I grew up on a commune, most are probably great, mine wasn't. In mine people were basically brainwashed and lived in fear. I know I did.
Our school was where most of us were affected and what I mean by that is that we were emotionally damaged from it. There were a lot of politics going on. Some kids never got punished, We called them the elites. Most got punished in normal traditional ways and then there were those kids whose families were on the list. We were treated like trash by the teachers and the students alike.
I wasn't affected till we got on the list, which happened when I was in Jr. High. The first time ever for me was when I was told I was going to get swats after lunch. I got into the position and then the teacher told me to take my pants down, underwear too. He said that the longer I refused, the more swats I was going to get. I got ten hard swats on my bare bottom in front of the class. I think my face was as red as my behind.
It would have been one thing if only the teachers administered the punishments but all too often they would shame us all the more by letting our classmates punish us as well.
There were things we dreaded more than the rest and the teachers knew what they were and used the fear of them to keep us in line. One was to have to stand up against the corner of the teachers desk with our genitals resting on top of the corner. We were made to close our eyes and wait. We wouldn't know if our parts would get whacked with the ruler or the pointer and you wouldn't know when or who would do it. Certain students were known to be the mean ones. They hoped to get chosen and often did. We just hoped it wouldn't be one of them and that it wouldn't be with the pointer.
Girls got pepper or Ben Gay rubbed into their vagina crack, almost always by the teacher if he was male. It took a little time before they got the effect of it but it was probably as bad as what the boys got.
Another feared thing was what we called the Rhino horn. It was a chair with a hole drilled in the middle of it and a cut off broom handle put up through the hole. We were told to take our pants down and sit on that thing. We would try to keep ourself up but our legs would get tired and in time our butt cheeks would be flush with the seat. We wouldn't be able to wiggle one bit and everyone knew it. If we were really bad it was coated with Ben Gay and everyone knew that too. There were other things done too but they are too bad to put on a site like this but I think you get the idea.
That commune closed down six years after we left. I heard that some of the leaders had been prosecuted but others who should have been weren't.
If any of you who went to that school want to get together and talk you can find me at Swizzlers Coffee Shop on November 11 and December 3, 2004. The same Swizzlers that's always been there. I'll be there from 7am till 8am. I wear a Cubs baseball hat so you can't miss me.
Our school was where most of us were affected and what I mean by that is that we were emotionally damaged from it. There were a lot of politics going on. Some kids never got punished, We called them the elites. Most got punished in normal traditional ways and then there were those kids whose families were on the list. We were treated like trash by the teachers and the students alike.
I wasn't affected till we got on the list, which happened when I was in Jr. High. The first time ever for me was when I was told I was going to get swats after lunch. I got into the position and then the teacher told me to take my pants down, underwear too. He said that the longer I refused, the more swats I was going to get. I got ten hard swats on my bare bottom in front of the class. I think my face was as red as my behind.
It would have been one thing if only the teachers administered the punishments but all too often they would shame us all the more by letting our classmates punish us as well.
There were things we dreaded more than the rest and the teachers knew what they were and used the fear of them to keep us in line. One was to have to stand up against the corner of the teachers desk with our genitals resting on top of the corner. We were made to close our eyes and wait. We wouldn't know if our parts would get whacked with the ruler or the pointer and you wouldn't know when or who would do it. Certain students were known to be the mean ones. They hoped to get chosen and often did. We just hoped it wouldn't be one of them and that it wouldn't be with the pointer.
Girls got pepper or Ben Gay rubbed into their vagina crack, almost always by the teacher if he was male. It took a little time before they got the effect of it but it was probably as bad as what the boys got.
Another feared thing was what we called the Rhino horn. It was a chair with a hole drilled in the middle of it and a cut off broom handle put up through the hole. We were told to take our pants down and sit on that thing. We would try to keep ourself up but our legs would get tired and in time our butt cheeks would be flush with the seat. We wouldn't be able to wiggle one bit and everyone knew it. If we were really bad it was coated with Ben Gay and everyone knew that too. There were other things done too but they are too bad to put on a site like this but I think you get the idea.
That commune closed down six years after we left. I heard that some of the leaders had been prosecuted but others who should have been weren't.
If any of you who went to that school want to get together and talk you can find me at Swizzlers Coffee Shop on November 11 and December 3, 2004. The same Swizzlers that's always been there. I'll be there from 7am till 8am. I wear a Cubs baseball hat so you can't miss me.
