I was 16. 2:00 AM. 2 men. Too late. Too slow. To Maine. Highway. Byway. Dirt road. Horrible drive. Even worse arrival...
—Opening lines
GENERAL MEETING!!!
—Throughout the chapters, this line is stated. This causes teens to get up and yell at someone collectively.
Peter silently sized me up, then clenched his fist and burst out screaming. This kind of aggression towards lower ranks was common in Elan and was known as a "blast."
Peter: Listen up motherfucker. And don't just hear the words. Understand them. Just because we're leaving Elan don't mean Elan ends. You keep your fucking conversations light or the visit will end. You sit in the back of the car with me. Your position in every room is with me between you and any exit. You don't go one-on-one with your parents. As a matter of fact, you and me are like glue now. You go more than a foot away from me, the visit ends. And I will take you down if you try anything. And Ron will back me up. It's happened before. I've been S.P.'ing a lot of visits and I ain't never come back alone. You think you've seen the worst of Elan, you haven't. And you don't want to, trust me. It ain't personal, Joe. You got a sister, right? Well so do I? And a brother. And I ain't putting you above them. Or my freedom. I got charges too and if ain't graduate Elan, I go back to that judge like 3 years in this hell-hole meant nothing. So how 'bout you and me eat some real food, swim in the hotel pool, take hot showers as long as we want. That hotel has Cinemax porn after midnight, I know that for a fact. Elan makes everyone stay in the same one. And them hotel employees are on the payroll too, Jay Cirri owns this whole town, cops and everything. He's running for governor of the state even. There ain't no escape so just be happy to be free for a minute. We cool?
Joe: You don't gotta worry about me, Peter. I totally get it, seriously.
Peter: Listen up motherfucker. And don't just hear the words. Understand them. Just because we're leaving Elan don't mean Elan ends. You keep your fucking conversations light or the visit will end. You sit in the back of the car with me. Your position in every room is with me between you and any exit. You don't go one-on-one with your parents. As a matter of fact, you and me are like glue now. You go more than a foot away from me, the visit ends. And I will take you down if you try anything. And Ron will back me up. It's happened before. I've been S.P.'ing a lot of visits and I ain't never come back alone. You think you've seen the worst of Elan, you haven't. And you don't want to, trust me. It ain't personal, Joe. You got a sister, right? Well so do I? And a brother. And I ain't putting you above them. Or my freedom. I got charges too and if ain't graduate Elan, I go back to that judge like 3 years in this hell-hole meant nothing. So how 'bout you and me eat some real food, swim in the hotel pool, take hot showers as long as we want. That hotel has Cinemax porn after midnight, I know that for a fact. Elan makes everyone stay in the same one. And them hotel employees are on the payroll too, Jay Cirri owns this whole town, cops and everything. He's running for governor of the state even. There ain't no escape so just be happy to be free for a minute. We cool?
Joe: You don't gotta worry about me, Peter. I totally get it, seriously.
Barrel rolling out of a car going sixty down the highway may be presented as a common occurrence in action movies and superhero comics, but unfortunately this is a story rooted in reality.
And reality is heart-breaking.
It's easy to imagine yourself into a complex situation and play-out what you would do if it were you. Because the difference between imagining being there versus actually being there, is like the difference between reading a love poem versus actually being in love.
Understanding that difference is the key to understanding this story.
Or any true story of surviving trauma and abuse.
And reality is heart-breaking.
It's easy to imagine yourself into a complex situation and play-out what you would do if it were you. Because the difference between imagining being there versus actually being there, is like the difference between reading a love poem versus actually being in love.
Understanding that difference is the key to understanding this story.
Or any true story of surviving trauma and abuse.
WELL IF YOU'RE FEELING FROGGY.. (Joe and Ron briefly switch places) THEN... (Joe is completely replaced by Ron) LEAP!
About a year ago, I had just been another teenager. Not very popular, but with some great friends.
And we'd come up with a stupid idea that we believed wouldn't hurt anyone.
And I still believed in things like justice and freedom.
And that I was one of the luckiest kids in the world because I had been born in a country where no matter how bad it got, it could never get that bad.
And there was no such thing as rampant for-profit corruption...and there was no such thing as industries designed to cage and torture the most helpless in our society and to take advantage of the system in every possible way...because human beings would never choose something like money over the life and innocence of a child.
Right?
And we'd come up with a stupid idea that we believed wouldn't hurt anyone.
And I still believed in things like justice and freedom.
And that I was one of the luckiest kids in the world because I had been born in a country where no matter how bad it got, it could never get that bad.
And there was no such thing as rampant for-profit corruption...and there was no such thing as industries designed to cage and torture the most helpless in our society and to take advantage of the system in every possible way...because human beings would never choose something like money over the life and innocence of a child.
Right?
Truly, the hardest thing about my life after Elan was the weight of holding it all inside...alone. But you know, that freedom still tasted so sweet.
I've said it before and I will say it again, there is no feeling on earth like having your freedom taken away. So if you are sitting somewhere right now and you can get up without permission...appreciate it.
I've said it before and I will say it again, there is no feeling on earth like having your freedom taken away. So if you are sitting somewhere right now and you can get up without permission...appreciate it.
They ran a very successful propaganda campaign. Cirri even had the press referring to Elan as "the Rolls Royce of adolescent treatment programs."
Yes, the same Elan where the residents lived in squalor, did all the cooking, cleaning, and security themselves, and even administered Elan's twisted version of "therapy" to each other, either out of fear, the hopes of being rewarded with basic needs like food or sleep, or due to the ration of brainwashing that would make North Korea look like amateurs.
For fucks sake. The Rolls Royce of treatment???
Yes, the same Elan where the residents lived in squalor, did all the cooking, cleaning, and security themselves, and even administered Elan's twisted version of "therapy" to each other, either out of fear, the hopes of being rewarded with basic needs like food or sleep, or due to the ration of brainwashing that would make North Korea look like amateurs.
For fucks sake. The Rolls Royce of treatment???
[...]
"Getting on [Jay's] good side was the whole name of the game..."
But the flip side of that coin was that it takes the slightest little thing to piss him off, and he gets mad at you, forget it,
But the flip side of that coin was that it takes the slightest little thing to piss him off, and he gets mad at you, forget it,
because he just doesn't forgive."
As Ron walked me out I happened to glance over and locked eyes with an older girl.
She looked at me with such disappointment and pity in her eyes, that it broke me out of whatever spell I'd been under.
Maybe it's because my brain was still feeling the aftershocks of an adrenaline-inspired nervous breakdown...but in that girl's stare, I saw my sister looking back at me...
And it hurt.
I often fantasized that I was at home, telling my sister everything I'd went through. This mental exercise represented one of the pillars of my sanity.
But how would I ever explain my actions on this day?
The following morning I was promoted to coordinator. And looking back now, I can truly pinpoint this event as the moment my mind snapped...
She looked at me with such disappointment and pity in her eyes, that it broke me out of whatever spell I'd been under.
Maybe it's because my brain was still feeling the aftershocks of an adrenaline-inspired nervous breakdown...but in that girl's stare, I saw my sister looking back at me...
And it hurt.
I often fantasized that I was at home, telling my sister everything I'd went through. This mental exercise represented one of the pillars of my sanity.
But how would I ever explain my actions on this day?
The following morning I was promoted to coordinator. And looking back now, I can truly pinpoint this event as the moment my mind snapped...
I had never been in an environment where my back was so often against the wall, thrown into situations where I was one wrong move away from losing my rank, my food, my sleep, or my sense of security.
I had to boss around justifiably angry and explosively violent kids on a daily basis. I had to console and calm down kids with genuine mental illnesses, who no longer had access to their medication because Elan "didn't believe in that", and I had to do it all while keeping my own fragile sense of self alive in a cult ran by shameless psychopaths with thirty years of practice turning kids into dollar signs. And you know what...I was good at it.
I had to boss around justifiably angry and explosively violent kids on a daily basis. I had to console and calm down kids with genuine mental illnesses, who no longer had access to their medication because Elan "didn't believe in that", and I had to do it all while keeping my own fragile sense of self alive in a cult ran by shameless psychopaths with thirty years of practice turning kids into dollar signs. And you know what...I was good at it.
She asked "what happened" and for the first time I really realized how impossible it would be to explain that to someone.
"Well you see Chloe, men grabbed me in the night and forced me into a caste-system of strength and non-strength, okay? Now let me draw you a picture of what the Ring looked like. I'll need a fresh red marker for the blood..."
Fuck. This realization hit me hard.
Chloe and I had nothing but love and trust for each other, and even then, I just couldn't see a way to break down what had happened to me into words that another person would understand.
It's taken me almost 20 years to find those words.
"Well you see Chloe, men grabbed me in the night and forced me into a caste-system of strength and non-strength, okay? Now let me draw you a picture of what the Ring looked like. I'll need a fresh red marker for the blood..."
Fuck. This realization hit me hard.
Chloe and I had nothing but love and trust for each other, and even then, I just couldn't see a way to break down what had happened to me into words that another person would understand.
It's taken me almost 20 years to find those words.
Of course for me, it was no big deal because when I had brought [the staph infection] up to the staff in Elan they'd acted like it was nothing but a skin reaction to a bug bite.
And when a couple of weeks went by and it started to spread they changed their theory to "a mild allergy to a new detergent that the laundry company was probably trying out."
When it became painful I was given a Motrin and a very obvious rolling of the eyes for not just taking the pain like a man.
After returning from the doctor my mother realized something.
Was it: "Wow, what kind of place did I send my child to? Where the conditions were so poor that he caught a potentially fatal staph infection which they proceeded to treat with a Motrin?"
Nope.
It was: "Joe, you're staying inside too much and your father and I would really like you to come out tonight for a get-together at the Silversteins' house, because everyone in the neighborhood would just love to see how well adjusted and mature you are now."
And when a couple of weeks went by and it started to spread they changed their theory to "a mild allergy to a new detergent that the laundry company was probably trying out."
When it became painful I was given a Motrin and a very obvious rolling of the eyes for not just taking the pain like a man.
After returning from the doctor my mother realized something.
Was it: "Wow, what kind of place did I send my child to? Where the conditions were so poor that he caught a potentially fatal staph infection which they proceeded to treat with a Motrin?"
Nope.
It was: "Joe, you're staying inside too much and your father and I would really like you to come out tonight for a get-together at the Silversteins' house, because everyone in the neighborhood would just love to see how well adjusted and mature you are now."
The issues us kids had before Elan...they all got amplified...but the ones we left with, that we'd never had before, those were the real killers.
Many times I have wondered if these crazy things happened to me because I was gifted/cursed with the mind to remember them in such detail because I was always destined to one day tell them.
Or...
If these kinds of things happen to a lot of people who just may not have the mind or ability to communicate the experiences as easily as me.
Or...
If these kinds of things happen to a lot of people who just may not have the mind or ability to communicate the experiences as easily as me.
Even if it was fake... pretend yelling still hurts. It doesn't feel like pretend.
—Katie, Chapter 88: Katie
This place only still exist because so many people believe that it doesn't or that it can't. I believe that the internet is our #1 tool for exposing these horrid blind spots for what they are. Help me Reddit!
I was sent to a place called The Elan School in 1998 and I was only 16. The scary thing is that Elan is still open, kids aged 13-20 are there right now. Normal kids, many whom may have smoked a joint or two, or who swore at their parents. Of course there were also real criminals there, but they did not make up the majority.
The "school" accepted anyone and then held them as long as they possibly could depending on the age of the child. If you were sent at 14 (many were) you may have been looking at 3-4 years. This is because The Elan School collects $50,000 a year per child, either from the child's state, school, or parents. And, of course, money was the only motivation of the staff and directors. These were the people in charge of your "progress" in the program.
I was sent to a place called The Elan School in 1998 and I was only 16. The scary thing is that Elan is still open, kids aged 13-20 are there right now. Normal kids, many whom may have smoked a joint or two, or who swore at their parents. Of course there were also real criminals there, but they did not make up the majority.
The "school" accepted anyone and then held them as long as they possibly could depending on the age of the child. If you were sent at 14 (many were) you may have been looking at 3-4 years. This is because The Elan School collects $50,000 a year per child, either from the child's state, school, or parents. And, of course, money was the only motivation of the staff and directors. These were the people in charge of your "progress" in the program.
—u/gzasmyhero, November 26, 2010
, November 26, 2010Sofi: Another website Joe? You think that's worth the energy... right now?
Joe: Well, I think I need to do this. Not for any money, but... I dunno, for my soul.
Sofi: Well... follow your heart then.
Joe: The internet is a big place, but if it helps just one...
Sofi: I get you... I mean, if you need to do it for your soul... do it.
So I did.
Joe: Well, I think I need to do this. Not for any money, but... I dunno, for my soul.
Sofi: Well... follow your heart then.
Joe: The internet is a big place, but if it helps just one...
Sofi: I get you... I mean, if you need to do it for your soul... do it.
So I did.
—Closing lines
