I don’t really want to write about this, but I want to have record of my experience. Damned if I do, damned if I don’t. Plus, I need to keep japlady in the loop.
I swear to god this was one of the most intense four days of my life, and I wish I could say that it was a good thing. It started on Wednesday with a too-early start time. I went down to the school and picked up a car full of kids. We drove down to the mountains to a camp site. We began doing the training. All I knew about this event before I drove down there was that it was about “Cultural and Diversity Awareness Training” in all capital letters and everything. I had been given a packing list that mentioned bringing stuff for cultural pride night, but I didn’t have a freakin clue what that was about–so I ignored it.
During the training we talked about the agenda for the next few days. It meant very little to me because they mentioned the names of exercises but didn’t actually say much about them. The one exercise we previewed (so that the different staff members could get to know one another a little more) was a cultural biography exercise. The questions for it were:
1. State your first and last name and their origin.
2. Identify yourself, racially, ethnically, culturally and religiously and say why.
3. Relate an experience of prejudice (i.e. race, religion, gender, size, etc.), or a time you felt different, and your feelings at the time.
4. Relate an experience when you were a perpetrator of prejudice and your feelings at the time.
It seemed so… easy. But then we got into it. Most people had some pretty basic stuff to mention and it was no big deal. I told them that the only cultural identity I have is white trash. I got a little more into it than that and I started feeling vulnerable, but that really wasn’t so bad. I did ok with it and I figured that I would be fine as long as stuff continued at that intensity level. But… it didn’t stay there.
Later that night we did the first big group exercise. [I have deleted this 5 times trying to figure out how to explain this. It may sound weird.] It was about racial stereotypes. They would send one racial group out of the room at a time and have the rest of the group come up with all of the horrible put downs and stereotypes they could. Then they had the group come back in and reflect on what was written on the paper. It was incredibly powerful. The children responded with extremely personal stories about the prejudice they have felt. Some told about parents being assaulted or humiliated or degraded in front of them and they cried. With each successive group the kids as a whole were more subdued and nervous. When the white group went outside I went with them. I figured I would be fine, because I’ve heard all the white stereotypes and I’ve never felt that upset by them. But then I walked back in and looked at that paper. There were two that really bothered me: spoiled, and have never worked a day in their lives. I started shaking. I raised my hand to respond and I told them in a very choked voice that I started working when I was 14 so I could have a roof over my head. I told them that I have gone hungry in my life because there was no money for food. I told them I was furious that anyone would ever say that I am spoiled and that I have never worked. Then the queer group came up. They treated it as a separate cultural group throughout the weekend and that was interesting for me. {More about the word ‘queer’ coming up…} The one I responded to from the queer poster was “Going to hell.” I told them that last I checked, the bible talks about a god of love. And I am disgusted and horrified a the idea that a god of love would say that I am going to hell for who I love. And I am even more offended by all the hate perpetrated in the name of that god of love. And I started crying. I don’t know why it was so emotionally intense, but it was. And this was the easy day.
Then one of my kidlets got sick. So I drove her home because she is one of my special pets all of the time. I didn’t get back to camp until 2am.
Thursday dawned way too fucking early. The big group did a Self Identity exercise. It was a silent stand-up/sit-down exercise. They asked a series of questions and everyone who answered yes stood up. Then you were supposed to look around and see who was like you. This was terrible for me. Questions about your home life and if you have ever had to move because you were being evicted. Questions about family and have you been beaten or lived with a single parent or have you ever been in foster care. There were a number of the questions where I was the only person to stand up. It was hard and embarrassing and humiliating. I stood back there and cried. Then we went off to small groups where I was only talking to seven kids instead of the usual 70-something kids. Then in the small group we went over the cultural bio thing we had done in the staff group the day before. I cried some more. I was with some really neat kids though and it went alright.
Then we got to the next big group exercise. It was about privilege. Everyone started out in a big long line. The event organizer then asked us questions about our level of privilege–things like: have you ever inherited property, have you missed meals, did your family own more than 50 books as you grew up, and I can’t even remember what all else. For the positive ones people took a step forward; for the negative ones people took a step backwards. I ended up at the very very very very back dead even with two latino boys, the latino staff member, and a black boy. The five of us were so far behind other people it was pretty pathetic. All of the guys put on a very tough face. I sobbed like a baby. When the organizer asked me how I felt about being so far back I told him that I have always known it was bad, but I didn’t know how bad. Various female staff came over and tried to hug me and I fairly screeched at them not to fucking touch me. I stood back there crying and shaking for quite a while. I felt humiliated and disgusting. I was miserable. Then I had to go back to my small group and process this exercise. I didn’t really talk about it, but hearing the kids talk was interesting. I was in a group with the black boy who was at the back with me and six kids who were all really far forward. It was interesting hearing the kids talk about how they didn’t want to pity us–but they didn’t really know what to feel about having things so good.
Then we had the next big group exercise. They separated the sexes and really went to town establishing stereotypes and gender messages. Then they brought the boys back and we went through both sets of posters. It was really offensive and difficult. Most of the girls sobbed through the whole thing. They felt awful that the boys described them that way and that the boys really wanted to treat them so horribly. The boys looked very ashamed when they saw the girls’ reactions. Then they had us do another stand-up/sit-down exercise. This time going through questions about: have you ever been hit, have you ever been told not to cry, have you ever been hit to make you stop crying, have you ever been assaulted, have you ever been afraid of your parents… it went on and on and on. The boys side went first. The girls cried as they watched our beautiful, precious boys admit to these disgusting horrors. But not one of the boys cried–they very much looked upset though. Then they did the girls side. The girls kept crying and the boys started looking truly horrified. I was the only woman to stand up for every single question. Once again I felt humiliated and publicly on display for my horrible life. Then he had people respond and the kids said some really profound things. My response was, “I’m angry at how many of the people in this room had to say yes to these questions and I am sad that the girls can cry out their pain and get relief and the boys aren’t willing to allow themselves that release.” Then a couple of boys started openly crying. It was heart wrenching to hear some of them talk about how devastated they are knowing that so many of the girls have suffered and they are thinking about their mothers and sisters and how they would answer. It was overwhelming and awful.
Friday dawned way too fucking early as usual. This day was far less noticeably intense. The big group exercise in the morning was about family cultures and I didn’t get terribly upset by it. Then we broke off into small groups and did “family sculptures”. In this exercise you move the people in the room around to show the relationships among people in your family with you as the center. Doing my family was hard. I set it up pretty quickly and then told the kids about how the two boys lying on the bed are representing my dead father and brother and they are between my remaining brother and the rest of our family. I told them that my remaining brother has flat told me that it is my fault that my father and my brother are dead. I talked about my sister and her kids and her drug problems and how she loudly proclaims, often, that our dead brother is the only one who actually cares about her. I showed my mom sitting in the middle of the three of us because she is our only link and yet she has no power. I was sobbing so hard I could barely talk. Then, being me, I stomped my feelings into the ground, wiped my nose, and sat down to listen to them talk about their families. My shit wasn’t allowed to matter anymore.
Then we did action planning on how to bring these changes in perceptions back to the world at large. It was pretty cheesy. Then the kids found out that two of the staff members were undercover cops, including the Latino man who had been at the back of the privilege exercise with me. They answered questions and generally dispelled a lot of the myths about cops. It was pretty neat. But by this point I was near my breaking point emotionally. There had been too many ups and downs in one day. So then we had to get together with our cultural groups to prepare for the skit thing that night and I was… fragile. I was part of the mixed European group and people weren’t sure what to say about any of it and they kept asking questions so I answered them. Eventually one of the staff members told me, “This is supposed to be about the kids’ experience–let them talk.” But they were asking me questions! Ok, guess I am supposed to shrug and say, “I don’t know.” I’m not good at that. It feels stupid to me. So I got pissy and was really glad when it was time for me to go off an work with the queer group. Only, it turns out the kids were offended by my usage of the word queer. Apparently I was supposed to say LGBT. They didn’t tell me this though, they went and told several other adults and had those other adults deal with me. I saw red. I stormed away. I went and called Noah and sobbed hysterically on the phone for a while. I was really thinking about just leaving the event. But I decided to just suck it up and go back and work with the group and try to play nice. Only, as I did it I told the two kids who had complained that if they have a problem with me or my words they should take it up with me and not talk about me behind my back–that is called gossip and it isn’t ok. The other staff member in the group told me to go find the event organizer and talk to him because it didn’t look like I was calm enough to really be part of the exercise. So I flipped.
I got up almost shaking and started saying, “Fine. Fine. Fine.” In that way I do when things are Not Fine. I went to go find the event organizer or the woman from my school who organizes the event to tell them I was just leaving. Instead I ran into another teacher, the other person who puts this together every year, and I walked straight into his hug crying and crying and crying. He started asking me questions and I told him everything that was going badly for me. I told him about being raped and forced to move and being molested and going hungry when I was a kid. I told him every bad thing I could think of for about 20 minutes. I told him that I am *still* a cutter and I feel suicidal pretty frequently. He, of course, told me that he had no idea–well no fucking shit. I don’t talk about this stuff at work. He told me to sit out the event that night, but try to stay till the end of the event. I did it by staying off in the corner for the skit exercise and not talking at all.
Then there was the candlelight ceremony where everyone sits in a dark room and pass around a single candle and talk about what they have learned or appreciated. I instead offered up two quotes and didn’t mention anything else.
Saturday morning I was still pretty raw. I felt, and still feel, like I was put through a meat grinder. In the morning–during breakfast–we did a segregation exercise. They divided up the races (and the LGBT not queer group) and put everyone at separate tables under strict orders no to associate with, talk to, or even make eye contact with anyone outside of their group. [Right before the exercise started I talked to the kid who had complained about my usage of the word queer. I told him what it means to me and to my friends and why I use it as a self-label. I told him that by the time he complained about my word usage I had already had a rather stressful couple of days and I wasn’t in a great place to be open minded about someone complaining about me in that way. I told him that if he had come and asked *me* I would have been happy to explain it and I wouldn’t have been bothered by his initial reaction to feel offended. I also told him that it is ok if he rejects the label for himself because I am not going to demand that anyone share my label.] The exercise lasted a long time before anyone rebelled. I was in the queer group [fuck that kid] and we spent the entire time in silence because we weren’t exactly friends. It felt very isolating and lonely. In the debriefing for the exercise and the whole event I finally told them that I hated being there and I just wanted to go home. I said I don’t like thinking about these things and I would give anything to be back in my house with my husband. I said that while crying and generally looking pathetic, so chalk up one more point for public humiliation.
Then we went back to our small groups and debriefed some stuff more intensely with the kids we had gotten to know a little better. Then we did an affirmations exercise. I was *floored* by the things the kids said to me. They described me as a rubber ball who can bounce back from any horrible thing and still have the strength to support other people. They told me that they feel like they can tell me anything in the whole world and I will never judge them. They told me that they think I am the strongest and most formidable person they have ever met and they have enormous respect for me. They told me that they know that when they have a problem I will probably be the first person they talk to about it because I will certainly give good advice. I had thought they were put off or even kind of offended by the things I was telling them. They were all so quiet and stand-offish… By the end of that I was crying, but in a good way. I was glad I stayed to the end. I felt like me putting all my shit out there publicly had some merit.
I have been a wreck since I got back. I’m crying and snapping and in general being difficult to put up with. My saint of a husband is of course being kind. I don’t know if I will go back. I’m pretty certain they will ask me to, because I am such an extreme example of overcoming adversity, but I’m not sure I have it in me to go through that again.
Wow. I’m feeling wrung out and full of emotional turmoil just reading this.
You’re pretty damned formidable all right.
Wow. I’m feeling wrung out and full of emotional turmoil just reading this.
You’re pretty damned formidable all right.
I loved my Camp Anytown experience. I spent a lot of time crying, too. I was never close to these classmates I attended with, but I learned so much about them that it helped me to understand them better. My small group staff leader was my favorite English teacher, and it was at that retreat that she offered to be my adoptive mom, since I wouldn’t deal with mine at all if I had a choice. I still think very fondly on that weekend. Wish I could see it happen with high school kids now that I’ve got a little distance from how my life was then.
They would very much welcome your participation as a staff member. I can get you contact information, if you want.
Really? I thought you had to be one of the teachers. Please do!
And I’m sorry it was so hard for you. They should have provided more training, as someone says below, and certainly shouldn’t expect you to be an EXAMPLE in the future. Blecch.
Really? I thought you had to be one of the teachers. Please do!
And I’m sorry it was so hard for you. They should have provided more training, as someone says below, and certainly shouldn’t expect you to be an EXAMPLE in the future. Blecch.
They would very much welcome your participation as a staff member. I can get you contact information, if you want.
I loved my Camp Anytown experience. I spent a lot of time crying, too. I was never close to these classmates I attended with, but I learned so much about them that it helped me to understand them better. My small group staff leader was my favorite English teacher, and it was at that retreat that she offered to be my adoptive mom, since I wouldn’t deal with mine at all if I had a choice. I still think very fondly on that weekend. Wish I could see it happen with high school kids now that I’ve got a little distance from how my life was then.
I am just floored after reading this. I don’t know that I could have sat through all of that. I’m sorry that it was so freaking hard, but proud of you for going through it. I hope that it has a good result for you in the end.
There’s so many other emotions running through my head around this right now, but I’ve no clue how to put them to words.
::huuuuuuuuuugs::
I am just floored after reading this. I don’t know that I could have sat through all of that. I’m sorry that it was so freaking hard, but proud of you for going through it. I hope that it has a good result for you in the end.
There’s so many other emotions running through my head around this right now, but I’ve no clue how to put them to words.
::huuuuuuuuuugs::
I have so much more respect for you than I can really hope to express.
I have so much more respect for you than I can really hope to express.
Wow, just reading that was tough. It certainly does sound like you took a multi-pass trip through the meat grinder. ::Hugs::
Does seem like a really extreme thing to send kids to. Did they send everyone from the school or was just a special group? Or were these a completely different set of kids?
I’d be interested in hear what the kids say about the 4 days both now and a year from now. It seems like it could easily be too intense for kids but it also seems like it might have beat the message in to them. I also worry about what happens when the kids get back to school. Will any of them get picked on for things they admitted with at camp? Did this actually change their attitudes?
I will point out the silver lining that the four days should have highlighted. You have come so far from where you started. Yes it has been a rough road but you did it. When I say ‘you did it’, I mean YOU. It’s not like you got a lot of help or support from anyone. Yes, I have my masters degree but my parents paid for college and my living expenses while I went to college. You did all that stuff on your own. You are a strong powerful person who defied the odds and made something positive of your life. You should be extremely proud of yourself. You’re not the same girl I met when she was in high school. If nothing else, I have a lot of respect for what you have done.
Teachers recommend kids who seem like “leaders” and who might benefit from being more understanding. And by leaders they do *not* mean the smart, always good kids. They want the ones who are often disrupting class and getting people off track because they have strong personalities. They usually send around 50 kids, this year was unusually large. The kids in general love the experience and become huge proponents of it. My dislike of it seems to be fairly unusual. Most kids are fanatics and want to go back. There are major statistics that this program does actually help kids change a lot of attitudes.
People are very very very rarely picked on for what they say. But I’m not looking forward to being ‘out’ now.
And I actually am not really happy with your statement that I am a different person now than I was when I was in high school. I was still actively being abused, assaulted, and I was *suffering* in high school. I was doing the very best I could to survive and the fact that people speak of my behavior then negatively really bothers me. You have no idea what every day was like for me and the fact that I was getting up every morning was a big deal. I don’t feel like that is given much respect. Yes, I am different now, but I am also not being abused anymore.
Teachers recommend kids who seem like “leaders” and who might benefit from being more understanding. And by leaders they do *not* mean the smart, always good kids. They want the ones who are often disrupting class and getting people off track because they have strong personalities. They usually send around 50 kids, this year was unusually large. The kids in general love the experience and become huge proponents of it. My dislike of it seems to be fairly unusual. Most kids are fanatics and want to go back. There are major statistics that this program does actually help kids change a lot of attitudes.
People are very very very rarely picked on for what they say. But I’m not looking forward to being ‘out’ now.
And I actually am not really happy with your statement that I am a different person now than I was when I was in high school. I was still actively being abused, assaulted, and I was *suffering* in high school. I was doing the very best I could to survive and the fact that people speak of my behavior then negatively really bothers me. You have no idea what every day was like for me and the fact that I was getting up every morning was a big deal. I don’t feel like that is given much respect. Yes, I am different now, but I am also not being abused anymore.
Wow, just reading that was tough. It certainly does sound like you took a multi-pass trip through the meat grinder. ::Hugs::
Does seem like a really extreme thing to send kids to. Did they send everyone from the school or was just a special group? Or were these a completely different set of kids?
I’d be interested in hear what the kids say about the 4 days both now and a year from now. It seems like it could easily be too intense for kids but it also seems like it might have beat the message in to them. I also worry about what happens when the kids get back to school. Will any of them get picked on for things they admitted with at camp? Did this actually change their attitudes?
I will point out the silver lining that the four days should have highlighted. You have come so far from where you started. Yes it has been a rough road but you did it. When I say ‘you did it’, I mean YOU. It’s not like you got a lot of help or support from anyone. Yes, I have my masters degree but my parents paid for college and my living expenses while I went to college. You did all that stuff on your own. You are a strong powerful person who defied the odds and made something positive of your life. You should be extremely proud of yourself. You’re not the same girl I met when she was in high school. If nothing else, I have a lot of respect for what you have done.
I am so proud of you, sweetie.
I am so proud of you, sweetie.
Both Vortlimpa and I participated (separately) in programs very much like what you describe when we were in jr high/high school in the LAUSD.
Unfortunately, what you describe sounds almost EXACTLY like our experience with it, which disappoints me greatly to hear that 15-20 years later they’re still selling the same shit. We both felt that while well intentioned, all those programs REALLY accomplished was stirring up a LOT of crap without having appropriate diffusing/debriefing tools in place. I don’t think they’re really prepared to deal with the depth of emotion and trauma that these programs can uncover, and ultimately, we found them to be a pretty irresponsible thing to do.
I’m so sorry you had to go through this, and I hope you can find some safe, healthy ways to process and cope with the feelings you’ve uncovered.
*hugs*
That’s what it sounded like to me, too. It’s sort of like dumping a bucket of semi-voluntary therapy over people, but with no support tools and nothing to help with recovery.
I think I agree with this viewpoint as well. It sounds like it could have some huge repercussions. I cannot even begin to imagine how hard this was for you. I know I would have been one of the kids at the front of the line. *hugs* You’re a stronger person than I for getting through it.
I think I agree with this viewpoint as well. It sounds like it could have some huge repercussions. I cannot even begin to imagine how hard this was for you. I know I would have been one of the kids at the front of the line. *hugs* You’re a stronger person than I for getting through it.
I only know what I’ve read here, but it sounds to me as though they did quite a bit of processing, large group, small group, and there were plenty of staff available as well. To say “no support tools” seems extreme.
Contrast with, say, SFSI training where the goal is to intentionally stir shit up and specifically not to process it. Their theory is that there’s no workshop when you’re working on the hot lines, so if either you or your existing support network can’t stand the strain, it’s better to know that early.
It’s always hard to balance “processing time” with “stirring things up” time in any workshop. I’ve been in some which had the balance too far one way, (like, SFSI), and I’ve been to others that seemed to me to have the balance too far the other way. I swear HAI sometimes has us processing what just happened in the last processing session, or at least, it sometimes feels that way.
That’s what it sounded like to me, too. It’s sort of like dumping a bucket of semi-voluntary therapy over people, but with no support tools and nothing to help with recovery.
Both Vortlimpa and I participated (separately) in programs very much like what you describe when we were in jr high/high school in the LAUSD.
Unfortunately, what you describe sounds almost EXACTLY like our experience with it, which disappoints me greatly to hear that 15-20 years later they’re still selling the same shit. We both felt that while well intentioned, all those programs REALLY accomplished was stirring up a LOT of crap without having appropriate diffusing/debriefing tools in place. I don’t think they’re really prepared to deal with the depth of emotion and trauma that these programs can uncover, and ultimately, we found them to be a pretty irresponsible thing to do.
I’m so sorry you had to go through this, and I hope you can find some safe, healthy ways to process and cope with the feelings you’ve uncovered.
*hugs*
If they ask you to go back, at least this time you’ll know about how much this could churn up inside of you. It sounds as if you didn’t know how much all of that, especially over a short period of time, could affect you, and that you were overwhelmed. With a little foreknowledge that this could knock you on your ass, you might be able to handle it better – if you go through with it again.
“I am the strongest and most formidable person they have ever met and they have enormous respect for me.”
That’s because you are strong and formidable, and worthy of respect.
If they ask you to go back, at least this time you’ll know about how much this could churn up inside of you. It sounds as if you didn’t know how much all of that, especially over a short period of time, could affect you, and that you were overwhelmed. With a little foreknowledge that this could knock you on your ass, you might be able to handle it better – if you go through with it again.
“I am the strongest and most formidable person they have ever met and they have enormous respect for me.”
That’s because you are strong and formidable, and worthy of respect.
Wow. That is a shitload to go through in a very short time; I’m not surprised you’re fragile and upset as a result of it.
It sounds to me like the program is something that’s really useful for kids whose family lives are within a standard deviation or so out on the bell curve, but it also sounds like they’re not prepared to deal with people whose childhoods were further out. Myself, I think that any organized group that is going to be asking those kinds of questions should have a therapist on staff. After all, if you were unprepared to deal with the emotional intensity of the situation, think about how unprepared a 16-year-old in the same situation could be.
Be good to yourself. And remember that you never owe anyone your story, no matter how much good it might do for them to hear it. How much to reveal and how much to conceal about your childhood is entirely your prerogative.
I feel horrible that now a bunch of people at my job feel like they “know me.” I don’t want them to make comments of support or try to console me. Just fuck off.
A lot of people seem to think that letting down your shields with them once means that you can do it again, whenever. And a lot of people think that having shared the experience with you gives them some kind of right to refer to that experience in a knowing way in later situations outside of that experience. A lot of people can fuck the hell off.
“[I’m sorry, but] I wouldn’t have shared this with you outside of that environment, and I am not interested in sharing anything about it with you further. I prefer to keep things professional, and ask you not refer to it again.”
A lot of people seem to think that letting down your shields with them once means that you can do it again, whenever. And a lot of people think that having shared the experience with you gives them some kind of right to refer to that experience in a knowing way in later situations outside of that experience. A lot of people can fuck the hell off.
“[I’m sorry, but] I wouldn’t have shared this with you outside of that environment, and I am not interested in sharing anything about it with you further. I prefer to keep things professional, and ask you not refer to it again.”
I feel horrible that now a bunch of people at my job feel like they “know me.” I don’t want them to make comments of support or try to console me. Just fuck off.
Wow. That is a shitload to go through in a very short time; I’m not surprised you’re fragile and upset as a result of it.
It sounds to me like the program is something that’s really useful for kids whose family lives are within a standard deviation or so out on the bell curve, but it also sounds like they’re not prepared to deal with people whose childhoods were further out. Myself, I think that any organized group that is going to be asking those kinds of questions should have a therapist on staff. After all, if you were unprepared to deal with the emotional intensity of the situation, think about how unprepared a 16-year-old in the same situation could be.
Be good to yourself. And remember that you never owe anyone your story, no matter how much good it might do for them to hear it. How much to reveal and how much to conceal about your childhood is entirely your prerogative.
Wow…
I haven’t told you lately how much I appreciate you. You are so important and awesome and I know sometimes speaking your experiences is the most painful thing anyone can imagine… I had to force myself through reading this because it brought so much up for me, I can’t imagine what it was like for you. Seems like you could have been supported a bit more, it’s easy to forget how hard it’s going to be for the person who has to keep raising their hand. (that in itself is cultural sensitivity) I suppose there is no easy way to pull the band aid off for people though.
Love and goodness for you sweeetie, I don’t think I’d move to hug you right now unless you asked me for it. I’m so glad you’re taking good care of you and have a saint of a husband to help you.
Wow…
I haven’t told you lately how much I appreciate you. You are so important and awesome and I know sometimes speaking your experiences is the most painful thing anyone can imagine… I had to force myself through reading this because it brought so much up for me, I can’t imagine what it was like for you. Seems like you could have been supported a bit more, it’s easy to forget how hard it’s going to be for the person who has to keep raising their hand. (that in itself is cultural sensitivity) I suppose there is no easy way to pull the band aid off for people though.
Love and goodness for you sweeetie, I don’t think I’d move to hug you right now unless you asked me for it. I’m so glad you’re taking good care of you and have a saint of a husband to help you.
You are amazing.
You are amazing.
They described me as a rubber ball who can bounce back from any horrible thing and still have the strength to support other people. They told me that they feel like they can tell me anything in the whole world and I will never judge them. They told me that they think I am the strongest and most formidable person they have ever met and they have enormous respect for me.
These qualities come through in your journal all the time. I’m glad the kids could show them to you.
They described me as a rubber ball who can bounce back from any horrible thing and still have the strength to support other people. They told me that they feel like they can tell me anything in the whole world and I will never judge them. They told me that they think I am the strongest and most formidable person they have ever met and they have enormous respect for me.
These qualities come through in your journal all the time. I’m glad the kids could show them to you.
This whole experience seems…way out of bounds for a school event.
This time going through questions about: have you ever been hit, have you ever been told not to cry, have you ever been hit to make you stop crying, have you ever been assaulted, have you ever been afraid of your parents… it went on and on and on…. I was the only woman to stand up for every single question. Once again I felt humiliated and publicly on display for my horrible life.
I can’t speak for every single question, but I would have been standing with you for those, and others I imagine they asked. I’m sorry you had to stand alone but I’m glad those kids have been safe from some of those experiences. I’m not good at being a pro-active friend, but I’ve been known to allude to our friendship in a way that some might consider bragging.
This whole experience seems…way out of bounds for a school event.
This time going through questions about: have you ever been hit, have you ever been told not to cry, have you ever been hit to make you stop crying, have you ever been assaulted, have you ever been afraid of your parents… it went on and on and on…. I was the only woman to stand up for every single question. Once again I felt humiliated and publicly on display for my horrible life.
I can’t speak for every single question, but I would have been standing with you for those, and others I imagine they asked. I’m sorry you had to stand alone but I’m glad those kids have been safe from some of those experiences. I’m not good at being a pro-active friend, but I’ve been known to allude to our friendship in a way that some might consider bragging.
Reading your story here has had me crying.
The kids were right, all those affirmations so true.
Do you realize that what you’ve created, all the good in your life that you’ve created you’ve molded right out of the substance of your soul? Your beautiful soul.
Many are propped up by priviledge and favors never earned.
You shine because of the beauty of your soul.
I’m not saying that you haven’t been shown kindness here and there along the way. What kindess has been given, I am sure you inspire.
Look at you. Inspiring. Strong and fragile in the same moment. Beautiful, always.
Reading your story here has had me crying.
The kids were right, all those affirmations so true.
Do you realize that what you’ve created, all the good in your life that you’ve created you’ve molded right out of the substance of your soul? Your beautiful soul.
Many are propped up by priviledge and favors never earned.
You shine because of the beauty of your soul.
I’m not saying that you haven’t been shown kindness here and there along the way. What kindess has been given, I am sure you inspire.
Look at you. Inspiring. Strong and fragile in the same moment. Beautiful, always.
“Then we did an affirmations exercise. I was *floored* by the things the kids said to me. They described me as a rubber ball who can bounce back from any horrible thing and still have the strength to support other people. They told me that they feel like they can tell me anything in the whole world and I will never judge them. They told me that they think I am the strongest and most formidable person they have ever met and they have enormous respect for me.”
What they said.
“Then we did an affirmations exercise. I was *floored* by the things the kids said to me. They described me as a rubber ball who can bounce back from any horrible thing and still have the strength to support other people. They told me that they feel like they can tell me anything in the whole world and I will never judge them. They told me that they think I am the strongest and most formidable person they have ever met and they have enormous respect for me.”
What they said.
My daughter did Anytown a year ago, and is still close to a handful of the kids she met from there. She’s one of the white, privileged kids, and she came home with a lot more appreciation for her family life.
I can’t believe they didn’t do an intense training with you as a counselor… to expect you to process your own stuff while helping others process similarly difficult crap is totally out of the question. It sounds like you came through with your dignity and strength intact, and you have my admiration and respect for not bolting that first night!
Thanks for sharing all of this. I hope writing about it helped you in some way… you did a great job telling a difficult story.
And I say “queer” too.
My daughter did Anytown a year ago, and is still close to a handful of the kids she met from there. She’s one of the white, privileged kids, and she came home with a lot more appreciation for her family life.
I can’t believe they didn’t do an intense training with you as a counselor… to expect you to process your own stuff while helping others process similarly difficult crap is totally out of the question. It sounds like you came through with your dignity and strength intact, and you have my admiration and respect for not bolting that first night!
Thanks for sharing all of this. I hope writing about it helped you in some way… you did a great job telling a difficult story.
And I say “queer” too.
Wow. Reading this made me cry too, honey. My life growing up wasn’t easy by most standards, but it’s still hard for me to comprehend what a nightmare you were living through every day, during what is already one of the more difficult times in everybody’s life.
I was drafted for a workshop when I was in 7th or 8th grade, but it was not about diversity, and it was a good deal more cerebral. It was about ways of thinking, how you saw yourself and others, and how you dealt with challenges. It was called ‘Positive Imaging’ I believe, and I didn’t take it particularly seriously going in, but the presenters were good and they dug deep, and ultimately it made a lasting impression on me and I used some of the tools that it gave me for a long time (and still do to some extent).
If you can and are able, to take any consolation away from this, they used your pain (and others) to attempt to make a deep and constructive impact upon the minds of these kids and the way they see other people. From the sound of the kid’s reactions and some of the other comments you’ve received, it does seem like it has an effect, and at that age, that level of impact can resonate for a long, long time.
It’s human nature to hide pain and anguish, because that exposes vulnerability, and vulnerability makes you a target. I expect that’s something that has survived within us from all the way back in the hunter-gatherer days. Letting them see what they themselves contain and what they can inflict upon others without even knowing it, in a protected environment, has to be opening some young minds and some young eyes a lot wider than they have ever been before.
I’m sorry it was so excruciatingly painful and embarrassing for you. Nobody could blame you for choosing never to go back. If you did choose to do so, they should make you more a part of the administering process.
Just realize that they’re trying to do some good in the world, and as personal as it is to you, as difficult as it is for you, your experience and your pain gives them a very potent tool to work with.
Ultimately, if they chose to let it be a superficial experience, the results would be superficial too.
Give yourself some time to heal sweetie, and know that if I were there I would have a big hug for you.
Wow. Reading this made me cry too, honey. My life growing up wasn’t easy by most standards, but it’s still hard for me to comprehend what a nightmare you were living through every day, during what is already one of the more difficult times in everybody’s life.
I was drafted for a workshop when I was in 7th or 8th grade, but it was not about diversity, and it was a good deal more cerebral. It was about ways of thinking, how you saw yourself and others, and how you dealt with challenges. It was called ‘Positive Imaging’ I believe, and I didn’t take it particularly seriously going in, but the presenters were good and they dug deep, and ultimately it made a lasting impression on me and I used some of the tools that it gave me for a long time (and still do to some extent).
If you can and are able, to take any consolation away from this, they used your pain (and others) to attempt to make a deep and constructive impact upon the minds of these kids and the way they see other people. From the sound of the kid’s reactions and some of the other comments you’ve received, it does seem like it has an effect, and at that age, that level of impact can resonate for a long, long time.
It’s human nature to hide pain and anguish, because that exposes vulnerability, and vulnerability makes you a target. I expect that’s something that has survived within us from all the way back in the hunter-gatherer days. Letting them see what they themselves contain and what they can inflict upon others without even knowing it, in a protected environment, has to be opening some young minds and some young eyes a lot wider than they have ever been before.
I’m sorry it was so excruciatingly painful and embarrassing for you. Nobody could blame you for choosing never to go back. If you did choose to do so, they should make you more a part of the administering process.
Just realize that they’re trying to do some good in the world, and as personal as it is to you, as difficult as it is for you, your experience and your pain gives them a very potent tool to work with.
Ultimately, if they chose to let it be a superficial experience, the results would be superficial too.
Give yourself some time to heal sweetie, and know that if I were there I would have a big hug for you.
Well, it sounds like you handled it as well as it could possibly be handled. But it sounds horrible, and horribly inappropriate, to me. It sounds like the people with difficult lives were used as consciousness-raising tools for the people with not-so-difficult lives. It also sounds like a *hugely* inappropriate breakdown of boundaries between teachers and students.
Was doing this a condition of your job? If so, I’d consider filing a complaint. What you’re describing is something very close to emotional abuse and should not be a condition of anyone’s employment.
It isn’t a condition of my job, but it is strongly encouraged. I’m mostly peeved that they don’t really warn people. I wasn’t given adequate information to make an informed decision. Like RACK and stuff. 🙂
Everyone but me seems to have good experiences. I wonder what that says about me.
I wonder what that says about me.
That you’re at a different place in your processing and dealing with a history of abuse than many of the people who’ve gone through the program? And possibly that other people who’ve felt similarly after the program have not spoken up strongly enough about the negative repercussions for anyone to remember it.
And possibly that other people who’ve felt similarly after the program have not spoken up strongly enough about the negative repercussions for anyone to remember it.
What she said. Also, it sounds like your complaints (for instance, to P-A) were pretty much dismissed because it “wasn’t about you”. Students are generally dismissed when they’re down on school programs because, well, they’re students. So “for anyone to remember it” pretty much requires firearms or cuts to the school budget.
“”for anyone to remember it” pretty much requires firearms or cuts to the school budget”
IIWTC
What they did, pushing your pain aside, was wrong.
They brought you there, had you participate, affected your emotional equilibrium without warning, and then have the balls to say “it’s not about you”?
whoever said that is fulla shit.
And it sounds like they did NOT take care of their business like they should’ve.
GRRR
I kinda hate to ask this, but… What’s IIWTC? Neither Google nor UrbanDictionary know.
“I agree with this comment.”
funny – I had to look it up too, previously; but I know I found the definition online…
“I agree with this comment.”
funny – I had to look it up too, previously; but I know I found the definition online…
d’oh. that’s cos I typed it wrong. My bad
*feels foolish*
d’oh. that’s cos I typed it wrong. My bad
*feels foolish*
I kinda hate to ask this, but… What’s IIWTC? Neither Google nor UrbanDictionary know.
“”for anyone to remember it” pretty much requires firearms or cuts to the school budget”
IIWTC
What they did, pushing your pain aside, was wrong.
They brought you there, had you participate, affected your emotional equilibrium without warning, and then have the balls to say “it’s not about you”?
whoever said that is fulla shit.
And it sounds like they did NOT take care of their business like they should’ve.
GRRR
And possibly that other people who’ve felt similarly after the program have not spoken up strongly enough about the negative repercussions for anyone to remember it.
What she said. Also, it sounds like your complaints (for instance, to P-A) were pretty much dismissed because it “wasn’t about you”. Students are generally dismissed when they’re down on school programs because, well, they’re students. So “for anyone to remember it” pretty much requires firearms or cuts to the school budget.
I wonder what that says about me.
That you’re at a different place in your processing and dealing with a history of abuse than many of the people who’ve gone through the program? And possibly that other people who’ve felt similarly after the program have not spoken up strongly enough about the negative repercussions for anyone to remember it.
You have an unusual background. That makes you an “outlier” in the scale of experience, and doesn’t surprise me at all that you would feel differently about this program. I DON’T think you’re the only one who doesn’t feel positive about it, but others either didn’t admit to their past histories, or haven’t acknowledged how this experiment made them feel. You’ve worked very hard to create a culture of honesty about yourself, to eliminate feelings of shame or guilt…..for you, it would feel wrong to lie/not reveal your true answers when asked direct questions. The teenager, who might be in the place you WERE when you were in high school is going to be no where near where you are now. All it “says about you” is that you have a different perspective. It certainly doesn’t say anything bad about you.
As I said above….I don’t like the way these programs are handled….I think they open a bigger can of worms than they are prepared to control, and can be very dangerous. So I for one, don’t feel positive about MY experience with it 20 years ago, and neither does Mark. Sure we made some friends and felt bonded about some things at the time, but the overriding sense what that it lacked closure and productivity.
You have an unusual background. That makes you an “outlier” in the scale of experience, and doesn’t surprise me at all that you would feel differently about this program. I DON’T think you’re the only one who doesn’t feel positive about it, but others either didn’t admit to their past histories, or haven’t acknowledged how this experiment made them feel. You’ve worked very hard to create a culture of honesty about yourself, to eliminate feelings of shame or guilt…..for you, it would feel wrong to lie/not reveal your true answers when asked direct questions. The teenager, who might be in the place you WERE when you were in high school is going to be no where near where you are now. All it “says about you” is that you have a different perspective. It certainly doesn’t say anything bad about you.
As I said above….I don’t like the way these programs are handled….I think they open a bigger can of worms than they are prepared to control, and can be very dangerous. So I for one, don’t feel positive about MY experience with it 20 years ago, and neither does Mark. Sure we made some friends and felt bonded about some things at the time, but the overriding sense what that it lacked closure and productivity.
::hugs::
I think you’re very raw.
That’s one of the things I like about you.
I doubt it was a particularly great experience for anyone, cause it sounds like it’s a slap in the face without much in the way of aftercare for it.
I hope you’re doing ok. That sounds way intense, and I’m not sure how well I would’ve gotten through it. I admire you a lot.
::hugs::
I think you’re very raw.
That’s one of the things I like about you.
I doubt it was a particularly great experience for anyone, cause it sounds like it’s a slap in the face without much in the way of aftercare for it.
I hope you’re doing ok. That sounds way intense, and I’m not sure how well I would’ve gotten through it. I admire you a lot.
It isn’t a condition of my job, but it is strongly encouraged. I’m mostly peeved that they don’t really warn people. I wasn’t given adequate information to make an informed decision. Like RACK and stuff. 🙂
Everyone but me seems to have good experiences. I wonder what that says about me.
Well, it sounds like you handled it as well as it could possibly be handled. But it sounds horrible, and horribly inappropriate, to me. It sounds like the people with difficult lives were used as consciousness-raising tools for the people with not-so-difficult lives. It also sounds like a *hugely* inappropriate breakdown of boundaries between teachers and students.
Was doing this a condition of your job? If so, I’d consider filing a complaint. What you’re describing is something very close to emotional abuse and should not be a condition of anyone’s employment.
was *floored* by the things the kids said to me. They described me as a rubber ball who can bounce back from any horrible thing and still have the strength to support other people. They told me that they feel like they can tell me anything in the whole world and I will never judge them. They told me that they think I am the strongest and most formidable person they have ever met and they have enormous respect for me. They told me that they know that when they have a problem I will probably be the first person they talk to about it because I will certainly give good advice. I had thought they were put off or even kind of offended by the things I was telling them. They were all so quiet and stand-offish…
I’m guessing they were quiet and stand-offish because they didn’t know how to respond, and they probably had no idea that you could read “saying nothing” as potentially judging you negatively for the things you’d shared.
I bolded some of the statements above because they’re some of the core things we’ve talked about before about what, if anything, good can come from all this. I’m really, really glad that the people who could most say those things to you and mean them were given a place for you to hear them.
Some walls I let down for no one. Not even B has heard it all. I recognize it in you as a strength to be able to share it, and it is something I am working on for myself. I’m not one of your kids–I probably won’t run to you if something in my life goes completely to shit (poor B gets to deal with these things first, usually). But I can still say that because of you and the things and way you’ve shared, I look at you with respect and a desire to emulate what I see as a valuable behavior. Not just kids, but adults around you, too, benefit from your perspective.
Some good comes from it. I don’t know if it will ever be enough for you to feel better, but there is some good to be had.
I’m guessing they were quiet and stand-offish because they didn’t know how to respond, and they probably had no idea that you could read “saying nothing” as potentially judging you negatively for the things you’d shared.
You beat me to saying it. And said it better than I expect I would have. Kids are often awkward, and often don’t know how their reactions will be interpreted.
I’m guessing they were quiet and stand-offish because they didn’t know how to respond, and they probably had no idea that you could read “saying nothing” as potentially judging you negatively for the things you’d shared.
You beat me to saying it. And said it better than I expect I would have. Kids are often awkward, and often don’t know how their reactions will be interpreted.
was *floored* by the things the kids said to me. They described me as a rubber ball who can bounce back from any horrible thing and still have the strength to support other people. They told me that they feel like they can tell me anything in the whole world and I will never judge them. They told me that they think I am the strongest and most formidable person they have ever met and they have enormous respect for me. They told me that they know that when they have a problem I will probably be the first person they talk to about it because I will certainly give good advice. I had thought they were put off or even kind of offended by the things I was telling them. They were all so quiet and stand-offish…
I’m guessing they were quiet and stand-offish because they didn’t know how to respond, and they probably had no idea that you could read “saying nothing” as potentially judging you negatively for the things you’d shared.
I bolded some of the statements above because they’re some of the core things we’ve talked about before about what, if anything, good can come from all this. I’m really, really glad that the people who could most say those things to you and mean them were given a place for you to hear them.
Some walls I let down for no one. Not even B has heard it all. I recognize it in you as a strength to be able to share it, and it is something I am working on for myself. I’m not one of your kids–I probably won’t run to you if something in my life goes completely to shit (poor B gets to deal with these things first, usually). But I can still say that because of you and the things and way you’ve shared, I look at you with respect and a desire to emulate what I see as a valuable behavior. Not just kids, but adults around you, too, benefit from your perspective.
Some good comes from it. I don’t know if it will ever be enough for you to feel better, but there is some good to be had.
The idea of a teacher being put in a situation where she has to discuss such extremely personal events and issues in front of her kids, let alone in front of her colleagues, is appalling.
The idea of a teacher being put in a situation where she has to discuss such extremely personal events and issues in front of her kids, let alone in front of her colleagues, is appalling.
If I had had this experience, I imagine I would feel extremely angry toward the organizers. Were there really well qualified therapists immediately available? What about now in the aftermath? I am so sorry you had to experience this. And as you point out, now these people think they “know” you to boot.
If I had had this experience, I imagine I would feel extremely angry toward the organizers. Were there really well qualified therapists immediately available? What about now in the aftermath? I am so sorry you had to experience this. And as you point out, now these people think they “know” you to boot.
I just skimmed this, and I’ve gotta say, that sounds kind of fucked up. Like something that if done in a superficial way would have had everyone go home with the right message, but instead it fucked with everyone’s brains in a way they weren’t all necessarily equipped to handle.
I was actually under the impression that Landmark and Everytown might be a bit more similar, but this makes it sound like they are very, very different.