Fornits
Treatment Abuse, Behavior Modification, Thought Reform => CEDU / Brown Schools and derivatives / clones => Topic started by: Awake on August 14, 2008, 09:07:27 PM
-
THE RAP
The students filed in the room’s door and chose a seat among the circle of chairs. The mostly silent group sat with only a few murmers of conversation. They waited for Mann, one of the staff teamleaders, to join them and begin. The students sat in uncomfortable anticipation for the next minute or so before he entered and took the last seat. Mann looked around briefly and an overly friendly smile grew on his face. “Howz everybody doing.” His greeting was met with a less than enthusiastic response from the rest of the room. “Ok. Who wants to start.” Before the phrase exited his lips three hands shot up simultaneously, but just one voice got in before anyone else’s. “I need to talk”. Mann gave a nod to Michael who immediately got up and switched places with a girl, Michelle, on the opposite side of the circle. Upon sitting directly across from Dan he breathed a sigh. ”Ok Dan, you gotta stop breaking bans with me. You were breakin bans on dishes last night and in the dorm. I wanna talk with you but we’ll never get off bans if you keep doin this.” “When were you breakin bans in the dorm?” Mann injected this comment. “Well, he knocked my toothbrush off the…” “Don’t address me address him!” Mann cut off Michael in mid-sentence. Michael breathed another deep sigh and looked at Dan. “Last night you knocked my toothbrush off the sink and you kept handing it to me even though you knew we were on bans. I know you’re kind of new and we were kind of jokin around for a little bit, but I took my toothbrush and you still were breaking bans after I told you to stop. And you broke bans with me on dishes last night. I mean aren’t you sick of doing dishes? Just stop breaking bans ok?” “Why’re you breakin bans Dan!?” Dan rolled his eyes in an ‘are you serious’ kind of way. “What! I dropped his toothbrush and gave it to him!” “Oh Cmon!... your full of shit! What do you have to say to him Michael?” Taking Mann’s cue Michael began, “Alright all I’m sayin is you KNOW you’re breakin bans and I’m sick of dishes so stop breakin bans with me.” “Who’s your dormhead? Kevin right? Kevin what’s going on in your dorm? Where are you in this?” “I told them to stop breaking bans!” As Kevin made this statement another student, Bryan, got up and switched seats so he sat opposite of Kevin. “Yeah, that’s bullshit Kevin. I see you letting them break bans all the time. Every time I do laundry I see them breaking bans. Plus you guys ALL take longer than five minutes in the shower. My dorm is tight and I think all you guys are slackers. If someones late to house around the pit it’s usually from your room.” Mann’s voice entered. “Is that true Kevin?” “No! I’m always callin them on their shit.” “C’mon man, you know you let them get away with shit.” Bryan said blandly. “Dude that’s bullshit!” Kevin barely had time to yell this out before Mann interjected. “NO YOU’RE BULLSHIT! Tell you what! All three of you are on dishes tonight and Kevin you and I will talk after this is over! We’re movin on! Who else!?”
Carol raised her hand. “Can I go.” “Ok what’s goin on with you?” Mann said this in a caring voice that changed almost instantly from the harsh one he’d just directed at Kevin. Carol immediately got up and exchanged her seat. Carol now sat across from an older student, Nicole. “So Nicole, I just wanted to say I was hoping you’d come sit with me on my table. You’re one of the only people allowed to sit with me that I really want to talk to and I’m bummed you haven’t come to see me lately.” Nicole smiled back. “I’m sorry. I miss seeing you around the house too. I promise I’ll come sit with you soon.” “What else is goin on Carol?” Mann’s inquisition pinned Carols’ mind. “Well, I guess I’m feeling pretty lonely. It’s been almost four weeks on my fulltime and I really miss talking to some of my friends.” “Yeah, you bet. What else is goin on?” “I don’t know I’m just having a hard time I guess. I’m sick of doing writing assignments and I haven’t been off bans from anyone in a long time.” “You bet! What does that feel like?” “I don’t know. I’m sad and pissed off that I have to sit there all day!” Mann then came in with his familiar dialect. “Show me what that feels like. What’s your little kid saying right now?” Carol was stunned by the question. “CMON! WHAT’S IT FEEL LIKE CAROL!” Carol only began to cry but held back. “Yknow what I see Carol? Someone whose just trying to hold it together…. day after day. When are you finally let yourself feel what’s going on?” Carol bent forward and put her face in her palms. For the moment the room was silent. “It’s OK Carol. It’s right there. Just give into it. What’s it feel like to be you right now?” “I FEEL LIKE SHIT!” “Yeah. That’s it right there. How bad does it feel?” Carol took her hands from her face and clasped her knees. “IT FUCKING SUCKS! I FUCKING HATE THIS SHIT! I WANT TO TALK TO MY FRIENDS! I’M SICK OF THIS FUCKING FULL-TIME! FUUUUCK!” “That’s right! What else is going on in there?” Carol hung her head between her legs sobbing and between each breath she screamed “FUCK! FUUUUCK!” “There’s a lot going on inside you right now isn’t there? How hard is it for you to know your actions got you here?” Tears began dripping off her cheeks onto the floor as she listened to Mann. “C’mon what’s your little kid want to say right now? What’s She telling you?” At this point Carol exploded. “FUUUCK YOOOUU! WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS FUCKING UP! YOU STUPID PIECE OF SHIT! FUUCK YOOUU! FUUUCK! FUUUCK!” As she continued screaming Mann softly encouraged her. “You bet. That’s it Carol. That’s the feeling right there.” Slowly Carol began to run out of energy and stopped screaming. She breathed deeply and continued crying. “It’s been a long time since you listened to that voice hasn’t it? Tell me more about what you’re feeling?” “I’m feeling sa-a-ad.” And her bawling deepened. “Yeah…. What about alone? Are you feeling lonely?” “Y-y-yesss” “Yeah… that’s a lot to carry around isn’t it?” Carol only followed Mann’s comment with another wave of deep sobbing. “I bet your feeling hopeless also. Is hopeless there right now?” “H-hyessss! I feel fuckiNG HOPELEEEESSSS!” She barely had the energy or breath to yell out this final time and slumped back into her exhausted body. She continued to cry. “ I want you to just sit with that feeling for awhile. OK? Let’s move on.”
“Who else needs to talk today?” Mann scanned the room and fixed his eyes on Tim who froze in his stare. “Tim didn’t you have someone you needed to talk to in here?” Without responding he got up and exchanged his seat. Looking at Tony he said, “OK, I just think you’ve been spending a lot of time alone lately. I always see you by yourself reading a book instead of socializing. I just think you could spend a little more time with other people that’s all.” “Mmmm OK” Tony said. “What do you mean mmmm ok?! It sounds like you don’t agree with what he said.” Tony then responded to Mann,” I just don’t think I’ve been isolating. If there’s free time I don’t see why I can’t read for a little while.” Just then Michelle got up and sat across from Tony. “I see you reading all the time too. I don’t think you’re being honest. You know you’ve been isolating lately.” Tony didn’t argue back but just folded his arms in frustration. “What’s the problem Tony?! Why won’t you hear what they’re telling you?” Tony knew he had to respond to Mann. “Fine! I won’t read as much. I’ll spend more time with people. OK.” “Nope that’s not good enough. Who’s your big brother?” Tony rolled his eyes. “Chris”. “Why hasn’t Chris been hanging out with you?” “He has been just not all the time.” “Ok Tony, as of now you’re on bans from books and I want to see you and Chris right afterwards, got it? Y’know there’s all these people around you. You need to stop shutting everybody out. Ok who else do we need to get to today?”
“You! New guy!” Mann’s smiling face looked over toward the newest member, Steve, who’d only been there a few days. He froze a moment. “Me?” “Yeah you! What do you think of all this? How many raps is this for you?” “Two.” “So what do you think so far?” Steve was at a loss for words but he managed to get out, “It’s kind of weird. I don’t know.” Mann laughed. “That’s ok we get that here. It might seem weird to you now, but this is a place where we can work out our issues in a safe way. Some people have some anger they need to deal with and raps are the appropriate place to deal with that, not out there. So how have you been since arriving here?” “Ummmmm. I wouldn’t say I’m great.” “Well thats ok. You don’t have to feel great about being here.” Steve didn’t say anything, just sat uncomfortably in the gaze of Mann who smiled in satisfaction. He continued to stare down Steve for a few moments seeming to take pleasure in watching him squirm simply for being put on the spot. “Ok I’ll leave you alone for now.” Mann said this jokingly.
“Let’s see. Oh! I know who I need to talk to. Where’s Jeff..there he is. Jeff! What’s the deal with your personal area?” Jeff shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. It’s completely empty except for that calendar and I might as well start with that. Why is the only thing in your personal area a calendar marked with X’s? You’re just counting the days ‘till you can leave is that right?” “Yeah pretty much.” “ Yknow your head is nowhere NEAR this program. You choose to stay in your shit every moment you’re here. You’ve still got a long time before you’re going anywhere so why don’t you focus on being here?” “Cuz I hate it here.” Katie got up and sat across from Jeff. “I think you hate it here cuz you make it that way for yourself. If you spent less time hating this place and more time on your friendships maybe it wouldn’t be as bad. And after awhile people don’t want to listen to you complain about being here. I think you push people away because you don’t want to invest yourself in friends since you only think of leaving.” Next to Katie sat Mandi who chimed in. “Yeah, I agree with Katie. You keep yourself pretty shallow. I think you could invest more of yourself here.” Just the Mann interrupted. “Well what about you Mandi? Seems like you could invest more of yourself too.” “Yeah Mandi! You’re always talking about leaving too! Take a look at yourself before you come at me with that shit!” Jeff declared. “I heard you talking about wanting to leave just the other day! You and Leslie!” Mann now focused solely on Mandi. “What’s that about Mandi. What were you and Leslie saying?” “We weren’t saying anything. We just were sick of being here!” “No I heard you say you’d be gone if you didn’t live so far away.” Jeff was smug in this comment knowing he was off the hotseat. “God! I wasn’t serious I just…..” “That sounds like a split contract to me!” Mann cut Mandi off. “Do you have a split contract with Leslie?” “No! I do NOT have a split contract. It may have souded like it but….” “But WHAT! Your talking about splitting. How close are you to doing that? Whats going on with you that’s so bad you’re talking about splitting?” “Nothing’s going on I was just frustrated.” “I think you got a lot more going on than that. And you and Leslie are just bringing each other down. You need to start hanging out with people that will keep your head where it needs to be. Tell you what by the end of the rap I want you to give me the name of a Discovery student who you will tell your story to by tomorrow afternoon.” Across the room Dan leaned back in his chair to get a look at the clock. Only 43 minutes had passed. “Dan! Why are you looking over there!” “Sorry I just wanted to…..” “Your attention needs to be in here OK!?” “OK! Sorry.”
Mann sat back in his chair and he glanced around. “O…..kaaaay.” “Actually can I talk?” Monica was raising her hand. “Go ahead. What’s going on.” Mann sat forward in his chair and rested his chin on his fist over his knee in a Thinker pose. “Lately I’ve just felt shitty about lots of things. I miss home a lot and like my older sister got married three days ago and I couldn’t go and I really w-wanted to go…..” She stopped for a second and her eyes became glassy. “It’s ok… go on.” Monica took a deep breath. “Ok so I’ve been trying to ignore that cuz there’s nothing I can do, but it still really bothers me that I couldn’t b-be th-there.” She began to cry. “And I feel like my judgements have really been running me lately. Like I feel like some of my clothes don’t fit and, I don’t know, I’m always watching everything I eat. Like I feel like I can’t even drink juice cuz of the sugar. And… I just…” At that moment Monica flung herself forward in her chair and clenched her fists. “FUUUUCK! I FUCKING HATE IT HERE! I JUST WANT TO GO TO MY FUCKING SISTERS WEDDING! FUUUUCK!” “How bad did you want to be there Mandy?” Mann’s voice was soft and caring. “I WANTED TO GO SO FUCKING BAD! IT FUCKING SUCKS BEING HERE! FUUUUUCK! AND I’M FUCKING SICK OF WORRYING ABOUT EVERYTHING I EAT! FUUUCK YOU YOU FAT FUCKING PIG! FUUUUUUUCK! FU-HU-HUCK!” Mandy continued in a rage while Mann spoke to her. “Yeah….. there’s a lot of feelings inside you. At some point you gotta let those feelings out.” When she stopped screaming she just sat and cried facing the floor. Then Carol, having composed herself, got up and sat across from Monica. “Um Monica I couldn’t go to my brothers wedding so I really understand how much that sucks. That was a tough time for me too. I just wanted to say that.” Monica sat back up in her chair and wiped the tears from her face. “Thanks.” The room sat silent for a moment. “Ok I think I’m done.” But Mann continued looking at her. “Wh-hat are you looking at?” She said half laughing. “Nothing” Mann began smiling back at her. “It’s just good to see the real you once in awhile.” She rolled her eyes and smiled. “Alright already I’m done.”
“Ok. Moving on.”
“I gotta say something.” Kevin got up and sat across from Bryan. “Last week your dorm was still using the laundry room when it was our dorms time. I’d really appreciate it if you wouldn’t do that from now on.” Bryan sat forward. “Whatever man. You’re so full of shit. The other washer wasn’t even being used when I got my clothes out. You’re just playing games.” “I’m not playing games! Dude you know we only have so much time to use the laundry room.” “Oh come off it Kevin!” Mann again entered the conversation. “If this was such a problem for you why didn’t you bring it up last week?” “I would’ve I just never got the chance too!” “Oh cut the crap Kevin. You could’ve told him yourself at anytime. Bryan did he bring this up to you before this?” “Nope.” Bryan said confidently. “What’s the real reason you’re doing this Kevin. Are you just pissed at Bryan for pulling you up when you were out of line?” Just then Helen and Monica got up to sit across from Kevin. Helen began, “Yeah I think you’re just playing games. I don’t think you have any real issues, you’re just trying to get back at Bryan. It really pisses me off that you come in here and pretend you have issues.” Monica quickly grabbed her opportunity to speak. “Yeah I think you’re full of shit and personally it pisses me off because you make it feel unsafe to be here. I have real issues I want to deal with and it’s really disrespectful when you bring your bullshit in here.” “I’m not full of shit I really….” Kevin was cut off by Bryans voice. “You are so full of shit! Are you telling me you didn’t have one chance to bring this up to me in the last week?” “I don’t know maybe but….. “ “Oh get HONEST! Y’know you make it extremely unsafe for people here. Others here have real things they need to talk about.” Amidst the bickering Dan snuck a quick look at the clock...... two hours forty five minutes to go…………
-
Yup. Accurate rap description is accurate. The last sentence, however, is the most relevent ("two hours forty five minutes to go…………"). Fucking endless it was... even when the target wasn't you. BItch bitch bitch. Ever since program I have had a very low tolerance for drama or any TV show like Dr Phil or Jerry Springer. It's like I developed an allergy or something from overexposure.
-
Wow.
Well done. So well done I couldn't stand to read more than 10 sentences before I felt the rap walls closing in on me.
I remember being in raps and thinking "what the fuck", "these fucking raps and the absolute horse shit that goes on in here is getting seared into my brain.
I will never forget this crap.
I'm filling up my head with some much unnecessary bullshit.
How can I forget this. How can I 'unrap' my self.
I can't.
Fuck.
I always found it especially irritating when people would run their anger about not being able to leave and attend a legitimate family event.
So pointless.
And the facilitators coaxing them on.
Give me a fucking break.
It's like writing shit down for the sole purpose of erasing it. So pointless and patronizing.
Mutual masturbation.
Here's a good question.
Looking back on it - reflect and then ponder this. As a day 1 voyageur would you agree to cut off 1 finger to be granted lifetime exemption from raps?
I think I could do without my left pinky.
Would you sacrifice a thumb not to go through any raps, propheets or workshops???
-
sweet boneless christ...i thought that post was going to go on forever. just like raps. that was painful to read. now i know why my memories of that place are so hazy for periods of time...what's freaking me out is that that shit is seared into my subconscious, taking up vast amounts of space that would be better served with hazy patchoulli filled dead shows, or you know, maybe falling off a building. i've become convinced that in tearing us down and building us back up (which in itself is FUCKED) little subconscious triggers were put into place, like a little minefield and you never know which wrong step is gonna have it blowing up in your face. we were never really given a chance to figure out who we were, because those cocksuckers decided who we were for us. i was a slut, and a victim, and a liar, and a bad friend.
i remember jumping in on someone's indictment hoping that because i participated i'd be over looked for the rest of the rap. and i also remember how that blew up in my face many a time. god. and all the petty bullshit. and the intense fear and anxiety. dreading walking into that room. especially when you knew someone was gunning for you.
i need to stop writing about this. it's like chasing myself in circles. how do we move on?
Awake...well fucking done.
-
It's kind of a sad testament really, that I could write this over a decade later. This stuff's not even based on any particular memories, it's just sort of a reflection on the mechanics of how a rap moved around. hell I didn't really have to think to write it, it wrote itself and could've probably kept going forever if I let it. Well all in all it represented an ordinary rap I thought, but anything could happen from where it ended. There were worse raps where damn near everyone was doing work at once or some poor kid comes out with some terrible disclosure because they couldn't handle their full-time only to be attacked for not coming out with it in the last propheet. I think some of my worst memories are the ones where someone is just getting obviously brutalized and degraded and I just remember sitting there doing nothing, like it wouldn't even cross my mind that it was wrong. So good thing I ended it there I guess.
"How can 'unrap' myself" Well said. Writing this was like riding a bike. If bikes mind-raped you people would really wish they could forget how to ride one.
"...What's freaking me out is that shit is seared into my subconscious." Yes. It's kind of like reading. Now that you know how to do it you can't help but see words instead of a mess of letters. Only this shit is just wasting brainpower. A highly refined understanding of bullshit.
"Bitch, bitch, bitch...." Yes yes yes....
-
"a highly refined understanding of bullshit". well said. i think my first rap was one of my top 3 worst. in 2 and 1/2 years. i actually remember my 4 worst, the rest of them were just put into a smoky compartment in my brain somewhere (which is kind of odd because i don't usually compartmentalize, but i suppose the mind does what it must). my first rap was in the hobbit (sounded kind of quaint and innocuous) and not 3 minutes in someone was flipping out 2 chairs away from me and running their shit because they'd run away and been raped and had to testify (hopefully that's anonymous enough). needless to say, i was freaked the fuck out. and i never split. weird how that shit stays with you. i still think about that person. i don't think i said more than 2 words to them before they left/graduated but i still think about them.
-
Holy shit. I think i could probably inserted a few Amity names in there and it would have been perfectly accurate. scary. scary. Although I remember some of our staff screaming till they were purple- foaming at the mouth really, for longer periods of time.....
-
Puking in a rap / propheet was the holy grail of "getting in touch with your feelings".
I recall a couple of these incidents.
Very disturbing.
What's more disturbing is that I felt it raised the bar too much. How the fuck am I supposed to compete with that? It's like Michael Jordan showed up to a game of pick and completely ruined the curve.
Shit - you're in the rap and you got your head down and your hands on the side of your face (or on your forehead) in that faker position.....you've got a sizeable number of peers around you 'running their shit. All in various stages. There were always a few kids synched in one of the 3 stages of hysteria. Prying open their vault of pain with fits of angry rants. Once sufficiently battered, the hinges of sanity would finally snap. Then the release, heavier than wet cement. Real, imagined and sanctioned trauma spilled from every orifice - a torrential downpour of emotion. And finally the spent shell. Pleading for redemption. Yearning to be built back up in the image of Kahil Gibrahn himself. Only the wisdom of veteran staff member could patch you back together in the divine manner.
- snot's flying -
- saline drenched, wadded up tissues everywhere -
- yellow rectangles zipping across the carpet : triage in a box. white sheets of salvation for all.
- it's fucking loud yet there's a profound quiet before your own storm. You can feel they eye of the hurricane envelope you. Everywhere you look chaos taking shape in the form of nerve racking trauma belted out in every octave.
- Ocassionally your senses take hold of you and remind you that every minute aspect of this therapeutic farce is insane and wrong. But then you see a staff head rise and with that crazy healing look in their eye as they scan the circle for reluctant souls. They're hunting down those they know have similar 'issues' to the kid that they just led down some dank demented boulevard to the dungeons of Mel's screamatorium. At this moment you wish you were blind. You'd sooner saw your own arm off than make eye contact with the therapeutic overlord in the room.
So you put your head down and act like your retreating into the cave of all things crippling and soul crushing.
"Do I wait to be indicted or do I shotgun start my own chaotic emotional exorcism"?
hmmmm...
"maybe I'll sit this one out and hope that people wear themselves out to the point of exhaustion and I skate by "?
"no that rarely works- I really don't want the power staff du jour to give me that disappointing look and guilt sandwich at the end of the rap. But I don't want to play fake therapy in this room full of nut jobs either".
-Do I want to be cast in the shadows of or join all those puffy eyed, swollen faced 'look good' swamp creatures. Leaning in their chair, into the circus trained healer next to them. Sobbing. Whimpering. Drying themselves off after falling into their own cauldron of cedu sanctioned emotions. Leaving them soaked with bewilderement, euphoria and one step closer to a volatile and boundary free identity.
hmmm - what to do, what to do?
-
That captures the feeling I remember having before I blew spittle all over the floor. (Did they ever steam clean those carpets?) That internal arguement of should I or shoul I not. Knowing sooner or later you have to play the part. It might be the next minute or maybe the next rap. Watching people scream in a frenzy. I think that fearful anticipation of waiting for the attention to be on you was many times the straw that broke the camels' back. Rap after rap having that feeling that you won't get out of it next time. That itself seemed to be enough to lose it and start doing "real work". Fake work too though, hell eventually you develop that instinct that lets you know your luck has run out and the only option is to force yourself to yell till your red in the face. Otherwise you'd only get butchered before you had to do it anyways. Even when faking it though it was pretty easy to "get in touch with my anger". There was alot that I was pissed about there so all you really had to do was think of all the bullshit you were going through and yell fuck you over and over. In a weird way it was kind of a paradox. Sometimes you were doing work cuz you had to do work and you hated having to do work, so you had genuine anger just because you were doing work at that moment. The very act of doing work made me mad that I had to do it so I did more work about how pissed I was at doing work. It's like an audio feedback cycle. Hold a microphone up to a speaker its connected too and make a tiny noise. The noise is played back out of the speaker and into the microphone again only louder and louder as the speaker amplifies the sound each time the sound cycles through the speaker and microphone.
-
Very good, clear, lucid discussion. Very good descriptions of the process - especially of the cyclical anger - the anger and rage that is created simply by yelling and yelling and yelling, starting from a place of calm, one becomes insane and incensed, for the purpose of satisfying the cult dynamic, the forced purgation and catharsis - all instead of simply having normal teen-aged interests, relationships, hobbies, studies and pursuits.
I've posted a link to this discussion at "calling all Cedu survivors":
http://liamscheff.com/daily/2008/05/22/ ... mment-8277 (http://liamscheff.com/daily/2008/05/22/calling-all-cedu-survivors/#comment-8277)
-
"Awake," I've quoted you here:
http://liamscheff.com/daily/2008/08/22/ ... anon-game/ (http://liamscheff.com/daily/2008/08/22/cedu-documentary-cedu-raps-and-the-synanon-game/)
When were you at Cedu? Which staff are you thinking of when writing "Mann."
A very good recreation of a standard rap - but then things would also become intensely and insanely personal, in the discussion of personal issues, attacks on people's histories, name-calling, vilification, debasement and total denigration and annihilation (by others and by self); the degree to which these experiences created a venue for staff to student, peer to peer, and self-directed abuse is quite remarkable, and I think would be shocking to read...
I'll think about it, and see what memory provides. It's harrowing, honestly.
-
Thanks. I'm glad you like it. Should I try and finish it? I must say I felt that I had to keep the content somewhat restrained because in general there are more personal things that get attention in raps. It's a little easier to produce a hypothetical rap situation like I did here when its about the day to day bullshit, but when it comes to the disclosures or really touchy personal issues that were cast out publicly it's pretty hard to make up situations that would do as much justice as what really happened. The real story is stranger than fiction so to speak and I guess I wouldn't want to sound like I'm reffering to a particular person. Does anyone think I should be concerned about posting some extreme situation that may bear striking resemblance to a specific person(s)? I agree it doesn't capture completely the extremes a rap can go to, but that's my quanadry with going further with it. Well I'll see if I can't get around it somehow.
BTW I was a Cedu RS mid 90's and Mann is probably who you think it is.
-
Hello "Awake,"
My tenure in captivity ended in 1990 - Is "Mann" also Mr. Bentz? Both German names?
Drop me a line anytime via email (just post something at the blog, and I'll email you), if you'd like to compare notes, or talk further.
Yes, I think you should finish it, if you have energy to do so. I think the telling of these stories prompts memory to free itself from its hidden places, and promotes an opening up of all of our stories. I wish that those many who are such gifted writers at this site would come forward and write even a small essay, or a single chapter of experience, to start to put together a living record of these odd experiences that do seem so bound and trapped in a time and place, and therefore so unreal at times.
Writing it, saying it aloud, remembers the past into the present, but also places it in the perspective of our adult, experienced selves, and we can view our experiences through the light of ethics and experience, of societal norms and of what we've discovered about human development.
-
THE RAP CONTINUED.........
In the next room over an entirely different situation was taking place. “I bet you really watch what you eat dontcha. I know what it’s like to try and throw up hard foods like chips. No, you go for a piece of fruit or something soft so it comes up easier. Why are you sitting like that!?” “Like what?” “Like what?” Sandy mimicked Sheila’s pointless defense. “You’ve got your arms crossed across your chest. You’re not taking any of this seriously are you?” A girl, Tristen, got up and sat across from Sheila. “Ya. You are being really defensive. Don’t pretend you don’t have a problem cuz believe me I know. I used to make myself throw up so much that my finger wouldn’t work for me anymore. It got so bad I had to roll up newspapers to stick down my throat or I wouldn’t be able to throw up.” “How do you do it Sheila? Do you use your finger? Or do you just know how to make yourself do it without anything? That was how I did it. I was so good at it I didn’t even have to use a finger. I bet you do it that way too dontcha.” Sandy, now speaking, leaned forward and looked at Sheila who still sat with her arms crossed. “Heellloooo!!!!! Are you listening at all?!” Sheila made no response. “Y’know what, if you’re not willing to work on yourself we’re not going to waste our time with you! It’s your choice. You can sit at your table and waste time or you can choose to get something positive from it.” Tristen came in “Can I just say one last thing? For me this was a really tough issue to deal with and I’m still dealing with it and it makes me sad to watch you sit there and not confront your issues. I really want to be there to support you, but you aren’t even trying to work on yourself.” “Work on herself? She won’t even admit she HAS A PROBLEM!!! It’s time for you to get real!” “Can I say something?” “NO! She’s wasting our time! Let’s let some other people talk in here.”
“Randy you wanted to go. Go.” Randy got up and took a place across from Eric. “Eric I think you should be watching who you spend your time with. It wasn’t very long ago that you broke the sex agreement and you and Alison are hangin out a lot.” “What are you talking about we’ve only been off bans for like two weeks!” “Yeah well you guys are still together a lot.” “Yea. When…” “I’m not done!” Randy wasn’t about to let Marla cut him off. “I mean nothing may be going on but it still looks that way and you should be paying attention to that.” “Yea it’s like I totally see you going right back to your shit. You and your friends are really clicky. Ever since you got off bans it’s like you went right back to your old image. Once you get around them you get really sarcastic and fast and…..” “There’s red flags going up all around you Eric! This is the same behavior that got you in trouble in the first place!” Sandy interjected. “Can you really not see what these people are saying?” “No I can see what they’re saying. I’ve just spent a lot of time with them cuz we were on bans, but I hear what they’re saying.” “I hope so.” Sandy sat back in her chair and held her gaze on Eric. “Consider this a warning Eric.”
“Does someone else want to go? Devin. I haven’t heard from you in awhile how are you?” “Not that great I guess.” “Why not that great?” “I don’t know I’ve been getting frustrated lately. I was made a dormhead a couple weeks ago and I just don’t like it.” “What are you saying you can’t handle the responsibility?” “No it’s not that I just… I’m having a hard time I guess and I feel like I have enough to deal with….” Sandy took over. “So what’s really goin on? Your problems are much deeper than just being a dormhead aren’t they?” Devin leaned forward. “C’mon man I know you’ve been having a hard time lately.” This comment came from a friend, Luke. “We’ve talked before so I know we’ve got some of the same issues.” Devin didn’t hesitate. “Fuuuuck! FUUUUUUCK! FUUUUCK YOU YOU STUPID FUCKING PIECE OF SHIIIIT!! FUCK THIS BULLSHIT SCHOOL! FUCK BEING A FUCKING DORMHEAD! WHY DO I HAVE TO BE ON MANN’S FUCKING TEAM YOU FUCKING PRICK FUUUUUCK!” “That’s it! What’s really goin on Devin!” “I fucking HATE IT HERE! I’M FUCKING STUCK IN THIS STUPID HOLE! YOU STUPID FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT! YOU’LL NEVER HAVE A FUCKING GIRLFRIEND YOU UGLY FUCKING FUCK! FUUUUUUUCK! FUUUUUUUCK YOOOUUU!” “There’s more there Devin! C’mon get….” “FUUUUCK! FUUUUCK! I FUCKING HATE YOU! FUUUUCK!” “That’s right! Go for broke Devin!” “FUUUUCK YOU YOU STUPID FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT! I HATE YOU FOR SENDING ME HERE YOU STUPID FUCKS! FUUUUCK YOU GOD YOU FUCKING FUCK! I HATE MY PARENTS! I HATE MYSELF YOU FUCK! I CAN’T FUCKING STAND THIS FUCKING PLACE ANYMORE! FUUUUUUCK!” -- “FUUUUUUCK! FUUUUCK YOU! GODAMNIT I FUCKING HATE YOU!” Just then Julie began screaming as well, her voice a high pitched screeching diminishing his lower toned voice. “FUUCK YOU GODAMNIT!” “That’s it Julie what are you saying to yourself right now!” “I’M FUCKING PATHETIC! I’M A FUCKING PATHETIC FREAK! I LOOK LIKE A FUCKING MAN! MY HANDS ARE FUCKING HUGE! LOOK AT MY FUCKING HUGE FUCKING HANDS! I’M A DISGUSTING FREAK! FUUUUUUCK YOOOUUUU! FUUUUCK!” At this point Sandy could barely be heard over the two of them. “You bet Julie! What’s it like to hold that judgement on yourself day after day!” “IT FUCKING SUUCKS! WHY THE FUCK DO YOU DO THIS! FUUUCK YOU YOU DIGUSTING FREAK!” “What’s it like to let those judgements control you! What’s it like to live your lie every day!!” Sandy barely finished the sentence before Julie let out a defening scream. “AAAAAAAAA!FUUUUUUUUCK! FUUUUUCK! I HATE YOU! FUUUUUCK!” Devin’s screams began to subside and Julie was fairly close behind. “Fuck! Fu-hu-huuuck!” “Yeah.” Sandy said to Julie. “It’s hard to hold those judgements against you all the time isn’t it?” “Yes! FuUUCK!” “What’s your truth Julie?” Julie only responded by crying harder. “You’re thinking about it right now Julie, what is it?” Julie began crying hard. “Innoce-e-ent.” “Yeah. Innocent. You are innocent. How does your truth feel?” “It f-feels goo-hood.” “Yeah. It feels good doesn’t it? Why don’t you let that in more? You know your truth yet you choose to ignore it. How about you Devin? What’s your truth?” “I’m Honest.” Devin had recouperated somewhat. “Yeah. Honest. Just feel that feeling. What about you Sheila What’s your truth?!” Sheila was still sitting in the same position…her arms crossed her chest. She said nothing. “You can’t even say it can you? Are you so deep in your lie you can’t even say your truth outloud?” Sheila made a sour face at that and shook her head slightly. “It’s beautiful.” “Yeah….beautiful. What’s so hard about that. Is that hard to hear? That you’re beautiful?” Sheila bent foreward and screamed at the top of her lungs. “FUUUUCK YOU YOU FUCKING BITCH! YOU STUPID FUCKING BITCH I FUCKING HAAATE YOOOUUUU!” “That’s exactly right isn’t it Sheila. What have you been holding back on this whole time?!” “I FUCKING HATE YOU YOU PIECE OF FUCKING SHIT! YOU FUCKING BITCH!” “Why is it so hard to hear that you’re beautiful? It must feel pretty bad if you can’t even listen to your truth! Or are living your lie?!” “FUUUCK YOU YOU STUPID BITCH!” Sheila continued on her tyrade. “I FUCKING HATE YOU YOU YOU FUCKING BITCH!.” “Your truth is so far away from you right now. How far away from beautiful are you right now Sheila?!” “FUUUUUUCK YOOOOU! FUUUUU-HUUU-HUUUUCK! YOU STUPID SLUT! YOU GODDAMN BITCH!” Sandy withheld any comments for a minute while Sheila continued screaming in a rage. “How long were you going to hold onto that? How long were you planning on waiting before you showed us how you really feel?” “FUCK YOU YOU MOTHERFUCKING SLUT! FUUUUUUUCK!” “What are you feeling right now Sheila?” “I’M FUCKING PISSED OFF! GODAMN I’M SOOO FUUUUCKIING PIIISSED!” “Of course your pissed off. There’s a lot for you to be pissed off about. What are you pissed at?” “GODAMN FUUUUCK! I’M PISSED AT FUCKING EVERYTHING!” “Like what?” “I’M PISSED AT FUCKING DISHES, I’M PISSED AT MY TABLE, I’M PISSED I HAVE TO GO INTO EVERY FUCKING RAP AND TALK ABOUT THIS EVERY FUCKING TIME! FUUUUCK!” Sandy had become quite calm as she spoke to Sheila. “Who are you really pissed at then Sheila?” Sheila grabbed the hair on top of her head. “FUUUUUUCK! GODAMN FUUUUCKING FUUUUCK!” “C’mon Sheila! You know the answer to this. Who are you really pissed at! Who’s making themself throw up in the bathroom?! Who is it Sheila?!” “FUUUCK I’M PISSED AT MY FUCKING SELF! FUUUCK YOU YOU FUCKING SLUT! YOU FUCKING BITCH!” “Yea. You’re pissed at yourself. What is it like to be so angry with yourself?” Sheila finally began to cry, her rage having wiped out her energy. She bawled so deeply she could not speak. “It must be hard to be that mad at yourself. Y’know you ARE beautiful you just choose to cover it up. Can you say that about yourself? Can you say I am beautiful?” Sheila cried harder and pressed her palms over her eyes while facing the floor. “fu-huUCK YOU!” “I am beautiful. You can do it Sheila……. I am beautiful.” “I a-am beautifu-ul.” Sheila continued crying. “You better believe it! Of course you are.” The room was quiet and Sheila sat doubled over her lap still weeping. “You just stay in that place for awhile ok? Stay with beautiful.” “Can I say something?” “Sure, go ahead Luke.” “Umm Devin. I have a lot of the same judgements as you and I just want to say I hope you know you can come talk to me any time man.” “Thanks man. I will.”
“Ok who’s next.” The room was silent. “C’mon I know there’s people that have other people to talk to in here.” Calvin and Brad both raised their hands then quickly pointed at one another as if to say ‘It’s ok you go ahead’. “Pick someone already! Brad!Go!” Brad breathed a sigh as he got up to switch his seat. “Ok this isn’t like a huge deal but Thomas you were like barely working on dinner dishes last night. We asked to get checked off but your section was never complete. I had to help you finish your job so we could go. So I’m just saying it’s cool but next time hopefully you can work a little harder.” Next to Brad Ellie joined in. “I’ve been on dishes with you the last three nights and you are ALWAYS slacking off. When you sweep and mop you don’t even get all the way under the tables and theres always food left underneath.” “Thomas! Jeez are you kidding me!” Sandy gave Thomas a stern look. “You have been on dishes SO many times I couldn’t even count. Does someone really need to show you how to do your job again?” “No I know how to I just missed some stuff.” Ellie was quick to comment. “That is total bullshit! You are totally cutting corners on dishes all the time!” “Whaaat are you serious?” “What do you mean am I serious! We were seriously there at least a half hour more because of you.” “I agree with Ellie.” Brad again chimed in. “I don’t know about you but I’d rather spend my time in the house. I really don’t see why you’d do a half assed job when you could just do it right and be done.” Sandy rolled her eyes. “How many times are we gonna go through this Thomas? I’m serious how many times do you have to hear the same feedback over and over and over? I’m getting really tired of hearing this every time I’m in a rap with you. Can you just get it together please so I don’t have to hear this anymore?” “Yes” “Yes I will work harder on dishes!?” “Yes I will work harder on dishes.” “Thank you. I assume you’re on dishes tonight?” “Yes.” “Good.”
“Calvin you wanted to go next?” “Yeah Ellie. I heard you and Mandi popping off while you were carrying the trash to the dumpster on dishes last night.” “Yea. I catch you guys popping off in the house too.” Ellie squinted her eyes and looked at Marla. “When did I ever pop off in the house?” “Well your not totally popping off but you totally cut corners. I hear you guys humming…..” “Whatever Marla! You are the biggest look good ever! You’re always looking for an excuse to indict someone!” Calvin then got up and sat next to Ellie. “To tell you the truth this is pissing me off too. You’re always following someone else’s indictment. Why aren’t you ever the first to indict somebody yet you always have something to say.” “I really don’t understand how that makes me a look good.” Julie got up and sat across from Marla. “Please. You know you’re a look good. You pull people up for the lamest shit. You even tell the guys to tuck their shirts in more if their just barely hanging over their belts. I just have a hard time believing anything you say because there’s no way you really have a problem with that stuff. You’re just trying to look good…….
An hour and fifteen minutes left to go and yet another rap, in the building just up from the main house, was taking place. “Ok guys there’s something we really need to get to today and that is Stephen. You guys know he’s been on a full time for the last week aaaand he’s there because he decided it was ok to go through the I want to live dirty aaaaand …. Well he wants to share something with you. Why don’t you go ahead Stephen.” Jessie nodded at Stephen who breathed in a deep breath. Before he could speak five members of his peer group got up to sit across from him. “Ok well you know why I’m on my full-time and….” “I don’t think everyone here has heard why you’re on your full-time. Can you tell them please?” Stephen again took in a deep breath and rolled his eyes back. “Ok. Before the I Want to Live me and Carol broke the sex agreement and that’s why I’m on my table. But I’ve been working on some really hard stuff for me that I….” “Actually I never really heard about this yet so can you explain what happened a little more?” Stephen didn’t respond to Ryan right away. He hung his head for a moment. “Ok. Thirteen days ago on Sunday after dinner me and Carol went into the woods and had sex. That’s pretty much it.” “That’s about it? Did you just lie down in the dirt to do it?” Jessie commented, “There’s more to this story lets have it.” “Alright um… I had a jacket and so did Carol and we used them to lie on.” “Actually can you just start from the beginning? Like when did you decide to do this?” Stephen closed his eyes for a moment in lieu of Ryan’s question. “Ok probably a week before that out in front of the house I told her I liked her and she said she liked me too. For the next week we were kind of flirting but we really didn’t plan anything we just kind of did it. And.. I don’t know that’s pretty much everything that happened.” Ryan sat back in his chair. “Ok I just haven’t heard yet… so….” The room was silent for an awkward moment while Stephen stared tensely at the floor. “But that’s not all you have to tell these guys is it?” Stephen kept staring but knew he couldn’t put off Jessie’s question much longer. His eyes began to glaze over. “W-well you guys know why I’m on my table now and since then I’ve been working on some tough issues aand its not something you guys know about me.” Stephen leaned his elbows on his knees and tears dripped from his eyes. “Go ahead Stephen. Tell them what you told me.” Stephen was holding back tears mustering the strength to answer Jessie. “So when I was younger …in like fifth grade…..” Stephen hung his head back down and sniffled in a noseful of snot. “You know you can tell us anything. We just went through the I Want to live together. Whatever you have to say isn’t going to change what we think of you.” “Yeah. Seriously. You know how much we’ve already been through together.” Nancy followed Aaron’s statement along with a few others seeking to console him and coax his issues to surface. “So w-when I was in fifth grade me and my friend would w-watch my older sister take showers. Fffffuck…. We did it like five times. There wasn’t a lock on the b-bathroom door. She – fuck-hhhh- she caught us once and I don’t know….. it’s …. I’m not proud of it.” After a long uncomfortable silence Nancy said, “Well I’m glad your being honest and telling us about this. I’m disappointed that you went through the I want to live dirty cuz that really meant a lot to me, but I’m glad to see you’re working on your table.” Clark quickly chimed in. “Well I’m glad um y’know that you’re finally working on yourself and I think it’s good that you’re being honest with us about this, but um I just wish you would have respected all of us in your peer group enough to come out with this in the I want to live, y’know… I mean…..” “I gotta say I feel the same way I mean we were partners in there. I said a lot of things that were hard for me too and to know you could go through it without coming out with this stuff? I just feel like its hard to trust you.” Clark again claimed a place to speak after Will. “Can I ask you a question? Honestly? Why didn’t you come out with this in the I want to live? I’m just askin cuz it seems to me that would be when you would do that don’t you think?” There was a brief silence before Jessie spoke again. “He makes a good point don’t you think Stephen? Wasn’t the I want to live the time to tell this to these guys? Why didn’t this come out then?” Stephen began crying into his palms and sucked in the snot hanging from his nose. “I DON’T FUCKING KNOW OK! I FUCKED UP! IT’S NOT LIKE THE I WANT TO LIVE DIDN’T MEAN ANYTHING!” “How could it mean anything if you go through dirty! How could you get anything from it if you won’t open up and get honest about yourself!” After Nancy said this Stephen reached down and grabbed his calves. “FUUUUUCK! FUUUUUCK! FUUUU-HUUUUCK YOOO-HOOOUU!” “That’s it. What are you feeling like Stephen.” Jessie’s voice was stern but quiet. “I’M FUCKING SICK OF MYSELF! I FEEL SO FUCKING DISGUSTING!” “Why disgusting Stephen.” “WHY THE FUCK DO YOU FUCKING THINK YOU FUCK! I WATCHED MY FUCKING SISTER TAKE A FUCKING SHOWER! FUUUCK! FUUUUCK YOOO-HOOOHOOOOU!” “What else are you feeling?” “FUUUUCK!FUUUUUCK!” “C’mon Stephen what do you call yourself for doing that!” “FUUUUCK YOOUU YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE PIECE OF SHIT! FUUUUUCK!” “C’mon Stephen what are you calling yourself right now! What do you think the people around you are saying right now!” “FUUUUUUUUCK! FUUUU-HUUUU-HUUUUCK!” “What is it Stephen?! What’s the word in your head right now!!” “YOU SICK FUCKING FREAK!! I FUCKING HATE YOU YOU SICK FFFUUUUUUCK!” “What does sick fuck feel like! C’mon Stephen you’re right there!” “IT FUUUCKING SUUUCKS! I’M A SIICK FUUCKING FREAK! FUUU-HUUU-HUUUUCK! FUUUUCK YOOOUUU! FUUUUUUUUCK! FUUUUU-HUUUU-HUUUUCKING! GODAMN YOU YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE PIECE OF SHIIIIIT! FUUUUUUUUUCK!” “Feels pretty bad doesn’t it?” “FUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCKK! UUHUU… FFUUUUUUUCCKKHHHUU-HUU….HHFFUCK!” Stephen could hardly get a breath through his screams. Snot and saliva were streaming from his nose and mouth. Someone next to him pulled a few Kleenex out of the box and threw them on the floor beneath his face. “FUUUUUUCK YOU! FUUUUUUCK! UHHHUUuhhhuu….FHUUHUhuhuck!” Someone handed Stephen some tissues which he took and mopped his face with. He continued crying. “It’s not easy facing the hard truth.” For awhile the group was silent as they watched Stephen empty out the last of his pain, rage and sorrow. “Thanks for sharing. You really opened up, you should feel good about that. And I’m sure your peer group is glad you shared with them too.” “Yea Stephen.” “Thanks Stephen”. A few people chimed in as Jessie spoke.
“Ok guys. We’ve got some time left. Let’s get to whatever else we need to get to. Whoever’s ready just go.” Isaac got up and sat across from George. “Alright George I seriously don’t want to be rude but you kinda smell. Like I really don’t want to bring it up but… I don’t know you just really need to use more deodorant or something. I seriously… I’m not trying to embarrass you but it’s true. That’s it.” George lifted his hands up just higher than his head. “Ok man. I’ll wear more deodorant I guess.” “Ummm. I hate to say it but you do kind of stink.” Sandra joined Isaac. “I pass by you sometimes and it’s like serious b.o. and your hair is like super greasy. I’m sorry for saying that but it just… is kinda gross.” George looked away. “Gimme a fucking break….” Jamie then addressed Marcus. “You’re in George’s dorm aren’t you? Do you notice anything wrong with George’s hygene?” “Heeeeeeshhhh….yaaaa… I do sometimes.” “So why aren’t you saying anything?” “I mean I can I…” “Get a voice!” Marcus got up and sat across from George. “George you should listen to what they’re saying. Your hygene could be better and you don’t put much effort into your appearance. That’s just what I think ok?” “Ok man whatever. I’ll fucking clean myself. It’s fine really you’ve made your point I get it. Can we just please move on?” Jessie waited a moment and looked around to see if anybody had anything to add.
“Ok. Let’s move on.” “I have something to say to somebody.” Josh got up and switched seats. “This is to Martin. I heard you telling your story to Michael yesterday and I know pot is part of your story but you guys were TOTALLY war storying together. You were sayin like how you used to get the dankest pot and he was too. I mean you were really sounding like you guys were in your shit.” “Were you talking about it like that Martin?” Martin tensed up as he tried to answer Jessie. “Welllllll….maybe a little bit but really….” “Don’t candy coat it. Were you talking about it like Josh is saying you did?” Martin took a deep breath. “Yeah we were.” Jessie sat forward leaning his elbows on his knees and shook his head. “Uh- uh. Mm-mm nope. That’s not acceptable. You know your not supposed to do that. Not ok.” Jessie was still looking Martin shaking his head. “I see you as being really in your shit right now. Your mind’s in the gutter. Not ok.” “I don’t really think I’m in my shit. I know I shouldn’t have done that but it was just a mistake kind of.” “No I don’t see that. You’re in your old image, you’re glorifying your drug experiences…. Uh-uh….. that’s totally unacceptable. After this rap come and see me so we can talk about this ok? Let’s move on.”
“C’mon guys. Anyone else before we wrap this up?” Jessie looked around the room until his eyes landed on the boy next to him, Dean, who he stared at with a smirk on his face. Deans eyes widened. Jessie lightly elbowed Dean a couple times. “Hey.” “Hey” “Howr you doin Dean? How have you been since the I want to live?” “I’ve been pretty good.” “Yeah? Have you been holding onto some of that stuff?” “Yeah I mean I find myself struggling with it but I still feel like I got a lot from it soo yeah.” “How bout the rest of you guys. You still paying attention to those tools?” “<yes>(yeah) [me too ya.]” Several voices came in response. Jessie lead the final stretch of the rap by going around the room one by one giving everyone a chance to say something before letting them go.
Back in the house Mann was finishing up his rap too. “Yknow some people did some really great work in here today…. Carol. How’r you feeling right now?” “I’m feeling Ok I guess.” “You really were listening to your little kid today. What’s her name?” Carol cracked a small smile. “I really hate you.” “Oh c’mon what’s your little girls name just say it.” Carol smiled and put her hand over her mouth. “Care Bear.” Mann just looked at her and smiled. “I’m glad you decided to let her come out today.” Mann continued to stare at her while she kept her hand over her mouth. “I’m not supposed to smile.” Mann chuckled a little when she said this. “Yknow what. For the last few minutes before this rap is over can we get a smoosh pile here on the floor. C’mon everybody down, you too Carol.” “Does that mean I can be off bans from….” “Yeeesss only till the rap is over.” Carol ran over to smoosh with her friends as did everyone in a happy pile for the next few minutes. Raps were over for today…….
-
jesus. that was painful.
-
(I asked awake if I could convert his post into script format. Awake agreed - so here it is.)
In the next room over an entirely different situation was taking place.
Sandy: “I bet you really watch what you eat dontcha. I know what it’s like to try and throw up hard foods like chips. No, you go for a piece of fruit or something soft so it comes up easier. Why are you sitting like that!?”
Sheila: “Like what?”
Sandy: “Like what?” Sandy mimicked Sheila’s pointless defense. “You’ve got your arms crossed across your chest. You’re not taking any of this seriously are you?”
A girl, Tristen, got up and sat across from Sheila.
Tristen: “Ya. You are being really defensive. Don’t pretend you don’t have a problem cuz believe me I know. I used to make myself throw up so much that my finger wouldn’t work for me anymore. It got so bad I had to roll up newspapers to stick down my throat or I wouldn’t be able to throw up.”
Sandy: “How do you do it Sheila? Do you use your finger? Or do you just know how to make yourself do it without anything? That was how I did it. I was so good at it I didn’t even have to use a finger. I bet you do it that way too dontcha.”
Sandy, now speaking, leaned forward and looked at Sheila who still sat with her arms crossed. “Heellloooo!!!!! Are you listening at all?!” Sheila made no response. “Y’know what, if you’re not willing to work on yourself we’re not going to waste our time with you! It’s your choice. You can sit at your table and waste time or you can choose to get something positive from it.”
Tristen: “Can I just say one last thing? For me this was a really tough issue to deal with and I’m still dealing with it and it makes me sad to watch you sit there and not confront your issues. I really want to be there to support you, but you aren’t even trying to work on yourself.”
Sandy: “Work on herself? She won’t even admit she HAS A PROBLEM!!! It’s time for you to get real!”
Tristen: “Can I say something?”
Sandy: “NO! She’s wasting our time! Let’s let some other people talk in here.”
“Randy you wanted to go. Go.” Randy got up and took a place across from Eric.
Randy: “Eric I think you should be watching who you spend your time with. It wasn’t very long ago that you broke the sex agreement and you and Alison are hangin out a lot.”
Eric: “What are you talking about we’ve only been off bans for like two weeks!”
Randy: “Yeah well you guys are still together a lot.”
Eric: “Yea. When…”
Randy: “I’m not done!” Randy wasn’t about to let Marla cut him off. “I mean nothing may be going on but it still looks that way and you should be paying attention to that.” “Yea it’s like I totally see you going right back to your shit. You and your friends are really clicky. Ever since you got off bans it’s like you went right back to your old image. Once you get around them you get really sarcastic and fast and…..” “There’s red flags going up all around you Eric! This is the same behavior that got you in trouble in the first place!”
Sandy: “Can you really not see what these people are saying?”
Eric: “No I can see what they’re saying. I’ve just spent a lot of time with them cuz we were on bans, but I hear what they’re saying.”
Sandy: “I hope so.” Sandy sat back in her chair and held her gaze on Eric. “Consider this a warning Eric.”
(Sandy ends with Eric and focuses on Devin)
Sandy: “Does someone else want to go? Devin. I haven’t heard from you in awhile how are you?”
Devin: “Not that great I guess.”
Sandy: “Why not that great?”
Devin: “I don’t know I’ve been getting frustrated lately. I was made a dormhead a couple weeks ago and I just don’t like it.”
Sandy: “What are you saying you can’t handle the responsibility?”
Devin: “No it’s not that I just… I’m having a hard time I guess and I feel like I have enough to deal with….”
Sandy took over. “So what’s really goin on? Your problems are much deeper than just being a dormhead aren’t they?”
Devin leaned forward.
Luke: “C’mon man I know you’ve been having a hard time lately.”“We’ve talked before so I know we’ve got some of the same issues.” (Luke is a friend of Devin)
Devin didn’t hesitate. “Fuuuuck! FUUUUUUCK! FUUUUCK YOU YOU STUPID FUCKING PIECE OF SHIIIIT!! FUCK THIS BULLSHIT SCHOOL! FUCK BEING A FUCKING DORMHEAD! WHY DO I HAVE TO BE ON MANN’S FUCKING TEAM YOU FUCKING PRICK FUUUUUCK!”
Sandy: “That’s it! What’s really goin on Devin!”
Devin: “I fucking HATE IT HERE! I’M FUCKING STUCK IN THIS STUPID HOLE! YOU STUPID FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT! YOU’LL NEVER HAVE A FUCKING GIRLFRIEND YOU UGLY FUCKING FUCK! FUUUUUUUCK! FUUUUUUUCK YOOOUUU!”
Sandy: “There’s more there Devin! C’mon get….”
Devin: “FUUUUCK! FUUUUCK! I FUCKING HATE YOU! FUUUUCK!”
Sandy: “That’s right! Go for broke Devin!”
Devin: “FUUUUCK YOU YOU STUPID FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT! I HATE YOU FOR SENDING ME HERE YOU STUPID FUCKS! FUUUUCK YOU GOD YOU FUCKING FUCK! I HATE MY PARENTS! I HATE MYSELF YOU FUCK! I CAN’T FUCKING STAND THIS FUCKING PLACE ANYMORE! FUUUUUUCK!” -- “FUUUUUUCK! FUUUUCK YOU! GODAMNIT I FUCKING HATE YOU!”
Just then Julie began screaming as well, her voice a high pitched screeching diminishing his lower toned voice.
Julie: “FUUCK YOU GODAMNIT!”
Sandy: “That’s it Julie what are you saying to yourself right now!”
Julie: “I’M FUCKING PATHETIC! I’M A FUCKING PATHETIC FREAK! I LOOK LIKE A FUCKING MAN! MY HANDS ARE FUCKING HUGE! LOOK AT MY FUCKING HUGE FUCKING HANDS! I’M A DISGUSTING FREAK! FUUUUUUCK YOOOUUUU! FUUUUCK!”
At this point Sandy could barely be heard over the two of them.
Sandy: “You bet Julie! What’s it like to hold that judgement on yourself day after day!”
Julie: “IT FUCKING SUUCKS! WHY THE FUCK DO YOU DO THIS! FUUUCK YOU YOU DIGUSTING FREAK!”
Sandy: “What’s it like to let those judgements control you! What’s it like to live your lie every day!!”
Sandy barely finished the sentence before Julie let out a defening scream.
Julie: “AAAAAAAAA!FUUUUUUUUCK! FUUUUUCK! I HATE YOU! FUUUUUCK!”
Devin’s screams began to subside and Julie was fairly close behind.
“Fuck! Fu-hu-huuuck!”
Sandy: “Yeah.” Sandy said to Julie. “It’s hard to hold those judgements against you all the time isn’t it?”
Julie: “Yes! FuUUCK!”
Sandy: “What’s your truth Julie?”
Julie only responded by crying harder.
Sandy: “You’re thinking about it right now Julie, what is it?”
Julie began crying hard.
Julie: “Innoce-e-ent.”
Sandy: “Yeah. Innocent. You are innocent. How does your truth feel?”
Julie: “It f-feels goo-hood.”
Sandy: “Yeah. It feels good doesn’t it? Why don’t you let that in more? You know your truth yet you choose to ignore it. How about you Devin? What’s your truth?”
Devin: “I’m Honest.” Devin had recouperated somewhat.
Sandy: “Yeah. Honest. Just feel that feeling.
Sandy: What about you Sheila What’s your truth?!”
Sheila was still sitting in the same position…her arms crossed her chest. She said nothing.
Sandy: “You can’t even say it can you? Are you so deep in your lie you can’t even say your truth outloud?”
Sheila made a sour face at that and shook her head slightly.
Sheila: “It’s beautiful.”
Sandy: “Yeah….beautiful. What’s so hard about that. Is that hard to hear? That you’re beautiful?”
Sheila bent foreward and screamed at the top of her lungs.
Sheila: “FUUUUCK YOU YOU FUCKING BITCH! YOU STUPID FUCKING BITCH I FUCKING HAAATE YOOOUUUU!”
Sandy: “That’s exactly right isn’t it Sheila. What have you been holding back on this whole time?!”
Sheila: “I FUCKING HATE YOU YOU PIECE OF FUCKING SHIT! YOU FUCKING BITCH!”
Sandy: “Why is it so hard to hear that you’re beautiful? It must feel pretty bad if you can’t even listen to your truth! Or are living your lie?!”
Sheila: “FUUUCK YOU YOU STUPID BITCH!” Sheila continued on her tyrade. “I FUCKING HATE YOU YOU YOU FUCKING BITCH!.”
Sandy: “Your truth is so far away from you right now. How far away from beautiful are you right now Sheila?!”
Sheila: “FUUUUUUCK YOOOOU! FUUUUU-HUUU-HUUUUCK! YOU STUPID SLUT! YOU GODDAMN BITCH!”
Sandy withheld any comments for a minute while Sheila continued screaming in a rage.
Sandy: “How long were you going to hold onto that? How long were you planning on waiting before you showed us how you really feel?”
Sheila: “FUCK YOU YOU MOTHERFUCKING SLUT! FUUUUUUUCK!”
Sandy: “What are you feeling right now Sheila?”
Sheila: “I’M FUCKING PISSED OFF! GODAMN I’M SOOO FUUUUCKIING PIIISSED!”
Sandy: “Of course your pissed off. There’s a lot for you to be pissed off about. What are you pissed at?”
Sheila: “GODAMN FUUUUCK! I’M PISSED AT FUCKING EVERYTHING!”
Sandy: “Like what?”
Sheila: “I’M PISSED AT FUCKING DISHES, I’M PISSED AT MY TABLE, I’M PISSED I HAVE TO GO INTO EVERY FUCKING RAP AND TALK ABOUT THIS EVERY FUCKING TIME! FUUUUCK!”
Sandy had become quite calm as she spoke to Sheila. “
Sandy: Who are you really pissed at then Sheila?”
Sheila grabbed the hair on top of her head.
Sheila: “FUUUUUUCK! GODAMN FUUUUCKING FUUUUCK!”
Sandy: “C’mon Sheila! You know the answer to this. Who are you really pissed at! Who’s making themself throw up in the bathroom?! Who is it Sheila?!”
Sheila: “FUUUCK I’M PISSED AT MY FUCKING SELF! FUUUCK YOU YOU FUCKING SLUT! YOU FUCKING BITCH!”
Sandy: “Yea. You’re pissed at yourself. What is it like to be so angry with yourself?”
Sheila finally began to cry, her rage having wiped out her energy. She bawled so deeply she could not speak.
Sandy: “It must be hard to be that mad at yourself. Y’know you ARE beautiful you just choose to cover it up. Can you say that about yourself? Can you say I am beautiful?”
Sheila cried harder and pressed her palms over her eyes while facing the floor.
Sheila: “fu-huUCK YOU!”
Sandy: “I am beautiful. You can do it Sheila……. I am beautiful.”
Sheila: “I a-am beautifu-ul.”
Sheila continued crying.
Sandy: “You better believe it! Of course you are.”
The room was quiet and Sheila sat doubled over her lap still weeping.
Sandy: “You just stay in that place for awhile ok? Stay with beautiful.”
Luke: “Can I say something?”
Sandy: “Sure, go ahead Luke.”
Luke: “Umm Devin. I have a lot of the same judgements as you and I just want to say I hope you know you can come talk to me any time man.”
Devin: “Thanks man. I will.”
Sandy: “Ok who’s next.”
The room was silent.
Sandy: “C’mon I know there’s people that have other people to talk to in here.”
Calvin and Brad both raised their hands then quickly pointed at one another as if to say ‘It’s ok you go ahead’.
Sandy: “Pick someone already! Brad!Go!”
Brad breathed a sigh as he got up to switch his seat.
Brad: “Ok this isn’t like a huge deal but Thomas you were like barely working on dinner dishes last night. We asked to get checked off but your section was never complete. I had to help you finish your job so we could go. So I’m just saying it’s cool but next time hopefully you can work a little harder.”
Next to Brad Ellie joined in.
Ellie: “I’ve been on dishes with you the last three nights and you are ALWAYS slacking off. When you sweep and mop you don’t even get all the way under the tables and theres always food left underneath.”
Sandy: “Thomas! Jeez are you kidding me!” Sandy gave Thomas a stern look. “You have been on dishes SO many times I couldn’t even count. Does someone really need to show you how to do your job again?”
Thomas: “No I know how to I just missed some stuff.”
Ellie was quick to comment.
Ellie: “That is total bullshit! You are totally cutting corners on dishes all the time!”
Thomas: “Whaaat are you serious?”
Ellie: “What do you mean am I serious! We were seriously there at least a half hour more because of you.”
Brad: “I agree with Ellie.” Brad again chimed in. “I don’t know about you but I’d rather spend my time in the house. I really don’t see why you’d do a half assed job when you could just do it right and be done.”
Sandy rolled her eyes.
Sandy: “How many times are we gonna go through this Thomas? I’m serious how many times do you have to hear the same feedback over and over and over? I’m getting really tired of hearing this every time I’m in a rap with you. Can you just get it together please so I don’t have to hear this anymore?”
Thomas: “Yes”
Sandy: “Yes I will work harder on dishes!?”
Thomas: “Yes I will work harder on dishes.”
Sandy: “Thank you. I assume you’re on dishes tonight?”
Thomas: “Yes.”
Sandy: “Good.”
Sandy: “Calvin you wanted to go next?”
Calvin: “Yeah Ellie. I heard you and Mandi popping off while you were carrying the trash to the dumpster on dishes last night.”
Marla: “Yea. I catch you guys popping off in the house too.”
Ellie squinted her eyes and looked at Marla.
Ellie: “When did I ever pop off in the house?”
Marla: “Well your not totally popping off but you totally cut corners. I hear you guys humming…..”
Ellie: “Whatever Marla! You are the biggest look good ever! You’re always looking for an excuse to indict someone!”
Calvin then got up and sat next to Ellie.
Calvin: “To tell you the truth this is pissing me off too. You’re always following someone else’s indictment. Why aren’t you ever the first to indict somebody yet you always have something to say.”
Marla: “I really don’t understand how that makes me a look good.”
Julie got up and sat across from Marla.
Julie: “Please. You know you’re a look good. You pull people up for the lamest shit. You even tell the guys to tuck their shirts in more if their just barely hanging over their belts. I just have a hard time believing anything you say because there’s no way you really have a problem with that stuff. You’re just trying to look good…….
An hour and fifteen minutes left to go and yet another rap, in the building just up from the main house, was taking place.
Jessie: “Ok guys there’s something we really need to get to today and that is Stephen. You guys know he’s been on a full time for the last week aaaand he’s there because he decided it was ok to go through the I want to live dirty aaaaand …. Well he wants to share something with you. Why don’t you go ahead Stephen.”
Jessie nodded at Stephen who breathed in a deep breath. Before he could speak five members of his peer group got up to sit across from him.
Stephen: “Ok well you know why I’m on my full-time and….”
Jessie: “I don’t think everyone here has heard why you’re on your full-time. Can you tell them please?”
Stephen again took in a deep breath and rolled his eyes back.
Stephen: “Ok. Before the I Want to Live me and Carol broke the sex agreement and that’s why I’m on my table. But I’ve been working on some really hard stuff for me that I….”
Ryan: “Actually I never really heard about this yet so can you explain what happened a little more?”
Stephen didn’t respond to Ryan right away. He hung his head for a moment.
Stephen: “Ok. Thirteen days ago on Sunday after dinner me and Carol went into the woods and had sex. That’s pretty much it.”
Jessie: “That’s about it? Did you just lie down in the dirt to do it?” Jessie commented, “There’s more to this story lets have it.”
Stephen: “Alright um… I had a jacket and so did Carol and we used them to lie on.”
Ryan: “Actually can you just start from the beginning? Like when did you decide to do this?”
Stephen closed his eyes for a moment in lieu of Ryan’s question.
Stephen: “Ok probably a week before that out in front of the house I told her I liked her and she said she liked me too. For the next week we were kind of flirting but we really didn’t plan anything we just kind of did it. And.. I don’t know that’s pretty much everything that happened.”
Ryan sat back in his chair.
Ryan: “Ok I just haven’t heard yet… so….”
The room was silent for an awkward moment while Stephen stared tensely at the floor.
Jessie: “But that’s not all you have to tell these guys is it?”
Stephen kept staring but knew he couldn’t put off Jessie’s question much longer. His eyes began to glaze over.
Stephen: “W-well you guys know why I’m on my table now and since then I’ve been working on some tough issues aand its not something you guys know about me.”
Stephen leaned his elbows on his knees and tears dripped from his eyes.
Jessie: “Go ahead Stephen. Tell them what you told me.”
Stephen was holding back tears mustering the strength to answer Jessie.
Stephen: “So when I was younger …in like fifth grade…..”
Stephen hung his head back down and sniffled in a noseful of snot.
Aaron: “You know you can tell us anything. We just went through the I Want to live together. Whatever you have to say isn’t going to change what we think of you.”
Nancy: “Yeah. Seriously. You know how much we’ve already been through together.”
Nancy followed Aaron’s statement along with a few others seeking to console him and coax his issues to surface.
Stephen: “So w-when I was in fifth grade me and my friend would w-watch my older sister take showers. Fffffuck…. We did it like five times. There wasn’t a lock on the b-bathroom door. She – fuck-hhhh- she caught us once and I don’t know….. it’s …. I’m not proud of it.”
Long uncomfortable silence
Nancy: “Well I’m glad your being honest and telling us about this. I’m disappointed that you went through the I want to live dirty cuz that really meant a lot to me, but I’m glad to see you’re working on your table.”
Clark quickly chimed in.
Clark: “Well I’m glad um y’know that you’re finally working on yourself and I think it’s good that you’re being honest with us about this, but um I just wish you would have respected all of us in your peer group enough to come out with this in the I want to live, y’know… I mean…..”
Will: “I gotta say I feel the same way I mean we were partners in there. I said a lot of things that were hard for me too and to know you could go through it without coming out with this stuff? I just feel like its hard to trust you.”
Clark again claimed a place to speak after Will.
Clark: “Can I ask you a question? Honestly? Why didn’t you come out with this in the I want to live? I’m just askin cuz it seems to me that would be when you would do that don’t you think?”
There was a brief silence before Jessie spoke again.
Jessie: “He makes a good point don’t you think Stephen? Wasn’t the I want to live the time to tell this to these guys? Why didn’t this come out then?”
Stephen began crying into his palms and sucked in the snot hanging from his nose.
Stephen: “I DON’T FUCKING KNOW OK! I FUCKED UP! IT’S NOT LIKE THE I WANT TO LIVE DIDN’T MEAN ANYTHING!”
Nancy: “How could it mean anything if you go through dirty! How could you get anything from it if you won’t open up and get honest about yourself!”
After Nancy said this Stephen reached down and grabbed his calves.
Stephen: “FUUUUUCK! FUUUUUCK! FUUUU-HUUUUCK YOOO-HOOOUU!”
Jessie: “That’s it. What are you feeling like Stephen.”
Jessie’s voice was stern but quiet.
Stephen: “I’M FUCKING SICK OF MYSELF! I FEEL SO FUCKING DISGUSTING!”
Jessie: “Why disgusting Stephen.”
Stephen: “WHY THE FUCK DO YOU FUCKING THINK YOU FUCK! I WATCHED MY FUCKING SISTER TAKE A FUCKING SHOWER! FUUUCK! FUUUUCK YOOO-HOOOHOOOOU!”
Jessie: “What else are you feeling?”
Stephen: “FUUUUCK!FUUUUUCK!”
Jessie: “C’mon Stephen what do you call yourself for doing that!”
Stephen: “FUUUUCK YOOUU YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE PIECE OF SHIT! FUUUUUCK!”
Jessie: “C’mon Stephen what are you calling yourself right now! What do you think the people around you are saying right now!”
Stephen: “FUUUUUUUUCK! FUUUU-HUUUU-HUUUUCK!”
Jessie: “What is it Stephen?! What’s the word in your head right now!!”
Stephen: “YOU SICK FUCKING FREAK!! I FUCKING HATE YOU YOU SICK FFFUUUUUUCK!”
Jessie: “What does sick fuck feel like! C’mon Stephen you’re right there!”
Stephen: “IT FUUUCKING SUUUCKS! I’M A SIICK FUUCKING FREAK! FUUU-HUUU-HUUUUCK! FUUUUCK YOOOUUU! FUUUUUUUUCK! FUUUUU-HUUUU-HUUUUCKING! GODAMN YOU YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE PIECE OF SHIIIIIT! FUUUUUUUUUCK!”
Jessie: “Feels pretty bad doesn’t it?”
Stephen: “FUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCKK! UUHUU… FFUUUUUUUCCKKHHHUU-HUU….HHFFUCK!”
Stephen could hardly get a breath through his screams. Snot and saliva were streaming from his nose and mouth. Someone next to him pulled a few Kleenex out of the box and threw them on the floor beneath his face.
Stephen: “FUUUUUUCK YOU! FUUUUUUCK! UHHHUUuhhhuu….FHUUHUhuhuck!”
Someone handed Stephen some tissues which he took and mopped his face with. He continued crying.
Jessie: “It’s not easy facing the hard truth.”
For awhile the group was silent as they watched Stephen empty out the last of his pain, rage and sorrow.
Jessie: “Thanks for sharing. You really opened up, you should feel good about that. And I’m sure your peer group is glad you shared with them too.”
Peers: “Yea Stephen.” “Thanks Stephen”. A few people chimed in as Jessie spoke.
Jessie: “Ok guys. We’ve got some time left. Let’s get to whatever else we need to get to. Whoever’s ready just go.”
Isaac got up and sat across from George.
Isaac: “Alright George I seriously don’t want to be rude but you kinda smell. Like I really don’t want to bring it up but… I don’t know you just really need to use more deodorant or something. I seriously… I’m not trying to embarrass you but it’s true. That’s it.”
George lifted his hands up just higher than his head.
George: “Ok man. I’ll wear more deodorant I guess.”
Sandra: “Ummm. I hate to say it but you do kind of stink.” Sandra joined Isaac. “I pass by you sometimes and it’s like serious b.o. and your hair is like super greasy. I’m sorry for saying that but it just… is kinda gross.”
George looked away.
George: “Gimme a fucking break….”
Jamie then addressed Marcus.
Jamie: “You’re in George’s dorm aren’t you? Do you notice anything wrong with George’s hygene?”
Marcus: “Heeeeeeshhhh….yaaaa… I do sometimes.”
Jessie:: “So why aren’t you saying anything?”
Marcus: “I mean I can I…”
Jessie: “Get a voice!”
Marcus got up and sat across from George.
Jessie: “George you should listen to what they’re saying. Your hygene could be better and you don’t put much effort into your appearance. That’s just what I think ok?”
George: “Ok man whatever. I’ll fucking clean myself. It’s fine really you’ve made your point I get it. Can we just please move on?”
Jessie waited a moment and looked around to see if anybody had anything to add.
Jessie: “Ok. Let’s move on.”
Josh: “I have something to say to somebody.” Josh got up and switched seats. “This is to Martin. I heard you telling your story to Michael yesterday and I know pot is part of your story but you guys were TOTALLY war storying together. You were sayin like how you used to get the dankest pot and he was too. I mean you were really sounding like you guys were in your shit.”
Jessie: “Were you talking about it like that Martin?”
Martin tensed up as he tried to answer Jessie.
Martin: “Welllllll….maybe a little bit but really….”
Jessie: “Don’t candy coat it. Were you talking about it like Josh is saying you did?”
Martin took a deep breath.
Martin: “Yeah we were.”
Jessie sat forward leaning his elbows on his knees and shook his head.
Jessie: “Uh- uh. Mm-mm nope. That’s not acceptable. You know your not supposed to do that. Not ok.”
Jessie was still looking Martin shaking his head.
Jessie: “I see you as being really in your shit right now. Your mind’s in the gutter. Not ok.”
Martin: “I don’t really think I’m in my shit. I know I shouldn’t have done that but it was just a mistake kind of.”
Jessie: “No I don’t see that. You’re in your old image, you’re glorifying your drug experiences…. Uh-uh….. that’s totally unacceptable. After this rap come and see me so we can talk about this ok? Let’s move on.”
Jessie: “C’mon guys. Anyone else before we wrap this up?”
Jessie looked around the room until his eyes landed on the boy next to him, Dean, who he stared at with a smirk on his face. Deans eyes widened. Jessie lightly elbowed Dean a couple times.
Jessie: “Hey.” “Hey” “Howr you doin Dean? How have you been since the I want to live?”
Dean: “I’ve been pretty good.”
Jessie: “Yeah? Have you been holding onto some of that stuff?”
Dean: “Yeah I mean I find myself struggling with it but I still feel like I got a lot from it soo yeah.”
Jessie: “How bout the rest of you guys. You still paying attention to those tools?”
Peers: “<yes>(yeah) [me too ya.]” Several voices came in response.
Jessie lead the final stretch of the rap by going around the room one by one giving everyone a chance to say something before letting them go.
Back in the house Mann was finishing up his rap too.
Mann: “Yknow some people did some really great work in here today…. Carol. How’r you feeling right now?”
Carol: “I’m feeling Ok I guess.”
Mann: “You really were listening to your little kid today. What’s her name?”
Carol cracked a small smile.
Carol: “I really hate you.”
Mann: “Oh c’mon what’s your little girls name just say it.”
Carol smiled and put her hand over her mouth.
Carol: “Care Bear.”
Mann just looked at her and smiled.
Mann: “I’m glad you decided to let her come out today.”
Mann continued to stare at her while she kept her hand over her mouth.
Carol: “I’m not supposed to smile.”
Mann chuckled a little when she said this.
Mann: “Yknow what. For the last few minutes before this rap is over can we get a smoosh pile here on the floor. C’mon everybody down, you too Carol.”
Carol: “Does that mean I can be off bans from….”
Mann: “Yeeesss only till the rap is over.”
Carol ran over to smoosh with her friends as did everyone in a happy pile for the next few minutes. Raps were over for today…….
-
I swear I would kill several people if I had to sit through that.
And... I'm not a violent person
-
I was in one facility in 1982 that did this shit. It bored the hell out of me, and three of us got thrown out. We had to beg out way back into the next group so we would still get our levels. The guy was hardest on me, because I had nothing earth shattering to talk about so I did not talk. He thought there had to be something, but what was I going to say, nothing. Drinking and pot oh my! That would not pass a whole hour or ninety minutes.
Another night, while I was there I went through the confrontation thing and kept refusing to cry on demand. They were so pissed. I don't cry much. And even less on demand. Later my individual therapist there was pissed that I had not cried, and said how I thought I was so tough. I said nothing.
Then there was my last m.o. at the last facility I was in (1985-1986), I kept falling asleep from boredom in the middle of RAP. They used to grab me from my seat on the couch and throw me in a hard chair. It did not help. I sleep when I am sleepy. I have fallen asleep on the subway, at conferences, once in a job interview. I keep myself awake with humor and then get called inappropriate. Like I will notice that we are talking in circles and started imagining emoticons going in circles and then chuckle to myself (INAPPROPRIATE). Then I have to work harder at containing my chuckling.
Unfortunately, I am back in Houston where all this shit began and I feel the misery all over again. My parents live 3 blocks away and love to control me at the age of 44. I still feel like a victim. I need to leave here but don't know where to go. I am at a loss. Shit now I am depressed again. I now know why I found this board, I am back to where I started. DAMNIT
-
I was in one facility in 1982 that did this shit. It bored the hell out of me, and three of us got thrown out. We had to beg out way back into the next group so we would still get our levels. The guy was hardest on me, because I had nothing earth shattering to talk about so I did not talk. He thought there had to be something, but what was I going to say, nothing. Drinking and pot oh my! That would not pass a whole hour or ninety minutes.
Another night, while I was there I went through the confrontation thing and kept refusing to cry on demand. They were so pissed. I don't cry much. And even less on demand. Later my individual therapist there was pissed that I had not cried, and said how I thought I was so tough. I said nothing.
Then there was my last m.o. at the last facility I was in (1985-1986), I kept falling asleep from boredom in the middle of RAP. They used to grab me from my seat on the couch and throw me in a hard chair. It did not help. I sleep when I am sleepy. I have fallen asleep on the subway, at conferences, once in a job interview. I keep myself awake with humor and then get called inappropriate. Like I will notice that we are talking in circles and started imagining emoticons going in circles and then chuckle to myself (INAPPROPRIATE). Then I have to work harder at containing my chuckling.
Unfortunately, I am back in Houston where all this shit began and I feel the misery all over again. My parents live 3 blocks away and love to control me at the age of 44. I still feel like a victim. I need to leave here but don't know where to go. I am at a loss. Shit now I am depressed again. I now know why I found this board, I am back to where I started. DAMNIT
i know this is easier said than done, but you have got to get the fuck out of there. i understand, i just 2 months ago moved out of state and am really counting on the kindness of strangers. but it feels good, in some ways to be out of the reach of my insane family...at the same time it's scary as fuck. but at least it's something different.
if you know anybody in a different state, or at least a different part of TX, start there. hell if you want to come to portland i'll try to help you out. the northwest is amazing. jobs are a bitch but ... pm me if you want to talk more about it.
-
That's really excellently done, that's a very good telling of the experience. You should format it as a text with line and paragraph breaks and publish it on this site or on the web. I'll post a few more excerpts at my blog entry, and credit you (or your alias), and link back here.
http://liamscheff.com/daily/2008/08/22/ ... anon-game/ (http://liamscheff.com/daily/2008/08/22/cedu-documentary-cedu-raps-and-the-synanon-game/)
The reality that you are getting at so clearly is that we were meant to loudly debase, humiliate and really excoriate ourselves quite publicly, week after week, day after day, for a number of years in these programs. I can reflect that it took me several years to stop being so very forthcoming (what Cedu called "honest") with people I did not know.
I am a terribly honest person by nature, almost transparently so at times - the impetus and encouragement to be biliously honest, to forgo all screening of material, to find the most denigrating, awful idea that might be passing through my thoughts, and to choose that for public broadcast? Just a kind of regular suicide and torture. They taught us to beat ourselves; that was the operational aspect of controlling our will -
Why else did we all not foment rebellion? Fear of authority, most certainly - but this purging cycle, this self-villainization/victimization and self-torture cycle - what mental room does it leave for defiance?
I personally remember being hung up on a peg and beaten like a pinanta every time I offered resistance to some aspect of the program. I was always somewhat-to-quite rebellious and critical-thinking/analytical by nature; under stress I become quite argumentative - it would've been typified as 'contrarian,' and 'attention-seeking' at Cedu. But I think it was my personal impulse to critical thinking trying to come to the surface, having been drowned in a sea of bullshit - that is, the absolute insanity that were the ten thousand unwritten rules of Cedu, coupled with the chronic drive to the raps to purge oneself of all impulse.
As is made clear by the Synanon writing, this was the purpose of the program - the create identity schisms. To split and divide a person from their impulses - we might say, to 'brainwash.' Why? Because these were heroin addicts, and the program grew organically out of a brutal and short method by which a massive psychological calamity could be created and imposed on these addicts; a great drama is created that acts to sideline them from their chronic condition.
What effect did it have on the slightly depressed, often neglected, often abused but quite middle and upper economic class children who got sent to these programs, by their often narcissistic, often alcohol and drug-abusing parents?
It certainly produced trauma. Where it seemed to give catharsis, I'd say it was a fleeting, momentary one, followed by a re-flooding of these 'negative' impulses - some of which were negative self-identities, such as those developed in childhood among neglected and abused children. Other 'negative thoughts' we were meant to purge in the process described in your writing - the true callings of our most certain and private selves -
The desire to run away, the desire to be with family, to have a caring family, to be with real friends, to have sex (to be allowed to be sexually appropriate for our age and development), the desire to hit someone (a staff member) who is cruelly and invasively provoking you with secrets you've given up in other Cedu experiences -
These are normal, understandable impulses - and all of these were given up, flushed out, chronically, weekly, daily - in these raps, in 'dirt lists,' like so much pus from a wound.
I should say, this is how it was for me, certainly.
After the Cedu experience, I discovered that regular or normative "talk-therapy," as is conducted by psychologists and psychiatrists, while varying greatly in style and quality, never resembles this psychological stone-and-acid washing such that we received and re-enacted at Cedu. True talk therapy was quite pleasant by comparison; it was calm, allowed understanding, subtle gain of insight according to what the mind, soul and spirit will accommodate at at time; the hammer is put away, and my own actual impulses, deeper thoughts, feelings both hidden and apparent, were able to find a subtler, and entirely more useful and liberating expression.
I was also amazed and grateful to find that actual psychologists - at least the good ones - have in mind the normal and studied course of childhood and adolescent development, and in discussion, have a framework in mind that is reflective of a studied, observed reality - the organic reality of human beings in healthy and compromised development - and that this understanding acts as a guide, as markings on a highway, and as a basis for contrast and comparison - which they can share with you to help illuminate self-growth, understanding, forgiveness, rightful anger, and all the rest.
A final thought here - the 'running of anger' was always so silly, because what I really wanted to do, when I was truly angry, was hit something. And when I got out of Cedu, and I got the Cedu out of me, that's just what I did. Going to martial arts - a very direct and not very 'artful version' - was probably the best thing I ever did in my life, in terms of channeling, understanding and productively using anger, or really, just a desire to know how to use my body, to fight if necessary, to train in fighting enough so as to understand my strengths, weaknesses, and limits.
Why did Cedu forbid all martial arts training? Imagine a school where they torture you like that, but also train you to fight for yourself? We'd have overthrown our adult masters, if they'd let us access that part of ourselves.
-
Reading it through, it's really excellent, very good. I've reposted the second half at my blog as well in the Synanon-Cedu thread:
http://liamscheff.com/daily/2008/08/22/ ... mment-8325 (http://liamscheff.com/daily/2008/08/22/cedu-documentary-cedu-raps-and-the-synanon-game/#comment-8325)
If you'd like more (or less) credit or exposure, let me know. But this is very skilled, well-remembered and carefully and clearly told - I'd like to ask you to write me at my standard email [ liamscheff [at] yahoo.com ]. As I consider putting together a book, or interview text, I'd like to talk w/you about including this.
This and a couple other pieces at fornits really keep coming back to me. There's Son of Serbia's re-telling of a confrontation with adult male staff - Mr. Bentz and Bonanno, I believe - in the Discovery family room. I've written him, but don't think I've been able to persuade him to really write me back...
In any case, this is really excellent. Please drop me a line.
-
Liam
Very well said.
It occurred to me yesterday how ridiculous CEDU staff's attempts were to 'get us in touch with our feelings' were. So contrived. Such amateur CEDU bullshit. Scam-a-rifficly laughable.
It occurred to me yesterday when a friend of mine asked me to look at an old classmate's (from the 8th grade) profile on facebook. Until yesterday I've spent a total of 5 minutes on facebook. When I looked at this person's list of friends I went into a complete tailspin.
I saw dozens of names.
Dozens of faces.
From 20 years ago.
All school peers I haven't seen or communicated with in over 2 decades.
This brought up many, many bad memories and feelings from that time in my life, that I'd shelved and forgot were there.
These names and faces stared back at me and reminded me of the chaos I endured due to negligent parenting the 3 years preceding my arrival to RMA.
These peers, individually and collectively, represented a benchmark of "normalcy" that I could never achieve. I convinced myself they knew nothing and never would experience the mayhem that existed within my family.
A few years goes by, I'm ambushed at 4am and transported to Bonners Ferry. On a 2nd or 3rd home visit a friend tells me of all the rumors and gossip surronding my 'disappearance'. I graduate from RMA, move to another to another state and graduate from University.
1 year goes by.
5 years goes by.
Decades go by.
Without seeing these schoolmates again.
Instead of helping me with the legitimate issues I needed to work on, I was, as Liam says, battered like a Pinata for taking 6 minute showers.
Forced to sit there in fear of being indictied.
Forced to sit there and fear the consequences of not getting the program.
Forced to sit there and vicously and baselessly attack your peers to keep the heat off of yourself.
And all the while - forced to listen to hours, days, months worth of insipid, mindfucking and agitating rap crapola.
I'd like to go back in time and bitch slap every RMA staff for their ineptitude and blatant cultish wrongdoings.
I'd like to kick Mel Wasserman in the nuts until he admits he's an egotistical & greedy tyrant and agrees to right his wrongs.
Thanks for wasting my time, my family's hard earned money, and adding a genorous helping of mindfuckery to my already teeming buffet of family issues nutritionally void of Vitamin N(ormal) and F(un).
-
Another memory -
The sex aspect now coming into memory like an angry ghost! I don't know if you were writing from an RMA experience, because actually having sex at Cedu CA meant you weren't coming back, at least during the late 80s/early 90s. They didn't play lightly with that - it was so much of their control mechanism - the purgation of our hormones.
I absolutely remember with painful clarity of feeling - that sex was considered the dirtiest, most self-debasing activity you could permit yourself to do - that it came out of "thinking"; that it was not healthy or normal - that the impulse to normal, age-appropriate sexual experience was disgraceful and really quite sinful, and that it had to be shared publicly in the raps, and purged.
That was absolutely imperative to their control of our behavior.
Man, that one really gets me to this day. There are girls I think I love to this day, in some way, trapped in memory, who I've never gotten to simply say that to them, that I was crazy about them, or just really liked them. Well.... I'll write a couple of letters:
"Dear so-and-so,
How are you? Yes, that's right, we went to crazy camp together, 10 million years ago. So, listen, I just wanted to tell you what I never got to say: I was just so moved by you in highschool, but never got to say so because of the nazi camp counselors and their insanity-making rules. But the truth is, I thought you were truly lovely and even wonderfully, terribly beautiful at times, and funny, and charming, and sweet, and I wish I'd gotten to tell you then. What for? Who knows.
No, it wouldn't have worked out! No, we wouldn't have gotten married, or probably even have gone out for long, if we did. I'm not much of a 'dater.' But still, your presence often got me through difficult days, and your effortless Ariadne-like beauty inspired many poetic thoughts...
And some you might find not so poetical, and typically male, and probably pretty gross. My apologies. (What are you gonna do? Men. We're animals.)
Hope you're doing well, very best wishes.
Your friend from 1,000 years ago, in a situation under duress."
There you go. For the record. You know who you are. If you don't, well. Write me, and I'll send you this letter.
-
Mr. DD Fugitive,
well, that's right - it was a remarkable waste of our time. I mean, really, it was a program inappropriately applied to relatively normal, slightly-depressed and often somewhat to highly neglected and abused kids. And yet, it's our experience... so what will we do with it? (Tell the stories, I hope.)
But today, for these kids like we were, a little counseling, and for better or for worse, a few pills, and you'd be mainstreamed down the normal highschool highway. We were really just a few years early for the mainstreaming of a psychological nanny-state, baby-stepping us through our development and providing many pharmaceuticals for our angst.
I'm not a big fan of the pharma-biz myself - but a little prozac and talk therapy would've been better for most Cedu kids than a headful of Rudy Bentz or Mel Wasserman, I'd bet.
I think that by telling our stories, clearly, in name, we help to paint a clearer picture of this period of history, and maybe will give some evidence to the fact that truly communist-style brainwashing doesn't just happen in China or under Lenin and Stalin.
you know?
-
The sex aspect now coming into memory like an angry ghost! I don't know if you were writing from an RMA experience, because actually having sex at Cedu CA meant you weren't coming back, at least during the late 80s/early 90s. They didn't play lightly with that - it was so much of their control mechanism - the purgation of our hormones.
I absolutely remember with painful clarity of feeling - that sex was considered the dirtiest, most self-debasing activity you could permit yourself to do - that it came out of "thinking"; that it was not healthy or normal - that the impulse to normal, age-appropriate sexual experience was disgraceful and really quite sinful, and that it had to be shared publicly in the raps, and purged.
[/i]
There were four cases of the sex agreement being broken that I remember when I went to Cedu. 2 of those cases I remember in partcular. 1 of the 4 was sent to Ascent never to return and the other 3 were put on full-times. Times must have changed a bit during the periods we attended b/c as I recall staff foamed at the mouth drooling over the opportunity to make a public example of those who broke the sex agreement. I'm surprised to hear you say if you broke the sex agreement "you were not coming back." (What do you mean by that? Did they go to Ascent and/or another program?) The Cedu I remember really took advantage of such a situation to make a point to everyone else. Not only do I remember how brutally those people got it in raps, but everyone seemed to get reprimanded. I particularly remember *a staff* yelling till she was red in the face at every guy in a rap addressing us as though guys were 100% responsible for initiating sex every time. Just because two people broke the agreement ALL the guys got battered. She blew up on us saying .."Don't even think of touching my girls." As well she would project her issues with abortions onto us, which was very uncomfortable and of course there was no defensive measure you could take. I, like most, never broke the sex agreement there yet I recall having to sit there and be talked to as though I did.
*I don't know what my deal is but I feel like if I mention a staff's name they will come to haunt me or something.*
On that note Liam, Mann is NOT Rudy Bentz.
" For many years I asked members of T-groups (group therapy) to engage in a "top secret" task in which they were asked to write, anonymously, on a slip of paper the one thing they would be most disinclined to share with the group. The secrets seem to be startlingly similar, with a couple of major themes predominating. The most common secret is a deep conviction of basic inadequacy- a feeling that one is basically incompetent, that one bluffs one's way through life. Next in frequency is a deep sense of interpersonal alienation- that, despite appearances, one really does not, or cannot, care for or love another person. The third most frequent category is some variety of sexual secret." - 'The Theory and Practice of Group Psychotherapy' by Irvin D. Yalom
Anyone remember getting asked, "What's the one thing you just can't tell anybody?"
-
The sex aspect now coming into memory like an angry ghost! I don't know if you were writing from an RMA experience, because actually having sex at Cedu CA meant you weren't coming back, at least during the late 80s/early 90s. They didn't play lightly with that - it was so much of their control mechanism - the purgation of our hormones.
I absolutely remember with painful clarity of feeling - that sex was considered the dirtiest, most self-debasing activity you could permit yourself to do - that it came out of "thinking"; that it was not healthy or normal - that the impulse to normal, age-appropriate sexual experience was disgraceful and really quite sinful, and that it had to be shared publicly in the raps, and purged.
[/i]
There were four cases of the sex agreement being broken that I remember when I went to Cedu. 2 of those cases I remember in partcular. 1 of the 4 was sent to Ascent never to return and the other 3 were put on full-times. Times must have changed a bit during the periods we attended b/c as I recall staff foamed at the mouth drooling over the opportunity to make a public example of those who broke the sex agreement. I'm surprised to hear you say if you broke the sex agreement "you were not coming back." (What do you mean by that? Did they go to Ascent and/or another program?) The Cedu I remember really took advantage of such a situation to make a point to everyone else. Not only do I remember how brutally those people got it in raps, but everyone seemed to get reprimanded. I particularly remember *a staff* yelling till she was red in the face at every guy in a rap addressing us as though guys were 100% responsible for initiating sex every time. Just because two people broke the agreement ALL the guys got battered. She blew up on us saying .."Don't even think of touching my girls." As well she would project her issues with abortions onto us, which was very uncomfortable and of course there was no defensive measure you could take. I, like most, never broke the sex agreement there yet I recall having to sit there and be talked to as though I did.
*I don't know what my deal is but I feel like if I mention a staff's name they will come to haunt me or something.*
On that note Liam, Mann is NOT Rudy Bentz.
" For many years I asked members of T-groups (group therapy) to engage in a "top secret" task in which they were asked to write, anonymously, on a slip of paper the one thing they would be most disinclined to share with the group. The secrets seem to be startlingly similar, with a couple of major themes predominating. The most common secret is a deep conviction of basic inadequacy- a feeling that one is basically incompetent, that one bluffs one's way through life. Next in frequency is a deep sense of interpersonal alienation- that, despite appearances, one really does not, or cannot, care for or love another person. The third most frequent category is some variety of sexual secret." - 'The Theory and Practice of Group Psychotherapy' by Irvin D. Yalom
Anyone remember getting asked, "What's the one thing you just can't tell anybody?"
I do know exactly which female staffer you're talking about with the abortion issues, Awake.
I wish some people had just kept their mouths shut about some really sick stuff noone needed to know. Nobody's fault - the filters were all stripped away. It never put my friendships with them into doubt, but I never knew quite how to handle it.
In one of my first raps, a girl got reemed by someone in her dorm about excessive pubic hair shedding that clogged the shower drain. This poor girl was so humiliated and I felt so bad for her, but I didn't have the courage to stick up for her and tell the bitch off. Of course, I sort of picked up on the fact that taking her side against the indicter wasn't the way things were done around Cedu.
-
Isn' t that what all this is? just another rap session on the internet, people running their anger and what not...
Perhaps some would call this human conversation, but whatever
-
THE RAP CONTINUED.........
... Raps were over for today…….
whoa!
Great job!
-
The sex aspect now coming into memory like an angry ghost! I don't know if you were writing from an RMA experience, because actually having sex at Cedu CA meant you weren't coming back, at least during the late 80s/early 90s. They didn't play lightly with that - it was so much of their control mechanism - the purgation of our hormones.
I absolutely remember with painful clarity of feeling - that sex was considered the dirtiest, most self-debasing activity you could permit yourself to do - that it came out of "thinking"; that it was not healthy or normal - that the impulse to normal, age-appropriate sexual experience was disgraceful and really quite sinful, and that it had to be shared publicly in the raps, and purged.
[/i]
There were four cases of the sex agreement being broken that I remember when I went to Cedu. 2 of those cases I remember in partcular. 1 of the 4 was sent to Ascent never to return and the other 3 were put on full-times. Times must have changed a bit during the periods we attended b/c as I recall staff foamed at the mouth drooling over the opportunity to make a public example of those who broke the sex agreement. I'm surprised to hear you say if you broke the sex agreement "you were not coming back." (What do you mean by that? Did they go to Ascent and/or another program?) The Cedu I remember really took advantage of such a situation to make a point to everyone else. Not only do I remember how brutally those people got it in raps, but everyone seemed to get reprimanded. I particularly remember *a staff* yelling till she was red in the face at every guy in a rap addressing us as though guys were 100% responsible for initiating sex every time. Just because two people broke the agreement ALL the guys got battered. She blew up on us saying .."Don't even think of touching my girls." As well she would project her issues with abortions onto us, which was very uncomfortable and of course there was no defensive measure you could take. I, like most, never broke the sex agreement there yet I recall having to sit there and be talked to as though I did.
*I don't know what my deal is but I feel like if I mention a staff's name they will come to haunt me or something.*
On that note Liam, Mann is NOT Rudy Bentz.
" For many years I asked members of T-groups (group therapy) to engage in a "top secret" task in which they were asked to write, anonymously, on a slip of paper the one thing they would be most disinclined to share with the group. The secrets seem to be startlingly similar, with a couple of major themes predominating. The most common secret is a deep conviction of basic inadequacy- a feeling that one is basically incompetent, that one bluffs one's way through life. Next in frequency is a deep sense of interpersonal alienation- that, despite appearances, one really does not, or cannot, care for or love another person. The third most frequent category is some variety of sexual secret." - 'The Theory and Practice of Group Psychotherapy' by Irvin D. Yalom
Anyone remember getting asked, "What's the one thing you just can't tell anybody?"
I do know exactly which female staffer you're talking about with the abortion issues, Awake.
I wish some people had just kept their mouths shut about some really sick stuff noone needed to know. Nobody's fault - the filters were all stripped away. It never put my friendships with them into doubt, but I never knew quite how to handle it.
In one of my first raps, a girl got reemed by someone in her dorm about excessive pubic hair shedding that clogged the shower drain. This poor girl was so humiliated and I felt so bad for her, but I didn't have the courage to stick up for her and tell the bitch off. Of course, I sort of picked up on the fact that taking her side against the indicter wasn't the way things were done around Cedu.
Alright, I don't know why I still have fear for saying the names of the staff I was portraying. I actually feel a bit pathetic for still feeling scared of saying the names of those people that made me feel so afraid. Mann = Guy Bonano, Sandy = Bradi Elliot, and Jessie = Jamie ? (don't know last name). I let Pam Abell get away with a "rap pass" this time but she had her moments.
Also, I thought I'd say a few words about "honesty". This word was perhaps the most powerfully re-defined word at Cedu. It really meant, "disregard your boudaries". To be honest meant to give up all your deepest secrets, publicly betray yourself, and openly opinionate on others behaviors no matter how personal the topic. I don't hold it against anyone (except staff, b/c I think they did it to set an example) for not being able to know whether or not they crossed this line. However I was not prepared to handle all of that. And concerning my portrayal of "the rap" I STILL had to hold back on some of the atrocities that I remember there. The lack of ethical/therapeutic boundaries there is absolutely mindblowing to me.
Robert Jay Lifton was one of the early psychologists to study brainwashing and mind control. He called the method used thought reform. From an analysis of two French priests who had been subjected to brainwashing, he identified the following processes used on them:
Assault on identity
Aspects of self-identity are systematically attacked. For example the priests were told that they were not real Fathers. This has a serious destabilizing effect as people lose a sense of who they are. Losing the self also leads to weakening of beliefs and values, which are then easier to change.
Guilt
Constant arguments that cast the person as guilty of any kind of wrong-doing leads them to eventually feel shame about most things and even feel that they deserve punishment. This is another piece of the jigsaw puzzle of breakdown.
Self-betrayal
When the person is forced to denounce friends and family, it both destroys their sense of identity and reinforces feelings of guilt. This helps to separates them from their past, building the ground for a new personality to be built.
Breaking point
The constant assault on identity, guilt and self-betrayal eventually leads to them breaking down, much as the manner of the 'nervous breakdown' that people experience for other reasons. They may cry inconsolably, have convulsive fits and fall into deep depression. Psychologically, they may effectively be losing a sense of who they are and hence fearing total annihilation of the self.
Leniency
Just at the point when the person is fearing annihilation of the self, they are offered a small kindness, a brief respite from the assault on their identity, a cigarette or a drink. In those moments of light amongst the darkness, they may well feel a deep sense of gratitude, even though it is their torturer who is offering the 'kindness'. This is another form of Hurt and Rescue, albeit extreme.
The compulsion to confess
Having being pulled back from the edge of breakdown, they are then faced with the contrast of the hurt of potential further identity assault against the rescue of leniency. They may also feel the obligation of exchange in a need to repay the kindness of leniency. There also may be exposed to them the opportunity to assuage themselves of their guilt through confession.
The channeling of guilt
The overwhelming sense of guilty and shame that the person is feeling will be so confused by the multiple accusations and assaults on their identity, that the person will lose the sense of what, specifically, they are guilty of, and just feel the heavy burden of being wrong.
This confusion allows the captors to redirect the guilt towards what ever they please, which will typically be having lived a life of wrong and bad action due to living under an ideology which itself is wrong and bad.
Reeducation: logical dishonoring
The notion that the root cause of their guilt is an externally imposed ideology is a straw at which the confused and exhausted person grasps. If they were taught wrongly, then it is their teachers and the ideology that is more at fault. Thus to assuage their guilt, further confession about all acts under the ideology are brought out. By mentally throwing away these acts (in the act of confession) they also are now completing the act of rejecting the whole ideology.
Progress and harmony
The rejection of the old ideology leaves a vacuum into which the new ideology can be introduced. As the antithesis of the old ideology, it forms a perfect attraction point as the person flees the old in search of a contrasting replacement.
This progress is accelerated as the new ideology is portrayed as harmonious and ideally suited to the person's needs. Collegiality and calm replaces pain and punishment. The captors thus contrast in visible and visceral ways how wonderful the new ideology is as compared to the sins and the pain of the old ideology.
Final confession and rebirth
Faced with the stark contrast of the pain of the past with the rosy glow of the future that the new ideology presents, the person sheds any the final allegiance to the old ideology, confessing any remaining deep secrets, and takes on the full mantle of the new ideology.
This often feels, and has been described by many, as a form of rebirth. It may be accompanied by rites of passage as the person is accepted and cemented into the new order. The rituals will typically include strong statements made by the person about accepting the new ideology fully and completely, swearing allegiance to its leaders. Saluting flags, kissing other artefacts and other symbolic acts, all solemnly performed, all anchor them firmly in the new ground.
See also
Robert Jay Lifton, Thought Reform and the Psychology of Totalism, W.W. Norton & Co., Inc., 1963.
Conversion techniques
• Breaking sessions: that pressure a person until they crack.
• Changing values: to change what is right and wrong.
• Confession: to leave behind the undesirable past.
• Entrancement: open the mind and limit rational reflection.
• Engagement: that draws a person in.
• Exhaustion: so they are less able to resist persuasion.
• Guilt: about the past that they can leave behind.
• Higher purpose: associate desirability with a higher purpose.
• Identity destruction: to make space for the new identity.
• Information control: that blocks out dissuading thoughts.
• Incremental conversion: shifting the person one step at a time.
• Isolation: separating people from dissuasive messages.
• Love Bomb: to hook in the lonely and vulnerable.
• Persistence: never giving up, wearing you down.
• Special language: that offers the allure of power and new meaning.
• Thought-stopping: block out distracting or dissuading thoughts.
http://cafety.org/index.php?option=com_ ... &Itemid=35 (http://cafety.org/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=216&Itemid=35)
If anyone thinks that these methods were not used against students at Cedu please comment.
-
Well said.
Espicially your comments on "honesty"
To this day I still can't stand to listen to anyone who tries to soapbox about 'values'. Not even for a second.
The ironic part is - people who actually have respectable values - well, they don't talk about values, instead they organically abide by them and don't engage in nauseating, 'LGAT style; self promotion.
You can't buy values. Not in 15 Oprah segment, not during a weekend seminar -Not in a self help book.
Hell, I'd have probably been a diehard Oprah or Dr. Phil fan had I not detoured into the realm of cedu as a kid.
-
reposting some of this, the Lifton stuff, on my cedu pages:
http://liamscheff.com/daily/2008/08/22/ ... mment-8591 (http://liamscheff.com/daily/2008/08/22/cedu-documentary-cedu-raps-and-the-synanon-game/#comment-8591)
-
OP: tl;dr
-
Another memory -
The sex aspect now coming into memory like an angry ghost! I don't know if you were writing from an RMA experience, because actually having sex at Cedu CA meant you weren't coming back, at least during the late 80s/early 90s. They didn't play lightly with that - it was so much of their control mechanism - the purgation of our hormones.
I absolutely remember with painful clarity of feeling - that sex was considered the dirtiest, most self-debasing activity you could permit yourself to do - that it came out of "thinking"; that it was not healthy or normal - that the impulse to normal, age-appropriate sexual experience was disgraceful and really quite sinful, and that it had to be shared publicly in the raps, and purged.
That was absolutely imperative to their control of our behavior.
Man, that one really gets me to this day. There are girls I think I love to this day, in some way, trapped in memory, who I've never gotten to simply say that to them, that I was crazy about them, or just really liked them. Well.... I'll write a couple of letters:
"Dear so-and-so,
How are you? Yes, that's right, we went to crazy camp together, 10 million years ago. So, listen, I just wanted to tell you what I never got to say: I was just so moved by you in highschool, but never got to say so because of the nazi camp counselors and their insanity-making rules. But the truth is, I thought you were truly lovely and even wonderfully, terribly beautiful at times, and funny, and charming, and sweet, and I wish I'd gotten to tell you then. What for? Who knows.
No, it wouldn't have worked out! No, we wouldn't have gotten married, or probably even have gone out for long, if we did. I'm not much of a 'dater.' But still, your presence often got me through difficult days, and your effortless Ariadne-like beauty inspired many poetic thoughts...
And some you might find not so poetical, and typically male, and probably pretty gross. My apologies. (What are you gonna do? Men. We're animals.)
Hope you're doing well, very best wishes.
Your friend from 1,000 years ago, in a situation under duress."
There you go. For the record. You know who you are. If you don't, well. Write me, and I'll send you this letter.
-
wow! i am glued to your words liam!!
-
Reading it through, it's really excellent, very good. I've reposted the second half at my blog as well in the Synanon-Cedu thread:
http://liamscheff.com/daily/2008/08/22/ ... mment-8325 (http://liamscheff.com/daily/2008/08/22/cedu-documentary-cedu-raps-and-the-synanon-game/#comment-8325)
If you'd like more (or less) credit or exposure, let me know. But this is very skilled, well-remembered and carefully and clearly told - I'd like to ask you to write me at my standard email [ liamscheff [at] yahoo.com ]. As I consider putting together a book, or interview text, I'd like to talk w/you about including this.
This and a couple other pieces at fornits really keep coming back to me. There's Son of Serbia's re-telling of a confrontation with adult male staff - Mr. Bentz and Bonanno, I believe - in the Discovery family room. I've written him, but don't think I've been able to persuade him to really write me back...
In any case, this is really excellent. Please drop me a line.
Liam I'm sorry I called you an asshole. I'm sorry I called Liam an asshole. I was concerned that Liam was not doing what he said he would do, and I was wrong. I don't know him, but I now trust him. Great job on your interview project, Liam! They're convincing and real without melodrama. Thanks for doing the work.