RAPS, the down and dirty.

[blownawaytheidahoway]

Being indicted had left me feeling misunderstood and estranged. I began to dream about home and had peered at an atlas to get a better idea of where in the US I was. I marveled and stewed at my father?s act of betrayal. The stewing turned to planning the probable running away, splitting, as it was in the vernacular of our school. I ran drills, waking up once in the middle of the night and dressing and going to where the RMA road met Route 1. Once, I came back after sitting in the woods for an hour and crying. My stomach was growling and my heart pounding for fear of my absence being discovered. I was so trapped. I had to go back, but I knew that I had to plan for the eventuality that I would run away. I was thinking this and other things at the wood corral that week. Sawing away there, I wondered some about what the older students had been doing in the raps. I thought about some of the staff saying horrendous things to students in the raps. And I thought about some of the stranger goings on that I had already witnessed. I was uncomfortable with the amount of touching I witnessed. But guys who were newer like me weren?t allowed to touch the girls. It was just laughable when I could look at or talk to them. We were encouraged to be touchy with people of the same sex though?semi- enforced to touch other people had me thinking some weird things were in store for us there.
Much of this touching was done under the tradition and pretext of Smooshing. That is what it was called. Smoosh circles abounded and sometimes the staff who was overseeing the house that evening would be perturbed at you for not joining his colossal smoosh circle.

[blownawaytheidahoway]

I guess being on the hot seat in a rap did actually seem to have advantages since I was taken off of the two man saw to make room for the members of my peer group whom were just arriving. They wore the same confused and betrayed expression I had worn. I felt sorry for everyone but most of all myself. These kids were generally within a thousand miles of their homes. Now I was on  ?Sledge and Wedge?. I arrived at the wood corral after my bitter coffee and my morning purge, to find that I was moving up. I was given a three foot sledgehammer and a set of wedges. These shims were made from solid iron and when pounded into a fissure or crack in the rounds I was given, they would split it open a little, it was here the second wedge was placed and hammered in to widen it further. Repeat until log is split. I had to wear these gay goggles, but I enjoyed the task more than any other down at the wood corral because I was left on my own to do as much as possible and I didn?t have to interact with the inane conversation makers of my group. There was nothing to talk about. We couldn?t talk about music, sex, or drugs, so frankly, I had nothing in common yet, I knew of.
   Soon after my second week we had Paul Bunyan day. There was whistling contest. It was a rainy day and we spent all of it outside running obstacle courses, and watched the older students race to cut full rounds in half with axes. There were log rolling contests, log balancing at the pond, log flipping, and log art, log walking, log loving, and lots of carrying. There was sawing and sledging and tree felling contests, as well. Well, in all it was a good day and I relayed in my journal that ?it could have been better?. It didn?t go unnoticed by me when at the end of our ?fun? day every pellet container and woodbin on the entire campus is overloaded in preparation for fall and winter. The sacks of pellets ns were heavy, but my competitiveness outweighed my laziness.

[blownawaytheidahoway]

It had been almost a whole month! Idaho! Even though sometimes I still couldn?t believe it- the novelty was wearing off. I had not had any contact with my parents excepting a few short phone calls that had been routinely monitored by staff and older student/staff. I was disconnected from my parents every time! They always said if I run away the authorities could have me. They were not budging anymore. Complaints about the ?place? were not tolerated. It wasn?t against the agreements to rail against the skool, but it wasn?t tolerated publicly past the first 12 months or so. As a side note, even as an older student I used raps every encounter I could to complain about the place. For me it was worth the price of getting screamed at a lot for being negative. If everyone would just know how miserable I was about it; I thought it was worth something. When I uttered that I was being monitored and that I didn?t need to be there, whoever was monitoring my call would simply place their finger on the handset cradle and disconnect me. It was a time of resistance, and the place had weird rituals in dealing with the recalcitrant.
Getting indicted in raps always surprised me for the first year. When it began it was always a real shocker, because there was no logic that I could see behind the purpose. My journal entries clearly reinforce my feeling that the place was ?freaky? and cultish. The work details were nothing but excuses at having routine labor accomplished and excluding people who acted out of agreement. And in these raps I tried to defend myself calmly most of the time but occasionally I would let people get inside of me. Once you broke a seal, it took a lot of energy to retain. I knew my number was going to be up soon, and it scared me the way they could and would REALLY yell. I knew the only reason no one had done that to me yet was because I was still new. I started getting paranoid and worried before my truth propheet. It was scheduled for the following week. Our peer group was fully formed and just like at home, I was right in the middle, at least according to the period that I got there. There was only one younger kid in the whole place and he was in the group ahead of mine, Incidentally K C was on work details as often as I was. But he didn?t make it, who knows what ever happened to these kids who left the program. I was sure I was going to be one of them. We weren?t even really supposed to talk about people who left the program, usually in raps they would inform us that the worst had happened. They were in a lockup.

[Anonymous]

I remember sitting in raps and feeling like my head was cocked to one side when someone indicted me and trying to get it to be perpendicular to my shoulders. I probably missed a lot that was being said to me. I feel the same way now when a see a highway patrolman turning around after I pass him. I just heard about Cascade closing and I've spent the last 2 days reading everything I can find about it. I didn't know people were having sex. Class of 86 - where people having sex when we were there? I didn't get any sex. Maybe I just don't remember. It's brought up a lot of old memories. I think I need a rap.

[Anonymous]

On 2006-03-15 09:58:00, Anonymous wrote:

"I remember sitting in raps and feeling like my head was cocked to one side when someone indicted me and trying to get it to be perpendicular to my shoulders. I probably missed a lot that was being said to me. I feel the same way now when a see a highway patrolman turning around after I pass him. I just heard about Cascade closing and I've spent the last 2 days reading everything I can find about it. I didn't know people were having sex. Class of 86 - where people having sex when we were there? I didn't get any sex. Maybe I just don't remember. It's brought up a lot of old memories. I think I need a rap."

Wait, can you explain the rap and highway patrolman analogy? That went right over my head. Kinda like 80% of the shit staff yelled at me in raps went right over my head. Man, analogies are cool.

[Anonymous]

When someone started to yell at me in a rap my body just revolted against me. I had a physical reaction - a horrible detached feeling. Yesterday I was driving down the highway and passed a cop on the other side of the road. After I passed him I looked in the rearview mirror and he was making a U-turn - coming my way. "Shit, a ticket" or "Shit, he just switched seats and pushed the Kleenex to me" - same feeling. Except I guess a ticket is better than a rap.

[Anonymous]

Damn man, you're right on now that I think about it. Your heart drops into your stomach and you feel like your whole body is just cold and seizing up. And you're right, now that I think about it, the feeling was MUCH worse when someone would get up and move across from you in a rap than it is when you see the cop bang the U-turn.

[try another castle]

There were times where I literally had emptied my side of the room and people were fighting for chairs on the other side to yell at me about something. *laughs* Especially in peer group raps. Oh, how I dreaded those!

[blownawaytheidahoway]

On 2005-05-28 21:19:00, rmasurvivor wrote:

"don't get me started... I'm afraid I have too much to say!"

 ::bump::

[blownawaytheidahoway]

REDACTED


?What?s your name, XXXX Is that right?? I nodded and we locked eyes. This girl has sucked cock for cocaine?What?dya think about that??

?I heard that already?.

?Well, here in this school, you?ll learn that the work that  XXXXXXXhere is doing is important, but I suppose a little druggie like you wouldn?t know that. You like cocaine, son??

       I hadn?t realized that this was one of those rhetorical questions and I started to reject his claims and defend myself but before I had a chance, XXXX raised his voice a few notches and cut me off.

       ?Come on XXXXXXX, he?s right here in this room just tell him. I was with you in the "I Want To Live" and I know the work you did! You want to be a whore the rest of your life? He?s sitting right across from you!?

       The girl lifted herself a little and locked a shaky finger in my direction, when her head raised up so I could see her face. She screamed for like ten or fifteen seconds and tears squirted off of her cheeks. ?YOU MADE ME SUCK YOUR COCK! I HATE YOU, DUMB COKEHEAD MOTHER FUCKERRRRRRRRR!?    

I was terrified for the girl at first, and; as they reamed her for another twenty or thirty minutes, I began to think poorly of her too. I didn?t necessarily believe everything the four or six people were saying but if they insisted for an hour, it must have some merit.

REDACTED


Some part of me hated her for having to watch her be treated like that. There was ?something? she could do to make it stop. She had said as much, and even though I didn?t know what that ?something? was, I hated her for making me witness that series of ?indictments?.

[Anonymous]

On 2006-04-23 07:37:00, blownawaytheidahoway wrote:

"When I got used to the idea that I was going to be there for a while, I decided that I would just have to do it. For a month I just watched and listened. There was one thing that I noticed that still sort of haunts me. It?s like this: When I saw someone get blown away in a rap, I felt much because I felt bad for the person. I learned early on that I couldn?t come to their defense, and because I couldn?t help them, I began to resent them because I could not help them.  Every time I tried defending I was quickly censured, I couldn?t come to defend the boys in my peer group who were getting hassled or the peer group above mine that really started getting railed in some raps. I particularly remember one of the girls getting yelled at and it seemed quite cruel the things they were saying.

   ?Umm, listen?. I began. ?I know y?all will get mad at me for this but can we let her ?sit in her shit? and move on? I think she?s upset?. I never would have said anything?I mean I really had learned my lesson, and I NEVER would have tried something like this in Caroline?s raps, I didn?t know the facilitator at all. I had seen him with his sinister looking mustache and nice blue eyes, and he sounded even more bumbling than Richard Armstrong had my first day. XXXX?s voice had such a twang I was immediately alerted to a possible affectation.

?What?s your name, XXXX Is that right?? I nodded and we locked eyes. This girl has sucked cock for cocaine?What?dya think about that??

?I heard that already?.

?Well, here in this school, you?ll learn that the work that  XXXXXXXhere is doing is important, but I suppose a little druggie like you wouldn?t know that. You like cocaine, son??

        I hadn?t realized that this was one of those rhetorical questions and I started to reject his claims and defend myself but before I had a chance, XXXX raised his voice a few notches and cut me off.

        ?Come on XXXXXXX, he?s right here in this room just tell him. I was with you in the "I Want To Live" and I know the work you did! You want to be a whore the rest of your life? He?s sitting right across from you!?

        The girl lifted herself a little and locked a shaky finger in my direction, when her head raised up so I could see her face. She screamed for like ten or fifteen seconds and tears squirted off of her cheeks. ?YOU MADE ME SUCK YOUR COCK! I HATE YOU, DUMB COKEHEAD MOTHER FUCKERRRRRRRRR!?    

I was terrified for the girl at first, and; as they reamed her for another twenty or thirty minutes, I began to think poorly of her too. I didn?t necessarily believe everything the four or six people were saying but if they insisted for an hour, it must have some merit.



After a while the tone stopped bothering me but the words didn't. I never saw XXXXXXXX the way I saw her when we walked into that rap that day.

 

 ?and by the time this rap was over, I had NO respect or desire left for this girl. Some part of me hated her for having to watch her be treated like that. There was ?something? she could do to make it stop. She had said as much, and even though I didn?t know what that ?something? was, I hated her for making me witness that series of ?indictments?.



"

That post could have been written by me about what went on in the program I was in over 20 years ago.  The song remains the same. ::noway::

[Anonymous]

::bump::

[Anonymous]

i remember the raps we used to have over at browns. we had this idiot of a human being running the rap. he gave us this sheet of paper and on it were what they called.THINKING ERRORS. i will quate a few. POOR ME.he loved that one. ALL OR NOTHING,FALSE THINKING AND OTHERS I CANT REMEMBER. i went along with it giving people advice like a good CULT MEMBER. thinking i will get out sooner. I DIDNT

omg *runs to room brings out some papers that list the "thinking errors". we did those in "positive attitude journals" i still have afew most of my stuff was trashed.
there are like over a hundred of them heres some:
*Excuses  *Blaming  *Seeking sympathy   *justifying  *redefining
*pet me   *lying  *uniqueness  *making fools of  *assuming
 *fact stacking  *fronting   *minimizing  *vagueness  *anger
*secretiveness  *keeping score or get backs  *grandiosity or maximizing  *victim stance  *lets fight or splitting  *confusion  
*helpless  *you're okay, im okay  *my way or no way (all or nothing)
*hop overs  *"i cant" attitude  *mr. goodguy  *its mine or ownership and entitlement   *refusal to acknowledge fear  *hot shot or cockiness  *avoiding the hot iron  *slacking  *power play  *lack of empathy  *refusal to accept obligations and keep commitments  *silent power  
i hated that shit. they would tell us to fill out the paper it said "right now i am thinking......" and nomatter what we put it was a thinking error. and then we had to circle the thnking error and then fill out the rest of the paper "my alternative smart self talk is...." then "definition of primary thinking error....." and "the alternative to these thinking errors....."       but the staff they had no thinking errors :roll:
that was one of the groups we had to do.
everyday we had a group in the morning  talking about how we were feeling and we had to have new describing words. then we had to say our goal for the day. and for the week. and how we feel our "treatment is going" then they'd talk shit and point out afew things like how so and so needs to brush his teeth more. and "johnny is your diarrhea getting any better? did the medicine help?" morning group wasnt so bad. but then when it came to the raps shit in the day time ughghghghgh. AWFUL! and yes I had to make up stories too. and just talk to fill time so that i would be "furthering my treatment" and then everyone would suck up and give bullshit advice that was coming from their asses. And also try to "hold eachother accountable" snitching and lying.
     I hated hearing the gross stories and the really messed up ones. I was 13. It didnt help me to hear about how this chick next to me was in a cult and gross things they did. and how homeboy raped his little neighbor who was like 3 or something. and then he got mad when people would say thats wrong. or how good it felt to do this drug or that one. and alot of the stories i wondered if they were real or not. but you HAD to tell stories and give feedback. and it HAD to be meaningful to give u points on your card too.

whats fucked up is they expect you to open up to these people and tell them things about you then you cant even talk to them or its secretive behavior. but if you dont talk then you are being unsocial. and we had to sit in our rooms during shift change for afew hours doing nothing. we couldnt sit on our bed or they would say someting stupid to us. if we sat on the floor then most of the time they would say something dumb about it. if we tried to say communicate to someone in a nearby room then that was secretive behavior. man too much stuff i remember.

[OMGimaDONKEY]

all i know is i'm still not right in the head raps and workshops to break your spirit and mind. and my trust fund payed for the whole thing.....ok so i'm stil pissed off about it maybe i should go run my shit

[blownawaytheidahoway]

it may actually make you feel better. but i think it's more likely that you'll just wind up more angry. they ripped off a lot of people, and they hurt some so much they're not sure what else they would be without it.