Lonnie, the dance director, who passed away a few years ago. He was a genuine and beatiful person, and he expressed his individuality at DeSisto by questioning the shit that went on and not completely feeding into it like a lot of the mindless and impressionable staff who had so many issues that they may as well have been "new kids." Michael never berated Lonnie, because I truly believe Lonnie had his number, so to speak, and Michael realized that he was one of the few that could not be molded by him, and to use a cliche "brainwashed."
Yes, brainwashed, the dreaded but applicable term ALWAYS called into play at some point in any discussion about DeSisto. My experience was bizarre in the sense that it was like a rollercoaster ride. When I first got there I was completely miserable and couldn't for the life of me comprehend why I was living in conditions comparable to the foster home I work in now, at $46,000 a year. Although the official reasoning concerning the institutional living conditions would probably be something along the lines of "stripping down the surroundings so the children can focus on their issues primarily," I'm here to say I think it was about PROFIT. And this leads me into one aspect of what I think was really going on up there in Stockbridge. Michael was fleecing (spelling?) desperate parents. Straight up and down, that's what it was.
But I will get back to that in a subsequent post and stay with the original topic of my experience. Anyway, a few months later I was recognized to have enough potential to move up a level... don't ask me what the next level was called because all that's coming to mind now is new kids, stewards, and farm. But anyway we lived in the mansion.
The previous summer I had some very happy experiences in Dinner Theatre, which were basically where my fond rememberances began and ended. I found myself to be doing things I never thought I could do. This was good. Although I had never before (or since) had anything to do with singing and dancing, and even then considered show tunes to be pretty gay, I was having the time of my life living and interacting with my housemates and feeling as though I was doing something right for a change. (a feeling so amazing to a previously depressed social outcast like myself.) But all this seemed to change. Initially Michael seemed to covet and favor me, but soon after this summer of dinner theatre he became dismissive and critical of me, and not in a supportive way either. That is when I realized that although there were positive aspects to this place, there was something weird going on. Michael would play favorites with kids toward whom he seemed to treat disposably, and I started realizing that he had me in a position where I was "fiending" for his attention. He was doing a push/pull, acceptance/rejection game that seemed to stimulate him greatly. A lot of other people seemed stuck in this too. It was bizarre. I mean in retrospect I recall things happening that would have thrown up a fucking neon red flag to anyone not conditioned to this insular little world he had established. Yes, I'm talking about fucking 18 and 19 year old males in his bed cuddling, etc. It was bizarre. Anyone that went to Desisto knows that this stuff went down. I remember one time, either in Lake George or in Florida, that we were standing outside a convenience store and he stuck his hand through the bottom of my shirt, brushing past my nipples and then out the top of my neck line. I was like "what are you doing?" and he seemed so offended and treated me badly the rest of the time. I'm so glad that even though I fell into a lot of Desisto bullshit, that I still had a strong enough mind to know this was wrong. Had I been a previously molested kid, like a lot of others, maybe I wouldn't have. That's just an example. It happened again too, and i brought it up in a meeting, and he fucking cried and said he would never trust me.
The problem was, that, as I said, the behavior just described and other bizarre shit became so normalized (probably even for him) that it wasn't questioned. His outbursts were unpredictable, his judgments and insults unrelenting, and everything was presented in the guise of aid, when really a lot of times the detractions were not countered with support. On the farm? Oh man, people were put in rooms for days and denied food. Yes they fucking were, and if you went there don't tell me it didn't go on. Males and females were completely expected to supress their sexual urges (during adolescence no less) and if you acted them out there had to be a deeper motivation than being a horny teenager. Almost everyone was made to feel that they had a problem that could only be remedied with the 12 steps, etc. etc. etc.
In short, that place was fucked. In my opinion now, completely designed to stroke Michael's ego, fulfill his bizarre Jacko-esque fantasies, and make him money. I swear to god I came out of that place as a person I never was or wanted to be before or since, and I regret that I was too weak at that age to know who I really was.
Oh, and do I even have to mention the sham marriage to Margie... come on, if he wasn't gay then Jim Trainor is a professional boxer. No, I'm not a homophobe, but is it crazy to suggest that an institution supposedly premised on honesty would have a headmaster who could openly acknowledge his own sexuality???
I'm going to organize my thoughts because this is one of the first times I've spoken for more than five minutes about Desisto since I was there.
Let's call this venting for now, and a little preliminary organization of my thoughts, there is so much coming back to me as we speak I would crash this site if I was to start discussing all of it.
Thanks for letting my spew people.
