As near as I can recall I entered the Seed right before my 14 birthday (Oct 1974). I remember this because as a newcomer, sitting in the front row, Robert Chunn said something to the effect that "did I think I was looking older that day." It was my birthday and I thought someone actually was saying something nice to me (let alone someone knowing my birthday). As he had me stand up when he talked to me, I soon realized as hands flew up, what he was really saying was that I thought I was trying to be cool and look older than my age. That was pretty much my first memory, getting chastised by the entire group for something in which I had no clue about.
As you can guess I was one of those who really should have never been there. Let me try a give you a little bit about what brought me there. First, my mother who was much older than most kids my age grandparents. She divorced my alcoholic father when I was 7 and had to work to support my bother and I. As a child I never remember playing with my mom, really talking to her or anything that would resemble a normal childhood. My brother and I were always made to think that we were bad and different. We were constantly compared to our perfect cousins or other children. My mother never, ever believed me. I NEVER, I repeat NEVER took any kind of drugs before the Seed. Was I an out of control teen, you bettcha. No role models, no feeling of acceptance, no safe place on which to fall. I had spent that summer at my aunts house in PA and my brother who was younger, had already tried smoking pot. One thing lead to the other and some parents of a seedling for PBG came to have a heart to heart with my mom. Within a week or so I landed at the seed.
I never was allowed to smoke until I went to the Seed. At 14 the staffers told my mom it is better that I smoked cigarettes than pot. Thus a lifelong struggle with that addiction.
Like I said before, I never did drugs. Of course the Seed NEVER believed me, why should they, hell my own mother didn't either. The worst thing, until very recently (this week), I actually thought I did smoke pot before I went there. After remembering the first time, I realized that it was AFTER I went into the Seed. My mother moved to a different house while I was in the Seed so I knew the right time frame. I still can't believe that I thought I had....geeeezz...talk about having my mind completely screwed up. I had such a hard time trying to fit in, trying to make them happy. Being so young and naive I really didn't have a clue to what the hell was going on. I did learn, as I lied and told them I did smoke pot, I was treated better and called up in front of the group less. The more I lied and told them other drugs, the less they took their frustrations out on me. I guess after a while you start believing your own lies.
I remember when another girl knew (Karen) came in while I was still a newcomer. We both knew sign language and we're trying to make our "escape." Not sure which staff figured it out, I think it was Ginger. I was a newcomer for a very long time. As much as I tried I was still a little wallflower. I remember even as a oldcomer, I didn't go home because I lived in Jupiter and couldn't come down the once or twice a weeknight meetings. I lost an entire year of school, an entire freaking year! I think the graduated me because they finally figured out I was still there. I remember the stupid songs, moral inventories, smoking on the hour or when the rap leader smoked. I remember sitting in that little space halfway up the stairs to run errands from phone calls. I remember working at the front desk at intake and wanting to write the word "RUN" and pass it to the poor kids coming in. I remember wanting to clean the bathrooms to get out of the damn rap meetings. I remember the heat in the summer. I remember exercising outside and nearly passing out from heat exhaustion. I remember having terrible headaches and being accused of lying about them. I remember the nasty sandwiches and kool-aid, the homes that I stayed in, the cranks that were taken off the windows, having to have some in the bathroom with me when I showered (that was really rough). I remember the softball games, and that I was the reason girls were no longer allowed to pitch.
It's amazing as I have read the posts for about a year, what I had blocked out. It all started to trickling back, little by little.
I remember Boone Dardens daughter Kim , an oldtimer. She used to be, I think a model at one time. I remember a Greg that lived in Tequesta. Karen from Berean Baptist (who later became a nurse), a boy I had a crush on that lived in the western part of WPB (can't remember his name). I remember Marilyn Sherman from Stuart who I stayed friends with for a few years and was the maid of honor at my wedding. Dawn who lived on Military Trail on PBG, I remember a very wealthy family that lived in Miami who had a huge poodle and a monkey, I think the dad was a regional director for 7-11, the family that had a really cool poster where all the kids who stayed there drew and colored on, I remember some really, really nasty dirty homes and some very weathly homes. I remember the cars that would pass by the Seed in Davie on SR84 yelling Fuck You, then later becoming one of them. I remember one of the dad's who was a pilot who flew Art to the different locations.
The staff I remember where, Billy the midget, Robert Chunn, John Underwood, Ginger,Darlene, Libby, Cookie who was engaged when she first came in (right after me) and had a big ring that really pissed off the staff, Suzie, Cliff, Pam (who I later learned married John U).
Art, I personally never liked, he gave me the creeps. He dressed weird, had a God complex and married someone more than half his age. Could never figure out why people worshipped him. Right before I graduated I remember going up to the "inner sanctum" Upstairs was very differnet from the downstairs hell. I do know he never ate bologna of peanut butter sandwiches or drank watered down kool-aid. Remember his limo....geez the nerve. My family's money was well spent! They had hardly any overhear. I never spoke one word to him or him to I until the one time I came back as an oldtimer and experiencing one of Arts "moods." I left and never returned, I remember getting one to those Christmas letters asking for donations and just writing "Fuck You" on it and sending it back. I really blocked a lot of stuff out.
I thought about writing to Art & Libby, as well as a few others this week, and telling them I never did drugs before I came there, that losing a whole freaking year of school really screw up my life. I was an uncontrollable teenage because my mom was clueless and had no where near a normal family, was sexually abused. I didn't fit in even in my own family and could never fit in the Seed. I wanted them to apologize, THEY WERE WRONG!!!! It would have been nice for someone to say they were sorry. They all had a part of a very painful time in my life. My spirit was broken and many years were spent trying to please others. I was in my late 30's before I woke up and realized I had no clue who I was. My likes and dislikes were modeled after the ones I was trying to please. It took everythng thing in me to get away from unhealthy relationships. Finally after 30 years I feel ok. The deep depression and self hatred has stopped.
I didn't write because I knew they would not remember lowly me, the wallflower. The one who didn't have a dramatic story to tell. The one who wasn't from a rich family. The one whose life spiraled downward. They were partly to blame, all of them. I was just a confuzed kid. What they did was WRONG on so many levels!!! I was really the wrong person, at the wrong place, at the wrong time.
Most of all I remember never feeling like I fit in, just like my own family. I tried to do everything to be a good little seedling, made up all kinds of stories of drug use to appease them.
To Greg, It has really helped me reading your posts. To hear from someone intelligent and sane was a big help. I spent years feeling unimportant, low self esteem and a few times suicidal. I am almost afraid to remember much more than I already have, I mean having to relive that nightmare again. Most of the memories are pretty bad, few good ones, but the good ones were outside the Seed in a few nice host families.
Thanks again for being brave enough to reach out to the rest of us rejects form the Seed. May this forum finally bring some healing to the deep wounds of our spirits. I still wonder what I would have been like had I not went there. Bad homelife and then the Seed, I guess it is a miricle I am still alive and kicking. Thanks again Greg.