2024.05.28 15:58 krookork the letter e appears 6259 times in my american history notes
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2024.05.27 19:56 The-Last-Despot Project Ceasar Ideas I have!
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2024.05.22 16:06 becausehippo A small selection of comments about the term "African American" (popularized by Jesse Jackson in the 1980s)
This reminds me of a television interview I saw many years ago. A reporter from one of the major US television networks (I forget which one) was interviewing black British athlete Kriss Akabusi after being a member of the 400 metres relay team that took the gold medal at the 1991 Athletics World Championships. The interviewer started off with:
"So, Kriss, what does this mean to you as an African-American?"
"I'm not American, I'm British"
"Yes, but as a British African-American ..."
"I'm not African. I'm not American. I'm British."
This went on for some time before the reporter got so flustered that she gave up and went to interview someone else. I guess more than anything else it demonstrates the potential absurdity of political correctness -- this reporter was so tied-up with the idea that the "correct" term for someone of afro-caribbean ancestry was African-American and not Black that she couldn't cope with the fact that many black people are neither African nor American.
Hello all,
I was interested in this story and the lack of Primary Sources. So much so that I emailed Kriss via his website and got confirmation that the story is indeed true and actually took place during the Commonwealth Games in 1990:
Hi Ted, Thank you for your interest. The said interview was during the Common wealth games in Auckland 1990. Hope this helps? Kind regards,
:)
Awooga!
The Akabusi thing absolutely happened, I saw the vid on tv on a couple of occasions, and distinctly remember his face and also the insistance and utter non-comprehension of the interviewer. It is a classic. I have looked for it online to answer similar questions in the past and I cannot find it. It is from a long time ago, but has been on uk tv in the last few years, maybe 3. I find it VERY remarkable that it is not available to be found online anywhere. At least not with my google foo. And I really really tried.
I definitely saw this video online, but I can't seem to find it? Strange.
In the sub chapter "conspiracy from large organizations" it seems easy to me to think that the large tv company in question probably had it [the footage of the Kriss Akabusi interview] nuked. i have no basis for this, except that things don't disappear that way from the internet. It is becoming a legend on the web, but was on a funny tv prog in uk less than 36 months ago ...
I saw this EXACT exchange, but it was Seal, being interviewed on MTV in 1994, when his "Kiss from a Rose" went multi-mega-platinum or whatever it did to make a kajillion dollars.
It was a short interview, and I don't remember who the MTV kid interviewer was; I remember it was a young lady. It may have been Kennedy.
I have no proof of this; can't find any video, and Kennedy doesn't mention it in her new book. I just remember it happened to be on the TV late at night, and I was thinking, "WOW that's awkward - this American kid has no idea how to discuss race, and is trying to discuss race."
The question was something like, "what's it like being such a prominent African-American artist?" and Seal was very gently trying to tell her that he's not American, nor is he African. "I'm British," he kept saying. "No, I'm black, and I'm British.."
I was frankly in awe of his patience.
I remember watching the 2006 world cup during my senior year in math class. France was playing one of their bracket matches and my girlfriend at the time watches about 45 seconds of the game and says "Wow! France has a lot of African Americans on their team!" I didn't even say anything. I was hoping the silence would give her time to let that comment sink in. It never did.
I've heard fellow Americans refer to Nelson Mandela as an African-American.
Shit's insane.
... the principal of my prestigious high school referred to Nelson Mandela as African-American.
I think a lot of Americans genuinely haven't contextualized the two words "African" and "American" in African-American. For them it's simply a nicer way of saying "black". Ergo, all black people worldwide are African-Americans as well.
It's bizarre but apparently true.
I witnessed a similar situation in London. I was studying abroad and heading back to the dorm on a nightbus with my other classmates, all of us being from Florida. One girl in our group sits next to a black guy and being that she's drunk she gets chatty. She asks the guy "what is it like to be African-American in England?" his response was "I'm not African-American" "oh right, yeah, I mean African" "I'm not African!" "Then what are you???" "I'm British!"
African american is a fucking stupid and unnecessary euphemism. I used to have a coworker that was from South Africa. This is in Argentina, which, as much as the US likes to call themselves "America" and pretend the rest of the continent is not there, is "America" (that is, everyone in Argentina and other south american countries identify themselves as American, living in America, the continent). So, I always talked about him as "Afroamericano" (African-American). Then they met him, and realized the guy was whiter than cocaine. Technically correct is the best kind of correct.
This is just like when Chiwetel Ejiofor, at the Academy Awards, someone asked him what it feels like to be the first ever African American to be nominated as best actor.
This reminds me of when we read Athol Fugard's play "Master Harold...and the boys" in high school. To summarise, it is about race and class relations in apartheid era South Africa. My teacher lost his shit because everyone kept calling them African-Americans. An abiding memory is him nearly yelling, "they are ALL just AFRICAN."
Back in the eighties when we started using the term "African American" I had a friend in college who was from Kenya. He came up in conversation one day and someone asked me who I was talking about. I said: "you know so-and-so, the African guy." A very politically correct friend told me my language was very incorrect and I should refer to him as African American. I said that he wasn't American at all, he was from Kenya, Africa. Silence ensued while they digested this tidbit.
Me sister told me recently that she had a discussion about why black people in England are not called African Americans. It was with my seven year old niece...
This also happened to a Black Canadian hockey player. Can't remember who though...
I remember reading a financial news article. The article talked about second quarter earnings being in the red for a company while 3rd quarter earnings were expected to be in the African-American. It was a a professional news source with proper journalists and everything. Pretty fucking sad. I know I facepalmed reading that.
My favorite was when I heard a white lady on the news refer to Nelson Mandela as ‘African-American’. No, honey, he’s just African.
one of my history teachers in high school once talked about "European African Americans"
My history teacher said Hitler discriminated against Jewish people, LGBTQ people, disabled people, and instead of black people she said African Americans... in Germany and countries around it, so many African Americans.
In my 9th grade French class one of my classmates saw a black person in our textbook and exclaimed, "They have African Americans in France??" 🤦🏻♀️
I'm constantly called african American even though I've never stepped a foot in America.
My fourth grade students were reading a book set in Botswana. They kept referring to the characters as African American. I spent way too much time that day explaining that people from Africa are just African, and that it’s okay to say the word black.
I told a Columbian friend I was going to ask out a Spanish girl and he was like "oh nice, Latin American"...
I recall a TV announcer during the Olympics refer to the European black people as African Americans.
Unrelated, but during one of the Summer Olympics a few years back, one of the American announcers breathlessly declared that this was the first African American from X (where X is an African country) that has ever won this event.
I think they just universally substitute "African American" for "Black" in their mental dictionary and go from there. It's actually quite racist in itself, when you think about it.
When Lewis Hamilton won the F1 championship a few years back the American press services replaced him being the first black world champion as being the first African-American world champion. They issued an apology the next day
I remember several years ago, before the Atlanta Thrashers had moved to Winnipeg, CNN kept referring to all the Black players on Atlanta as African-Americans even though only one was American. One was Swedish and the rest Canadian. Yet for whatever reason CNN insisted on referring to them as African-American.
Who is the richest African American? Elon Musk
Technically Charlise Theron is African American
Another "funny" point. White Americans originating from Africa also get chastised if they identify themselves as "African Americans".
Read this: http://abcnews.go.com/US/story?id=7567291&page=1#.TyvhtONHhU0
Had a boss once that was born and raised in Morocco.
He became a US citizen in his 40 and would tell everyone he was an African American. He looked like he was from Spain.
He loved correcting his employees who used the term wrong.
'African American' is a term that has been divorced from its linguistic underpinnings in the United States almost entirely as a result of the culture of political correctness that has, in some ways, muddled racial dialogue in popular culture.
'African American' was ushered into favor in popular culture on the belief that it lacked any of the negative, racist, and/or superficial characteristics of terms used in the past. It was widely adopted for these very reasons. But the term's broad adoption is problematic because It designation as an appropriate term also had the effect of de-legitimizing other, more broad terms, rendering them implicitly racist or, at the very least, inappropriate. As a result of our society's desire to overcome racism and to be racially sensitive and politically correct, the term has become a favored blanket term to describe anyone that is Black, regardless of nationality, which leads people who are trying to be racially sensitive and politically correct to make minor gaffs like this all the time.
Ideally, culture should, in part, look to the speaker's intention when discerning whether a statement is racially offensive, rather than the word itself. This is not to say that the listener has no say in what is offensive - they certainly do, but a listener-centric system can have negative consequences on how we communicate. We allow for interpretive nuance in almost every other aspect of communication, but we are apprehensive to do the same when it comes to race. This is completely understandable given the history of race in the United States, but I can't help but feel that this apprehension, while having a positive impact early on, has limited constructive dialogue. This stymieing effect is, in part, illustrated by Mr. Elba's point.
I studied in London for a semester in college, and two of my (also American) flatmates once had a long conversation about differences between American African-Americans and English African-Americans. They were totally unaware they were describing English people as "-American"; It was clear that "African-American" was simply a word that meant "black" to them.
I've noticed Americans call all black people regardless of whether they're not American or African or either an African American, and it really ruffles my feathers. I remember seeing someone refer to a British Jamaican as an African American a while ago, and it's been playing on my mind ever since.
Blacks in America need to be called something.
The things they have been called have typically originated with those who are not black.
"African American" was popularized by Jesse Jackson during a period in which he was the leading black political figure in the US.
The term was picked up by the press, and there you go.
The term originated in this poem, which is based on word play involving the ends of both words, "ican", which is re-styled as "I can".
Whenever I hear the term I think of Jesse Jackson, who seems the type to discard a single syllable term in favor of a seven-syllable jaw-breaker.
Prevalence of the term has the amusing side-effect of causing Americans to become fearful of sounding racist when they have to refer to blacks who are not American, because there is a (mistaken) perception that "black" was discarded as racist. It just went out of style for political reasons.
I worked with a woman who was black and originally from England. I asked her if she would be considered 'African British'. She said, "we just say black".
Seppo exceptionlism. There was a KFC ad promoting an Australian cricket tour of the West Indies.
The white Australian guy wins over the locals, sharing his bucket of chicken. Americans got hold of it, and it's all African American this African American that.
Lost on them that the only American thing was the chicken brand. No comprehension that their stereotypes are not followed worldwide.
Didn't interviewers call John Boyega a "British African American"?
Not ethnicity related, but an example of the same /ImTheMainCharacter syndrome that exists a lot across the pond...
John Lennon was being questioned by a reporter in an interview who said something like, "There are people here in America that haven't taken to the way you look, some people have said that your haircuts are very unamerican."
John replied, "Well, that's very observant of them, because we aren't American".
One of the funniest things I've ever seen was a news anchor in the US talking about the riots in France and the French African Americans.
That's because in the US we are told not to apply critical and independent thinking but just use the label that we were most recently was told was correct or we are racist.
When Star Trek: Voyager was released, the Vulcan character Tuvok, played by Tim Russ, was described as an "African-American Vulcan".
Tuvok was a full blooded vulcan on both sides iirc, which means this makes even less sense than say, a half Vulcan character. Neither side of him is African OR American, never mind a combination of the two.
Still a great character tho.
Vanity Fair once published an article that said “Idris Elba would be the first African American James Bond if selected for the role.”
My mates parents are from Jamaica, but he was born in England, see himself as English but has a affinity to Jamaica. Ask him and he will say he’s English.
PC manager at work called him African American, pissed him right off, was calm and tried to explain he’s neither American nor African and not to call him that, he’s English, or if he wants to refer to race he’s black.
PC manager complained to HR, and my mate had to take nearly a hour to explain to four grown adults how Jamaica isn’t African and he’s fucking English.
It’s just horrible ignorance from people sometimes.
There's something really fucked up about someone trying to be politically correct and effectively telling your mate that his ideas about who he is are wrong.
Yup, was fuming afterwards. Talked about taking it further but he felt he finally got through to them and hoped it would never be repeated. We both fucked off not long after.
I would have reported to HR about the incident. Oh wait
I once met a girl from a country in Africa who told a similar story. She got called an African American at the airport (why this happened so casually is a terrible and dumb faux pas and I still can’t figure out how it was appropriate). Well, she completely confused the lady by responding with “No, I’m African African.”
Imagine how easy it must be applying for residency or citizenship when you already have American on your form.
I had a black friend at uni from south London. It was a while ago but I think his parents were Ghanaian. He would refer to himself as Anglo Blaxon.
When I was in the US I lived with a Jamaican guy who was offended every time he was called African American.
If I do a Google search for 'first black person in space', Google tells me that Guion Bluford, Jr. was the first African American in space.
He was indeed the first "African American" in space. However, he was not the first black person in space. That was Arnaldo Tamayo Méndez, an Afro-Cuban man who participated in Soviet space missions.
I worked in Afghanistan on a NATO base. One day the gate guards saw a black civilian contractor walk out of the gate and get snatched up by the Afghan Security Forces. The (American) security forces put out a call to everyone on base “Check your people, an African American man just got swept up and we need to know who it is”. Four hours pass with no response and then the British unit on base reported that one of their contractors hasn’t come back from lunch. The Americans said “why didn’t you respond to our urgent call???” To which the Brits obviously said “….. you said it was an African American.”
Yeah they are like that.. I have a friend he is black. He was being called african-argentinian by an american we know.
We tried to told them that here in argentina we don’t use the xxx-american like they do. Here you are either argentino or not, if you are white, black, yellow, pink is not a factor.
He said that it was racism, that we were trying to erase his roots….
I have a friend who is half Carribbean, half Swiss, but born and raised in the UK. She went to the US and got referred to as African American, and when she corrected them that she was neither African nor American they apparently got very angry at her and told her she was "denying her heritage". Smh.
The most uncomfortable meeting I ever attended was a global one, we went around the room introducing ourselves, great mix of cultures and experience, until it came to an american dude.
American Dude: I am an African American blah blah blah
Nigerian Dude: Excuse me Can you stop using that term please its offensive to me, your American
American Dude: WTF NO I have traced my heritage back to a tribe in central africa, I am a proud african american whose ancestors were sold into the slave trade by evil white colonists
Nigerian Dude: (big Nigerian belly laugh) Your ancestors were either to dumb or too slow to escape my tribe, we sold you to the white man. (more laughter)
and on it went. I was so glad that meeting ended.
I, as a american black person, hate those labels. I was born in America 42 years ago. Why can’t I just be an American? White people aren’t called European Americans. I’ve never even been to Africa and can’t tell you what region my ancestors from Africa come from. My family history, as far as I can trace, are all American born citizens. Doesn’t that just makes me American? I’ve never heard British American, Spanish American, or anything like that. I even hate the term Native American because I’m sure American wasn’t a thing when they first arrived there. If you’re born in America, just be American!
I had an American get angry at me when I described a friend as 'African' because he was from Nigeria.
"It's AFRICAN-AMERICAN you racist."
My coworker is from Haiti. Works 3 Jobs. He always wants to punch someone in the face if he is called African American.
I once argued with an American that Australian people of African descent were not in fact 'African American australians'. Its BIZARRE.
I corrected my boss for calling a woman African American when she was clearly English, but a black woman. He said that it was racist to call someone black… I can’t speak on behalf of the black community, but surely it’s more offensive to call an English person African American just because they’re black rather than calling them black???
I took an African American Studies course in college; for our final project I did a presentation on Dr. Daniel Hale Williams, an American surgeon. One of my classmates chose to do a presentation on Usain Bolt, who is Jamaican
This happened to Stephen K Amos:
"So you're African American?"
"No, I'm British."
"But you're black?"
"Y... Yes?"
Being called American is a slur tbh
Lenny Henry (English comedian) was once doing a gig in America and the announcer wanted to introduce him as African American. He pointed out that he is neither of those things and asked to be referred to as black instead. Announcer refused because it would be offensive.
YouTube Chris James - Black British accent (stand up comedy)
Gina Yashere Stopping the Police - Live at the Apollo - BBC One
Americans have a weird fetish about their roots and lineage
My first wife (who was American), once referred to a black squirrel as an 'African American Squirrel'. I still think about this.
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2024.05.12 11:43 struggalogamer Troubled Teen Industry, my story
I am sharing this as an emotional outlet among other siblings in christMy Experience It was January 10, 2011. I’ll never forget that date. It was the day my life changed. Also it was the day of the college football national championship. I was and still am a big college football fan (Go Cal Bears!). Oregon was set to play auburn and i was going to watch it with my neighbor two doors down. I had been doing poorly in school, and yeah was a big pot head, still am, but am much more responsible. Anyways i told myself this semester i was going to actually try in school. I woke up at six am to get ready for my day, something that i never do. I went to put on my shoes and i noticed the laces were missing. Immediately i went to my mom and asked where are my laces? She wouldn’t give me an answer and was just acting so strange. Eventually she left the house and as she was leaving two men were walking up our walkway. I figured they were plumbers considering we had plumbing issues recently. They walked in and before I knew it they walked up to me on either side and slammed me to the ground and handcuffed me. I didn’t react as it was, I didn’t expect it for one, and for two when it began I froze, I didn’t know what to do. Once on the ground I started to squirm, I screamed “Please Help me help me I’m being kidnapped! Please!” They responded No use in screaming no one can hear you. I kept screaming. One of them said go ahead get it over with when your quiet it’ll be over sooner. After probably about ten minutes, I realized no use in fighting, they helped me up and walked me to a small suv and put me in the back and put the seat belt on me. This was the beginning. I remember on the way up to Yoncalla Oregon from Sacramento California we stopped at a burger king. They offered to get me some but food was the last thing on my mind. Looking back I wish I had taken up the offer. I remember being by the ashtray seeing a half smoked cigarette and asking to smoke it, they said I couldn’t. After a long drive we got there they walked me in. The whole way I talked about how I’d get away and run away. Well of course they told the staff at Scott Valley. By the way this is the perfect point to say I was sent to Scott Valley School in Yoncalla, Oregon. One of the many so called trouble teen schools. So being told I had threatened to run away I was put on runaway watch. For about two weeks I was forced to sleep under a light. I obviously didn’t get much sleep. Also I always had two higher phase watchers who would stand on each side of me. They had phases there was like five or six I believe. Most were 2 and 1. There were like 3 phase 3’s and 1 phase 5. There was like 20-30 of us at a time. Anyway where do I start. As I write this, with the emotions and ptsd it comes in full force and yet hazy at the same time. Maybe my head trying to protect me? So I was there seven months, thank god thats it. There were people that had been there years. Some of the people there, my god, I don’t know what to say. From a 12 year old who molested his 1 year old brother and put fish hooks in his carpet so his parents would step on it, to kids that were in there later teens who had used hard drugs, kids that had been molested and acted out as a result, kids that just were wilding out period, a lot of different walks. After I got off of runaway watch I got back on it within two weeks. I was in trouble sitting at the essay table while pe was going on. So one of the punishments was writing essays. But anyway there were two other kids at the table, the twelve year old i mentioned above and the only black kid there on the boys side. I looked at them and said if we worked together we could escape this place. They both just dead stared at me. When it was time to line up, the 12 year old went away first, the other kid looked at me and said were gonna get in trouble, that kid is a snitch and is going to tell on you. He was right. I got put on the “wall” because of that. For two weeks when not eating, sleeping, or using the bathroom, I was staring at a wall were a dot was drawn with a piece of paper on it. I would just let my imagination run wild while this happened thinking about home, friends, family, make believe countries governments politics, anything to keep the mind entertained or semi at peace! There was a green jacket my parents sent up for me that was my grandpa on my mothers side. Grandpa Applegate. It was a super cool green jacket with fake fure on the color, it looked like something you’d wear in the winter in Moscow. They said it had too many pockets and I could hide things in it. So they took it away. They put it in the Pod where all of our extra stuff was stored. Well one pod day where we could exchange stuff, there was a different staff member on duty then the one who said I couldn’t wear it. So i got it out and he didn’t know so i got to wear it for a bit. So when the other staff member got back on shift, he saw the jacket. I was banned from wearing a sweatshirt of any kind for a month. When we had outside pe everyday in Febuary to March I would get so cold. When I would put my hands in my shirt I would get another essay. This is Central Oregon, it gets cold that time of year! So some facts about the living situation, you had three minutes for showers and bathroom. You go over that you get an essay. You get more time the higher phase you get. You ever take a shit in three minutes? If done successfully I commend you. I would go five days without shitting because one of the night workers a guy named Johnny would not keep track of time when I’d get up to ask the restroom in the early morning. Johnny was an angel in a sense. Taking an uninterrupted shit was some of the most bliss I could get. Not trying to be gross but when using the restroom even was so restricted, being able to use the restroom not timed felt like hitting the lotto. When we’d wake up at seven am we only had 1 min to get up and make our bed, timed, if we didn’t make it wed get an essay. I’m naming these things as I remember different events, not necessarily in chronological order, but different events that happened. I had a peach fuzz mustache i was so proud of and long curly hair. They gave me a buzz cut and forced me to shave. My dad sent my grandpa Andrews old electric razor. That’s my dads dad. My biggest hero in my life. His name I got tatted on me at 19. I write this at 29. He died when I was 9. Most of the other kids had razors you could charge, mine needed to be plugged in to work, I didn’t understand that. I had never shaved to begin with, so I thought it was broken. I threw it away and put in a request for a new one. My father told them it was a plug in, but it was already to late so he needed to order me a new one. At a group therapy session thing, yeah we did that every day, and none of the people working there had any degrees that could go to the field they were working in. Anyway my writing is not perfect so as I was saying, at a group therapy thing, Jad one of the main guys working there brought up the razor, he said I knew it wasn’t broken, but I just wanted a new one. You don’t love your grandpa youre just a selfish little bitch. Those words still are ingrained in my mind. I know they are false but god damn they hurt. I cried. As I cried he just continued to tell me how selfish I am and im a bitch a pussy etc. William Frederick Andrews was my grandfathers name, as said I got it tatted on me at 19. He was born 1924, in 2024, my first child, a son, was born, William Frederick Andrews II. I call that a moral victory. Crazy how it worked out to be a 100 year difference. Another time it was 420, I cried because I wanted to smoke and he called me out on it in group therapy. He called me a bitch, a pussy, the usual. Weird things happened there, like one time they did a “fire drill” in the middle of the night, we had to go out into the cold in our underwear for five minutes until it was over. There were girls there but they were in a separate area. When they walked by or vice versa we had to look the other way. One of the many reasons it got shut down is there was a case of a student raping another. Apparently the girl who reported it got hounded in group therapy to the point she recanted. Now I could be wrong, but I think I know the person who did it, only one guy from the male side reached level five to the point where he became staff and could go to the girl side for group therapy. I don’t know for sure but that’s what i assume. At one point they were building a new building and they had us digging the ground around it for construction. Yeah they had us do all the cleaning indoors and out doors. If you were bad you could have your school privileges taken away. I had one kid who was a phase above me copy my work. He got caught. He got demoted, and got repromoted before I left. I never got past phase 1. So phase 1 red shirt. Phase 2 green shirt. Phase 3 Blue shirt. Phase 4 and above whatever you want. Like I said a lot of this is not in order. I am writing this in one go after years of talking about it to my loved ones. Put my thoughts to the pen, or keyboard in this case. So they did this thing were it was like a week, where it was the program or some weird name. They would break you down and “build you up” you would get a demeaning name for a week and then get an empowering name. I got the picture that if you were just a weed smoking low grade getting teen, you wouldn’t be ever seen as getting progress, you had to have “admitting to a bad act” of some sort. I made a story about how I let a girl cut me and drink my blood and how I thought about killing my dad. I know, like why would one lie and say that?!, well I figured if I had said I had done that and then shown to be turned good, it would reward me as changed and out that place. Looking back im like what the fuck. But I just wanted out and I was sure as hell willing to lie my way out. So yeah i went by like blood sucker or something like that for a week, but thats not bad. I remember so well one girl who was adopted and had relations with several boys back where she was from, she got sent there for that, and her name for the week was “Orphan Whore”. Also there were other students who weren’t going through the program that were involved with the process. Elon school or something like that where students yell at other students all sorts of insulting shit The end of it I reclaimed my name or whatever and they had me do like a ballet dance kind of weird thing to show rebirth, not that ballets weird, but in this scenario, yeah. I remember there was a day they said the world was going to end, someday in May 2011 some random wacko said, it made headlines as a joke more than anything, but i remember hearing it and hoping it happens because I wanted out. There was a gym there with rafters. I used to dream of hanging myself from them to get out. I dreamed about a car driving into the school and opening a wall up so we could run away. They used to tell us if we ran away there is bear and cougars out there, if they dont get us the cops will, and theyll put us in juvi just to have us sent back when out. They had these things called group essays. If someone did something and it no one admitted to it wed all have to write an essay about how we could have prevented it. One time a kid wiped shit on all the walls in the bathroom, the kid never admitted to it so we all had to write an essay on how we could have prevented it. I remember one time going to use the bathroom there was semen on the toilet seat, lol teen boys sex drive. I just wiped it off before I sat down. One time late at night I was masterbating in my bed. There was 20 of us sleeping in bunks in the same room, the kid who ended up copying my work i mentioned, saw me making some um, sheet movements, and looked my way giving me a dirty look, i just rolled over pretending like i was scratching, oh snap, almost caught. Not trying to be disgusting, teenage boys, find one that doesn’t masterbate, and i’ll give you some ocean beach front property in Kansas. You got weekly phone calls with your parents, you never dared to say what was going on because they were always listening. Letters same, they read them, so no use in saying something, they’ll just read it and throw it away, later my father asked me why didn’t you tell me what was going on? Well… My gf at the time ended up getting a bf after 6 months of waiting, i don’t blame her. Hey it was teenage love so im not hurt, but at the time it hurt because neither of us willingly ended it. She sent me a bookmark to have up there, it had us kissing on it, they took it from me for it being sexually explicit. They banned me from sitting up in bed and praying. I was atheist from 12 to 27 except for that time, i came back to my faith, praying for my exodus. I’m a christian again now, but only after I found a denomination that was open and affirming because I’m bisexual. Thinking about this, my mind can’t explain the pain, the rain of emotional trauma that falls in my cranium. Many times I’ve turned to cocaine, liquor, and suicidal thoughts because of the pain. It fucked my whole concept of everything in life. My emotions, my understanding of control of my own life, my ability to have healthy relationships, just so much. I still have dreams of being back there and wake up with nightmares, I was sixteen then, i turn 30 this year thirty, i have a beautiful amazing wife, a son who is the biggest blessing in my life, like i got it together now, but I don’t still, obvious by writing this. I remember one time getting to get my glasses prescription. They had to take me to town, the eye doctor, i thought about coming to him for help, but I thought if he works with these people, hell just report me to them, not them to authorities. My grandpa applegate, my moms dad, he died of suicide while I was gone, diagnosed with a terminal cancer he took it into his own hands. I never got to say good bye. When his funeral happened I wasn’t brought home for it, no, I was allowed to “write a letter to be read”. I wrote a letter, and it got read and a lot of family members said how deep it was and mature, I till this day have never watched the funeral video, I can’t. Because I should have been there. When I was on the wall, lookin towards the window could get me in trouble, because it was considered plotting an escape. I read in an english class I know where the caged bird sings, it became my favorite poem because I would watch the birds on the outside of the window and see how free they were. The joy of that. I was a juggalo, they banned me of talking anything icp related. I’d hum icp songs in protest, not like they knew them, also still a juggalo, two scoops of whoop. They day my dad came to get me, well I was peeing, and when I got out I saw him by the front door which was not far from the restroom, I ran up and hugged him saying oh my god dad! I love you! I started crying. He took to the place I always heard the workers there talk about a place called the Sugar Shack, a donut shop. Gosh dang good donuts! Then he took me to some cousins on the coast of oregon. Two days being out I was running on the beaches of the oregon coast. The sand in my feet, the breeze, the feeling of freedom. Scotts Valley School was shut down i think in 2016 for child abuse, i will link articles, but damn that place will forever haunt my head. The bats of the cave of my mind. I am married now with a family. I do my best to be a strong individual and provide, but this place has forever scared me and left me feeling weak. I couldn’t protect myself, so now I want to do everything to protect my family and be there for them. Scotts Valley school, I now live in a place called Scott Valley, the geographic area name, all come full circle? There is probably a lot more I could add to this, but for now, I just wanted to write down the bare minimum. If you have read this, thank you. I have found peace in my mind, heart, and soul as much as I can, and I hope those who have gone through similar ordeals can find some semblance of peace in their existence as well. I thank Jesus for keeping me hopeful in times I wanted to die. God bless you all.
2024.05.12 11:29 struggalogamer Scotts Valley School Yoncalla, Oregon (closed)
My ExperienceIt was January 10, 2011. I’ll never forget that date. It was the day my life changed. Also it was the day of the college football national championship. I was and still am a big college football fan (Go Cal Bears!). Oregon was set to play auburn and i was going to watch it with my neighbor two doors down. I had been doing poorly in school, and yeah was a big pot head, still am, but am much more responsible. Anyways i told myself this semester i was going to actually try in school. I woke up at six am to get ready for my day, something that i never do. I went to put on my shoes and i noticed the laces were missing. Immediately i went to my mom and asked where are my laces? She wouldn’t give me an answer and was just acting so strange. Eventually she left the house and as she was leaving two men were walking up our walkway. I figured they were plumbers considering we had plumbing issues recently. They walked in and before I knew it they walked up to me on either side and slammed me to the ground and handcuffed me. I didn’t react as it was, I didn’t expect it for one, and for two when it began I froze, I didn’t know what to do. Once on the ground I started to squirm, I screamed “Please Help me help me I’m being kidnapped! Please!” They responded No use in screaming no one can hear you. I kept screaming. One of them said go ahead get it over with when your quiet it’ll be over sooner. After probably about ten minutes, I realized no use in fighting, they helped me up and walked me to a small suv and put me in the back and put the seat belt on me. This was the beginning. I remember on the way up to Yoncalla Oregon from Sacramento California we stopped at a burger king. They offered to get me some but food was the last thing on my mind. Looking back I wish I had taken up the offer. I remember being by the ashtray seeing a half smoked cigarette and asking to smoke it, they said I couldn’t. After a long drive we got there they walked me in. The whole way I talked about how I’d get away and run away. Well of course they told the staff at Scott Valley. By the way this is the perfect point to say I was sent to Scott Valley School in Yoncalla, Oregon. One of the many so called trouble teen schools. So being told I had threatened to run away I was put on runaway watch. For about two weeks I was forced to sleep under a light. I obviously didn’t get much sleep. Also I always had two higher phase watchers who would stand on each side of me. They had phases there was like five or six I believe. Most were 2 and 1. There were like 3 phase 3’s and 1 phase 5. There was like 20-30 of us at a time. Anyway where do I start. As I write this, with the emotions and ptsd it comes in full force and yet hazy at the same time. Maybe my head trying to protect me? So I was there seven months, thank god thats it. There were people that had been there years. Some of the people there, my god, I don’t know what to say. From a 12 year old who molested his 1 year old brother and put fish hooks in his carpet so his parents would step on it, to kids that were in there later teens who had used hard drugs, kids that had been molested and acted out as a result, kids that just were wilding out period, a lot of different walks. After I got off of runaway watch I got back on it within two weeks. I was in trouble sitting at the essay table while pe was going on. So one of the punishments was writing essays. But anyway there were two other kids at the table, the twelve year old i mentioned above and the only black kid there on the boys side. I looked at them and said if we worked together we could escape this place. They both just dead stared at me. When it was time to line up, the 12 year old went away first, the other kid looked at me and said were gonna get in trouble, that kid is a snitch and is going to tell on you. He was right. I got put on the “wall” because of that. For two weeks when not eating, sleeping, or using the bathroom, I was staring at a wall were a dot was drawn with a piece of paper on it. I would just let my imagination run wild while this happened thinking about home, friends, family, make believe countries governments politics, anything to keep the mind entertained or semi at peace! There was a green jacket my parents sent up for me that was my grandpa on my mothers side. Grandpa Applegate. It was a super cool green jacket with fake fure on the color, it looked like something you’d wear in the winter in Moscow. They said it had too many pockets and I could hide things in it. So they took it away. They put it in the Pod where all of our extra stuff was stored. Well one pod day where we could exchange stuff, there was a different staff member on duty then the one who said I couldn’t wear it. So i got it out and he didn’t know so i got to wear it for a bit. So when the other staff member got back on shift, he saw the jacket. I was banned from wearing a sweatshirt of any kind for a month. When we had outside pe everyday in Febuary to March I would get so cold. When I would put my hands in my shirt I would get another essay. This is Central Oregon, it gets cold that time of year! So some facts about the living situation, you had three minutes for showers and bathroom. You go over that you get an essay. You get more time the higher phase you get. You ever take a shit in three minutes? If done successfully I commend you. I would go five days without shitting because one of the night workers a guy named Johnny would not keep track of time when I’d get up to ask the restroom in the early morning. Johnny was an angel in a sense. Taking an uninterrupted shit was some of the most bliss I could get. Not trying to be gross but when using the restroom even was so restricted, being able to use the restroom not timed felt like hitting the lotto. When we’d wake up at seven am we only had 1 min to get up and make our bed, timed, if we didn’t make it wed get an essay. I’m naming these things as I remember different events, not necessarily in chronological order, but different events that happened. I had a peach fuzz mustache i was so proud of and long curly hair. They gave me a buzz cut and forced me to shave. My dad sent my grandpa Andrews old electric razor. That’s my dads dad. My biggest hero in my life. His name I got tatted on me at 19. I write this at 29. He died when I was 9. Most of the other kids had razors you could charge, mine needed to be plugged in to work, I didn’t understand that. I had never shaved to begin with, so I thought it was broken. I threw it away and put in a request for a new one. My father told them it was a plug in, but it was already to late so he needed to order me a new one. At a group therapy session thing, yeah we did that every day, and none of the people working there had any degrees that could go to the field they were working in. Anyway my writing is not perfect so as I was saying, at a group therapy thing, Jad one of the main guys working there brought up the razor, he said I knew it wasn’t broken, but I just wanted a new one. You don’t love your grandpa youre just a selfish little bitch. Those words still are ingrained in my mind. I know they are false but god damn they hurt. I cried. As I cried he just continued to tell me how selfish I am and im a bitch a pussy etc. William Frederick Andrews was my grandfathers name, as said I got it tatted on me at 19. He was born 1924, in 2024, my first child, a son, was born, William Frederick Andrews II. I call that a moral victory. Crazy how it worked out to be a 100 year difference. Another time it was 420, I cried because I wanted to smoke and he called me out on it in group therapy. He called me a bitch, a pussy, the usual. Weird things happened there, like one time they did a “fire drill” in the middle of the night, we had to go out into the cold in our underwear for five minutes until it was over. There were girls there but they were in a separate area. When they walked by or vice versa we had to look the other way. One of the many reasons it got shut down is there was a case of a student raping another. Apparently the girl who reported it got hounded in group therapy to the point she recanted. Now I could be wrong, but I think I know the person who did it, only one guy from the male side reached level five to the point where he became staff and could go to the girl side for group therapy. I don’t know for sure but that’s what i assume. At one point they were building a new building and they had us digging the ground around it for construction. Yeah they had us do all the cleaning indoors and out doors. If you were bad you could have your school privileges taken away. I had one kid who was a phase above me copy my work. He got caught. He got demoted, and got repromoted before I left. I never got past phase 1. So phase 1 red shirt. Phase 2 green shirt. Phase 3 Blue shirt. Phase 4 and above whatever you want. Like I said a lot of this is not in order. I am writing this in one go after years of talking about it to my loved ones. Put my thoughts to the pen, or keyboard in this case. So they did this thing were it was like a week, where it was the program or some weird name. They would break you down and “build you up” you would get a demeaning name for a week and then get an empowering name. I got the picture that if you were just a weed smoking low grade getting teen, you wouldn’t be ever seen as getting progress, you had to have “admitting to a bad act” of some sort. I made a story about how I let a girl cut me and drink my blood and how I thought about killing my dad. I know, like why would one lie and say that?!, well I figured if I had said I had done that and then shown to be turned good, it would reward me as changed and out that place. Looking back im like what the fuck. But I just wanted out and I was sure as hell willing to lie my way out. So yeah i went by like blood sucker or something like that for a week, but thats not bad. I remember so well one girl who was adopted and had relations with several boys back where she was from, she got sent there for that, and her name for the week was “Orphan Whore”. Also there were other students who weren’t going through the program that were involved with the process. Elon school or something like that where students yell at other students all sorts of insulting shit The end of it I reclaimed my name or whatever and they had me do like a ballet dance kind of weird thing to show rebirth, not that ballets weird, but in this scenario, yeah. I remember there was a day they said the world was going to end, someday in May 2011 some random wacko said, it made headlines as a joke more than anything, but i remember hearing it and hoping it happens because I wanted out. There was a gym there with rafters. I used to dream of hanging myself from them to get out. I dreamed about a car driving into the school and opening a wall up so we could run away. They used to tell us if we ran away there is bear and cougars out there, if they dont get us the cops will, and theyll put us in juvi just to have us sent back when out. They had these things called group essays. If someone did something and it no one admitted to it wed all have to write an essay about how we could have prevented it. One time a kid wiped shit on all the walls in the bathroom, the kid never admitted to it so we all had to write an essay on how we could have prevented it. I remember one time going to use the bathroom there was semen on the toilet seat, lol teen boys sex drive. I just wiped it off before I sat down. One time late at night I was masterbating in my bed. There was 20 of us sleeping in bunks in the same room, the kid who ended up copying my work i mentioned, saw me making some um, sheet movements, and looked my way giving me a dirty look, i just rolled over pretending like i was scratching, oh snap, almost caught. Not trying to be disgusting, teenage boys, find one that doesn’t masterbate, and i’ll give you some ocean beach front property in Kansas. You got weekly phone calls with your parents, you never dared to say what was going on because they were always listening. Letters same, they read them, so no use in saying something, they’ll just read it and throw it away, later my father asked me why didn’t you tell me what was going on? Well… My gf at the time ended up getting a bf after 6 months of waiting, i don’t blame her. Hey it was teenage love so im not hurt, but at the time it hurt because neither of us willingly ended it. She sent me a bookmark to have up there, it had us kissing on it, they took it from me for it being sexually explicit. They banned me from sitting up in bed and praying. I was atheist from 12 to 27 except for that time, i came back to my faith, praying for my exodus. I’m a christian again now, but only after I found a denomination that was open and affirming because I’m bisexual. Thinking about this, my mind can’t explain the pain, the rain of emotional trauma that falls in my cranium. Many times I’ve turned to cocaine, liquor, and suicidal thoughts because of the pain. It fucked my whole concept of everything in life. My emotions, my understanding of control of my own life, my ability to have healthy relationships, just so much. I still have dreams of being back there and wake up with nightmares, I was sixteen then, i turn 30 this year thirty, i have a beautiful amazing wife, a son who is the biggest blessing in my life, like i got it together now, but I don’t still, obvious by writing this. I remember one time getting to get my glasses prescription. They had to take me to town, the eye doctor, i thought about coming to him for help, but I thought if he works with these people, hell just report me to them, not them to authorities. My grandpa applegate, my moms dad, he died of suicide while I was gone, diagnosed with a terminal cancer he took it into his own hands. I never got to say good bye. When his funeral happened I wasn’t brought home for it, no, I was allowed to “write a letter to be read”. I wrote a letter, and it got read and a lot of family members said how deep it was and mature, I till this day have never watched the funeral video, I can’t. Because I should have been there. When I was on the wall, lookin towards the window could get me in trouble, because it was considered plotting an escape. I read in an english class I know where the caged bird sings, it became my favorite poem because I would watch the birds on the outside of the window and see how free they were. The joy of that. I was a juggalo, they banned me of talking anything icp related. I’d hum icp songs in protest, not like they knew them, also still a juggalo, two scoops of whoop. They day my dad came to get me, well I was peeing, and when I got out I saw him by the front door which was not far from the restroom, I ran up and hugged him saying oh my god dad! I love you! I started crying. He took to the place I always heard the workers there talk about a place called the Sugar Shack, a donut shop. Gosh dang good donuts! Then he took me to some cousins on the coast of oregon. Two days being out I was running on the beaches of the oregon coast. The sand in my feet, the breeze, the feeling of freedom. Scotts Valley School was shut down i think in 2016 for child abuse, i will link articles, but damn that place will forever haunt my head. The bats of the cave of my mind. I am married now with a family. I do my best to be a strong individual and provide, but this place has forever scared me and left me feeling weak. I couldn’t protect myself, so now I want to do everything to protect my family and be there for them. Scotts Valley school, I now live in a place called Scott Valley, the geographic area name, all come full circle? There is probably a lot more I could add to this, but for now, I just wanted to write down the bare minimum. If you have read this, thank you. I have found peace in my mind, heart, and soul as much as I can, and I hope those who have gone through similar ordeals can find some semblance of peace in their existence as well. I thank Jesus for keeping me hopeful in times I wanted to die. God bless you all.
2024.05.10 14:51 adulting4kids Holiday Poetry
2024.05.09 03:16 SuperSL8585 Another LEQ!
2024.05.08 07:22 Poopscoopandwoop Can anyone grade my practice LEQ for APWH pls.
submitted by Poopscoopandwoop to APStudents [link] [comments] |
2024.05.03 15:26 langug3sperz43 Offering English 🇺🇸 (C2/native) Seeking Spanish 🇲🇽 (C2/native)
2024.05.03 14:51 adulting4kids Holiday Poetry
2024.04.27 18:29 Gohantrash You must choose between eating only new world or old world foods for the rest of your life
2024.04.26 19:18 ewk rZen podcast: Wumenguan 18: HEMP YOURSELF
2024.04.26 14:51 adulting4kids Holiday Poetry
2024.04.25 10:35 ar_belzagar Johan's selected forum posts #10, the biggest one up until now! Unique buildings, Columbian exchange, gold and silver being treated like trade goods, stockpiling, polders for the Dutch! Sorry for the ugliness of some of the screenshots. Johan talks too much.
submitted by ar_belzagar to paradoxplaza [link] [comments] |