Getting tortured in school.

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I just didn't care...

What anyone thought of me. And I don't know if they ever said anything,but if so it was never to my face. I did get into a few fights,but it was in like fourth grade or so. I remember a kid a few grades ahead knocking me down and pushing my face in the snow,just being a bully. The second time he tried it,I beat the snot out of him,and he stayed away from me after that.

I managed the garage in a Firestone dealership while in college. Some of the crew that worked there not the best people,however they always did what I asked of them,never said anything out of line to me,and never gave me any flack. I was out of the closet during the six years that I worked there.
I also hung out with a biker friend at the time,and never had any problems at the biker bar on the "wrong side of the tracks" he hung out at.

I think if you let someone intimidate you it is a horrible mistake. If that happens you have lost their respect,and also the battle. I think that Mrs. Preston would agree with me on that!

I love the fact that your wife belted Molly Ringwald! That is classic!
 
Language quirks

Well, being down south doesn't help, and being a Cajun doesn't help either with speaking clearly.

I've known people up north (like Pennsylvania, Massachusetts) say "Drawering" instead of "Drawing". Also, here in Lousiana us Cajun drone out the long "I" sound, so Tires is "Toyrs" or "Tars", Time is "Tom" or "toym", the pronoun "I" is "ah", my is "mah". One time my ex finacee's dad kinda chuckled when I prounced Verizon "Verohhhzen". He started saying, "Man, you come from down on dat bayou!". I said, "Hell yeah! And don't you yankees ever forget it".

But yeah, Moebius is a little different than just not moving your mouth, it's an inability to do so regardless. Quite enough fuel for the flames.

Well, as far as standing up for myself, I was afraid of people so I would just run. My dad put me in a Karate school in hopes I'd "kick their a**". Well, I wasn't very good at sparring so I figured if I couldn't fight then running was the only alternative. And shouting back or cursing would've started a fight so I didn't do it.

It definitely was the parents fault for those kids. Most of them were alcoholics and white trash who could care less.
 
Rick, that was my hairstyle!

At the time you were doing the Firestone gig, I was working at "Bill's Arco" in Encinitas California. What a wonderful job. My auto shop teacher told me about it and put a good word in for me as he worked part time there and I was the top guy in class for three years running. I started pumping gas, but quickly I was doing engine tune ups, oil changes, then it got interesting.

Because I was so good with cars, I found myself doing things like moving huge dump trucks from the station to the rental yard, firing up all sorts of machinery, rebuilding engines. The older pump jockey guys out front hated that! I made just a buck or two more than minimum wage, but it was one of the most fun experiences of my life. If I worked the late shift, I would mop up the work bays, and my friend Bob would come down and stand on the alignment rack while I worked and we would quiz each other on the coming physics or english exams. Dream job for someone with my aptitude.

When I got my Charger, I was allowed to work on it after hours there. Bill was the kind of guy who could be grouchy but was good hearted, and he would unannounced just pull the oil out of my car and put a new filter and oil in it. This was always under the guise of him showing you the right way to do it. Whenever I had to take something to his house, one of his kids cars I was working on, etc, he would either buy me lunch or clip some amazing flowers for me to take home to my mom. What a cool guy, and job, this was.

And of course, he always let me have my hair longer.
 
I never did like Molly Ringwald in the 80s. I always thought she was a little *itch. Good that your wife decked her.

Justine Bateman (Mallory on Family Ties) on the other hand. OMG, my first TV crush. Just in time for puberty and the invention of Softsoap.
 
High school the abridged version

Fat, gay, and a voice that sounded like Mickey Mouse on helium...in an all boys Catholic high school. NOT a winning combo, need I say more. The school was so unsupportive; teachers looked the other way or pretended not to hear the taunts. The Dean of students told my mother "I should just ignore it"..."boys will be boys” and my personal favorite "maybe I would be happier at another school". After my freshman year my parents were all set to pull me out, and send me to a different school. However, I didn't want to be chased out of the school like some monster. I stuck it out for another three years. For that, I can say I have been to hell. While I still hate even driving past my high school, the experience has taught me a lot, about myself. I have become almost fearless, when dealing with people. Before I give a big presentation at school (business students do hundreds of power point presentations during their college career), or walk down the runway(lately I have done a few charity fashion shows, so much fun =) I just close my eyes and think nothing that anyone can say or do right now can be any worse then those four years of HS. It’s like a shot of courage right when I need it most.
If I could go back I would like to thank those boys for making me a stronger, better person.
Wow that felt kind of good to vent… other then my parents you guys are the only ones to know this.
Donnie
 
People who say they

had a good time in high school were either delusional or bullies.

I was a library helper/studio arts/theatre person

That's all I am going to say on the matter.

Lawrence/Maytagbear
 
I guess I was pretty fortunate then. While I wasn't "out" I'm sure there were some questions but I don't remember anyone ever being traumitized for being fat, queer, odd, at my highschool which was a mix of "rich kids" "middle classers", and farm kids" they didn't stick to themselves as such and everone more or less found their friends from any which group and stuck together. I don't remember any clashes at all ever. The few kids with disabilities in wheelchairs or crutches and the one sole black girl in a sea of whiteys were just part of the school like anyone else and just fit in to everything like anyone else. I believe it had to do with the way the school was run starting from the principal on down. He was well liked by everyone, very fair and non confrontational. When I started in Grade 9 was still when girls were supposed to wear dresses or skirts, boys could wear jeans etc. but I guess by that time the older girls rebelled and all decided to come to school in jeans one day. The principal got on the PA a bit later that day and agreed that perhaps it was time for some change but that he expected that the school being somewhat like a business people should dress appropriately and if they are going to wear jeans then at least look decent about it. For the most part all of the teachers and classes were fairly easy going, you didn't have to stick you hand up and wait for permission to leave the room etc to go to the bathroom you could just get up quietly and walk out if you had to go. Even though it was highschool they treated you much more like young adults or college students. If you skipped you weren't grilled the next day so long as you had your work done but you couldn't use excuses for failing or missing something because of it, it was too bad, so sad, think about it next time.
I didn't dread gym too much, I knew there were a lot worse than me at some things. I could play baseball, not great but as good as many, football I hated and still do, hockey I hated and still do (a sin for a Canadian) LOL. My real saving grace was gymnastics which I took for years at the Y growing up.. whew..I could at least do something better than the rest of them, and I was a pretty good shot with a rifle. Imagine we had a proper rifle range in the school... I wonder if it's still there?
 
I wouldn't say that Jaune, I think it was our school in particular, not all my friends here had an easy go of like I did. People here can be just as nasty, that's all a myth. LOL
 
I will admit that when I went to school I had NO interest in sports so I was teased.....class fairy....at home, when all the boys played ball, I was hanging out in the laundry room watching the machines...yes, school was rough for me but I survived it...and I still love to hang out with washing machines....Ross
 
The appliances were (and still are) our friends

No one understood my problems or accepted me better than a 1970 Kenmore 800. I never let it leak out that I was a washer fanatic, that would've been one more thing to get teased on. PeteK I wish I'd gone to your school. Our schools were just like everybody else's. They corral you around like animals, you have to get permission to go to the bathroom, the teachers didn't care. Our principal was actually nice. But the disciplinarian was a total *****.

Even to this day, little kids and teenagers make me very uncomfortable.
 
Incarceration...........

our Junior High School (grades 7,8,9) A/K/A Intermediate School had a principal who was LITERALLY a jail warden at one time.

There were assigned seats at LUNCH. and you could be marked "cutting" if you were not there. They did allow you to move around so long as there was no trouble. But the minute there were problems in the lunchroom you could get into big trouble for having changed yoor seat.

The only good (and bad thing) was that you got to choose your seat in the lunchroom on the first day of classes...I of course got the nerds, fairies and rejects....SIGH. But that was a whole lot better than getting the jocks.

BTW the restroom doors were bolted open ("L-angle") screwed to door and into floor. that place was run like a clean-room in a micro-chip factory. To this day the smell of pine reminds me of that school. You could smell a match or burning cigarette in that school from the opposite end of China. Very few dared.
 
I'm really moved at reading all these posts and many of your experiences are like reading about my own youth. I went to a small private school, was very skinny, wore glasses and hated sports and PE class. Hardly a day went by that I wasn't verbally and/ or physically tormented. Most of my teachers thought it was pefectly ok for the "cool" kids to pick on "that little faggot" as I came to be known by both faculty and students. Funny thing about being called fag and queer before you come to terms with your own sexuality yourself. By the time I did come out during my freshman year at college I had such a low opinion of myself and of being gay that I came very close to suicide and had a complete emotional meltdown. Add to the mix that my homophobic, World War II veteran father who was a very physically strong man, went berzerk and beat the crap out of me when he found out he had a gay son. To this day I'm still having back problems from where he knocked me across the kitchen and slammed me into the side of the refrigerator. I remember the feeling of relief I felt about ten or 12 years after that incident the night my Mom called me and said he had died. I had very little to do with him those last ten years of his life.

People who think gay and lesbian people are "weak sisters" should read some of these posts on this thread. We should all feel proud that we've had the strength and determination to have overcome such horrid childhoods and gone on to make decent lives for ourselves and elevate our own self-esteem.
Personally I've tried to use my past experiences to help a young gay college boy (who was sexually abused as a young teen by several youth ministers & camp counselors at his church) on the road to having a happy, fulfilling life. For the past 3 plus years he has been like a son to my partner (of 15 years) and I. Having a gay boy to mentor and nurture through his difficult college years has been so rewarding for me as I can do all I can to help make his transition into young gay adulthood much easier than mine was. Because I had a drunken, abusive louse for a father I've tried to be to this young man what I wish my own father had been to me - a strong, supportive and loving "substitute dad/ big brother". I'm glad that we have fine young folks like Austin in this group who are mature, non-judgemental and accepting of others.
Les
 
My Honda

was a 1974 750. I bought it as a total loss and had rebuilt it.
 
Wasted time

I don't know why some people can't accept others for the way they are. I think some are afraid of anything different.

In the case of a parent however, it is another issue. The parent thinks that somehow it is their fault,or maybe they can change their children if they try hard enough. Obvously it would be impossible, in the case of sexual preferance. No matter how hard they tried,or even get frustrated and try to beat it out of you. (How about beat someone until they are gay??) I know what blood tastes like also. And I tasted it for the last time the night I left for good in 1972.
I loved my parents though,and they did love me also. It was just that we couldn't live together. It was just too close for comfort for them.
We got along much better after I was gone a couple years. After they had passed away,I found that my father had saved EVERY card us kids had ever given to him.
I saved all mine,and I will share the fathers day card I got my dad for 1974. (he didn't get one for 72' or 73')
 
Sometimes you find the perfect card!

I learned that one must LEARN to train a parent right! LOL!!

I hope we can all learn and heal from sharing these not so nice memories.

BTW: the card for 1975 was much nicer
 
Sadly, I can relate to this.

For years it was drilled into me that I was I who was "defective". Actually it is dear old dad is who is more defective than I could ever aspire to be.

Left home at 19 and never looked back.
Years later he told me he was thrilled and proud that "you got away from your mother's apron strings and did it on your own". HA!

Denial. It's not just a river in Egypt.

Rick we'll chat soon. We have a lot in common.
 
I always wondered about the use of the term

What was it with that, especially in the late 70s? Did you ever get the idea that maybe, just maybe, some of these guys who were CONSTANTLY using the "fag" word had a little sexual orientation issue themselves? Or some self-loathing going on? You know, I have gotten angry and done some name calling myself (not bullying, usually defensively) and it's odd, never had the urge to call someone a fag. Makes me wonder if it's a version of what we learned in Psych 101 as "projection". What is/was it with the preoccupation with that word and guys? How come no "Hey, you lousy little swinger!" or "F- you you polyamorist!!!" or any other put down associated with sexual interests or orientation. I think these guys had real problems understanding what being a man is all about. And they certaintly weren't men.

Especially odd in gym. What was it with all the butt-touching? And the checking you out in the showers? And the grabbing you? Funny, I have no interest in grabbing guys, but I got the "fag word" yelled at me here and there. I wasn't grabbing guys in the shower or trying to snap their privates with a towel. But they were. I just hated sports and I hated those guys. Hmm...can we infer sexual confusion and self-loathing on their part? I think we can. As preposterous as the movie was--I really hated it--I think of that nutso guy in American Beauty. So insanely angry and full of murderous rage that his son may be gay, but he loves men himself and goes off the hinge when he is rejected by a straight guy. (Of course, the movie dredges up the old stereotype that military gay men are all nuts, but people loved that movie, go figure)

Why would they care if someone is gay? That someone might start doing the same locker room hijinks that they themselves are doing? Or maybe the thought of someone kicking their head in who happens to be gay is terrifying? Or terrifying that they themselves may be discovered as gay?

It all does not compute. And then again, maybe it does.
 
After reading a lot of these entries-I too was bullied and picked on mainly becuase I had no interest in sports or "phys-ed" class.Had to take it though.Some of the athletic guys wondered why I PASSED the course and they failed--I tried to do the exercises and tried to play the games(I was a pretty good shot with the archery part-wonder if they do that today)These other kids "goofed around" by bullying others and not doing the exercises or the games.To this day ball sports bore me-the only "sport" that I like was the shooting-still do it on occasion.the school didn't have a rifle range-but they set up an "impromptu" archery range in the gym.If an arrow missed the target butt-sure made a big dent in the wall and shattered the arrow.Was the only part I liked.-Guess becuase I could do it better than some of the other kids-esp the bullies.also the bullies were common in shop classes.they gave up after awhile-and then some of those "bullies" grew out of it in the senior year at high school-they knew me and another guy liked playing with old Tv's and radios-and one fellow who bullied us then turned to be one of the nicest guys I knew-and he gave me and a good friend some old radios and TV's in his home for us to work on-We got 'em going-He was amazed!!
 
On a field trip upstate to the mountains, "special progress" was put togehter with "special education" on the same bus.

My class went first then special education was boarded, and the teachers and school aides, and bus driver disappeared for few minutes.

The S - - - my classmates put those kids through!

I was so upset I went over to the ring-leader/bully, lifted him up by his shirt, stared straight into his eyes and said "lay off, NOW!" Of course it pays to bare ones teeth as a rabid dog, and throw in a "do you hear me?". When a little "yes" squeeked out, I walked over his puddle and re-seated myself. I thought I'd be killed, but not one person said a thing. I was safe for the next two year till I graduated.

The great thing about being a huge fairy, is that your guardian angels entrust you with sacred and miracale-making missions because they know you can fly as well as they can.

And further, the one benefit about taking abuse, is that you learn how to dish it our REAL well.

DONT F^&* WITH ME FELLAS; I"VE BEEN TO THE RODEO!!!!!!
 
You should have gone the extra mile and made him say "Yes sir". Good thing you had the guts to do that. I know I wouldn't have. I probably would've gotten the s*** kicked out of me. Again, not the best strategy but I had good legs and they could run.
 
My school days spanned from 1969 to 1981, 1st through 12th grades. I was skinny, no matter how much I would try to shovel into my mouth. I was also a gay kid growing up in West Texas, so you can imagine. I had a "lazy eye" that wasn't completely obvious, but I had real trouble with eye-hand coordination, because of it. I couldn't catch anything to save my life, nor could I hit a ball. I used to hear this comment a lot when it was my turn up to bat...."Stick the bat out! Maybe the ball will hit it!!" So, gay, skinny, West Texas kid in the 70s who sucked at sports...What a life!

Fast forward to 1989......I began teaching elementary school, which I did for 12 years. One of my major pet peeves was when a kid would make fun of another kid, and I had no tolerance for it!

I enjoyed my days in elementary school, as a kid, but jr. high and high school were torture. Too much P.E., too much social life issues, etc. Life as an adult is sooooooo much better.
 
Washinsheen -

You're originaly from Muleshoe, right? I think I remember you saying your grandparents lived there, but I wasn't sure where you went to high school. I was in Muleshoe just last night. I ate at Leal's with my Dad and brother.

BTW, you should try to make it to the Tucson Wash-In - Texas Style. Hopefully all of the Texas contingent will be there. It would be nice to meet a fellow West Texan. Hey, it will be nice to meet ANYONE from aw.org. I'm new, and missed the convention! I hope to make up for it by attending as many wash-ins as possible!

Tex
 
Hi Tex. Thank you for the vote of confidence. I am working on a surprise guest at our Tucson wash in. I also plan on having plenty of Mexican detergent, fabric softener, and even Mexican bleach. Steve "toggleswitch" is coming and he sure can cook a great dinner. Last time he was in Tucson, he cooked a great Greek dinner at my house.
 
good on ya toggleswitch

i'm a school aide to special education children at the moment (but am studying for my teaching degree) and i am fed up of having to tell the mainstream kids to "leave them alone" or "respect that this person is different from you", i just need toggleswitch to rock up and do what he did to that kid on the bus, i'm sure my recess yard supervision will be a lot more peaceful then! Sometimes i wonder wether kids today are brought up or dragged up!
 

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