My first rap had been in Walden West two days before. Tessa Wateratt was the "facilitator". I can't remember who was supporting facilitator in that rap because the whole thing was so apocalyptic, anything besides it's own happening would be unmemorable by comparison. I didn't know what I was in store for as I was escorted from the house by Ken, who steered me down a path with a rock border, and past a few other buildings. We came to Walden and were directed into the room. This room has so much significance for me that just crossing its threshold in my imagination causes unspeakable feelings. All of my propheets and workshops were in Walden and it is fitting that my first step into behavior modification happened in that room.
There was a circle of black chairs interrupted by one upholstered blue one with arm rests. Nobody went near that one. I sat down and listened to my heart throb in my ears. I didn't know what to be nervous about, but after numerous kids asked me during lunch if this was my first rap and then their replies of "holy shit, who's running it?" or "Ha Ha, won't that be nice!" I started to become a little nervous on the walk over with Ken. There were many other people moving to their assigned rooms and it was quiet, a definite sense of foreboding pervaded. I didn't know how to identify it yet- something that I got a strong whiff of as we sat down in our black chairs that afternoon in Walden West: fear.
Tessa sat down in the upholstered chair next to Ken, two down from me. The room went completely silent. She said to the group that this was my first rap and would someone please inform me of the agreements. A boy with terrible acne (not as bad as the acne I was soon to get) quickly chimed the first "agreement":
"What is said in a rap stays in a rap."
Ok. I don't think I'm getting this. What's a rap? Tessa thankfully translated:
"XXXX, a lot of people are going to be sharing things about themselves that are very private. When one says something in a rap we discuss it in raps but to keep the environment "healthy" we don't need to bring it up in conversation outside of the raps up in the house or down at the wood corral. Raps are safe and one of the most important ways we ensure this safety, is with that agreement."
Her translation helped some, but the overall feeling inside the room was that it had been flooded with childhood nightmares made real. I looked around the room at a girl I thought pretty, she shared the next agreement.
"Don't say anything people can't change." A very timid voice.
At Tessa's request the girl continued to explain that commenting on physical appearances was ok- like if someone seemed sloppy, comments about that would be acceptable, whereas comments about the size of ones nose or comments about race were discouraged. I was asked if I understood this, and still being as diplomatic as my second day status allowed me, I commented that I understood the need for this "specification" in it's entirety and thought that the agreement made good sense. I received a quixotic glance from several for this. I stored the faces for good measure because I didn't know what this place was all about yet.
There was a little pause as the next regulation was supposed to be inserted into the conversation, instead the person next to me on my left stood quietly up and switched chairs with a person on the opposite side of the circle. The person who was now sitting to my left was getting settled and the person who had moved across the circle spoke to me.
"We get up and move when we want to indict somebody, that way we won't be spitting in their faces."
I had already noticed this kid. He had a little leather holster on his hip for his cigarettes and a lighter. His shirt was tucked in so deeply that it pulled his shoulders forward. He was about as thin as a cane and crooked over a bit like he might need one. Roan looked like a warped board, or driftwood, I was thinking.
Tessa made me knowledgeable about the significance of this posturing and business of switching chairs by "pretending" to scream at Ken. I jumped about three feet out of my seat. It was totally unexpected, she yelled FUCK YOU at the top of her lungs about four feet from my cochlea. I hated getting yelled at at home. There had been so many screaming matches with my mother and father. I rarely placed better than third in these verbal vocal struggles, and the displays of disappointment and anger always reduced me to either tears, fight, or flight. I suddenly felt like that again. The points had been taken: move across the room, tuck in your shirt, don't talk about The Doors, don't hit or punch, or carve on yourself, chew gum, call the agreements rules, run away, talk back, or complain. I was starting to understand real good…this was a joke? An elaborate act…ok, I'll bite, what's in the next act.
Tessa fidgeted with a piece of paper in her hand purposefully. Wildly, she then fidgeted with her watch and shoelaces. I sensed her actual excitement as she quickly went through the next two agreements.
"No rap toys"
Ken explained the recent display by Tessa. There were to be no distractions from the work we would be doing, and that there were to be five feet on the floor at all times. An opposite of Carolyn Volch, who could be seen coming at you from 200 meters, and easily identified by blonde hair and the direct, sheer, predatory manner of her stride, Tessa Wateratt walked with a bounce and reminded me of a brunette mop, one that had a slinky for a handle. Demonstrations were made of what it meant to have five "feet" on the floor. Tessa tried to push her chair back on two legs but she just didn't have enough bulk. Essentially, there was to be no tipping of the chair and you were not supposed to curl up into it either. I learned over time that this agreement could be invoked at any time but was largely ignored. It was another good indicator of how a staff felt about you if you got "pulled up" for hiding in your chair. By the same standard, it would be pretty "needsy" if an older student pulled you up for it. Those black chairs endured so much through their years I wonder if telling the story from their point of view could be any easier.
