My first General Meeting (a memory that I wrote down 9 years ago)

My first day in Elan was a complete blur, but I remember being hungry and that I couldn’t wait for dinner. I remember picturing the food that would be waiting on the tables. I knew not to expect much. I thought maybe a couple juice boxes, some mashed potatoes secured in a cup with an aluminum lid, a piece of mystery meat. But coming down the stairs from my "orientation" I was surprised to find that the tables were all bare and everyone seemed to be sitting up at attention like soldiers.

“HOUSE IN THE DINING ROOM! GENERAL MEETING!!!” somebody screamed.

This call was then echoed by four other voices, the Zones, all with the same tone. Even Sam (my Big-Brother) seemed to change. He began to move faster towards the tables, leading me quickly to my seat. As we sat, Sam gave me a look that seemed to communicate ‘Do what I do, right now, or you WILL be sorry’.

Then I met the man who will be remembered, maybe loved, most-likely hated, possibly respected, and without a doubt feared by thousands of memories that have been tainted by Elan’s reach.

His name was Ron. He was about six foot five, skinny as a rail, covered in tattoos with a face like a serial killer. If the man was walking on your side of the street towards you, you wouldn’t just walk to the other side, you would run for your life in any direction you could. And that’s not the worst part. ‘Stop right there!’ he would yell and despite your body telling your feet to continue running, your mind would be frozen in fear. 

Ron was physically bigger, emotionally stronger, more spiritually advanced, and a thousand times more capable of either making or breaking your life than even you. I would soon dread his very presence even if he was sleeping. He was the lead director of Elan 8, an Elan graduate himself, and the undisputed single reason why our house was used as a threat to make the other houses behave.

General Meeting? What did that mean? Why is everyone shitting bricks right now? Why does it seem like the temperature has dropped by fifteen degrees? Why isn’t anyone talking? Where is dinner?

“Jerry, I want you and Brian up there. EXPEDITOR, get me Matt S. Why the FUCK isn’t there a broomstick ready?”

Broomstick? I thought: ‘What the fuck? Oh shit! This could be bad. Maybe I’m wrong, maybe I’m fucked’. Then an intensely horrible thought hit me: ‘Is all this because of my guilt letter? Could it be? What the fuck is going on?’ Then I saw a boy being brought down the stairs, literally. One student was on each side of him, holding onto an arm, until he was in front of all of us. Ron walked towards him with the broomstick.

‘Damn’ I thought. ‘Should I help him? Is everyone gonna just sit here and watch this?’ Ron threw the broom stick down at Matt’s feet. I breathed a small sigh of relief. Then he said the four words which would first confuse me and then scare the living hell out of me on almost a daily basis.

“GET YOUR FEELINGS OFF.”  

Larsen smiled, watching, as the entire room seemed to explode with instant movement. A sound like I had never heard hit the air like a gunshot. Wait, I had heard this noise but was too disoriented to realize at the time. This was the sound I heard as I first was brought into this house, as I got my first glance of the living room on the way to the shower. It was the sound of mob mentality. 

The first screams hit the air and you wanted to throw your hands over your ears at the pure decibels which these children would reach. I guess after a while, everyone just realized that the louder you screamed, the less anyone was actually going to listen to what you were saying. Especially because you were almost never yelling by yourself during a GM, it was at least you and two others, two others who also made an effort to scream loudly. Maybe the residents screamed so loud because of the amount of pent-up rage that was actually inside of them. 

I would reflect later, after watching and being a part of hundreds of GM’s - it was kind of like watching a television commercial that you have seen enough times to know by heart. And when it comes on, you could focus on a tiny aspect of that commercial, maybe an extra in the background and realize that you are watching something fake and pre-rehearsed.

For example, if I would try my best to focus on just one voice at a time, I would hear ridiculous statements, screamed loudly, at the offender like: YOU KNOW WHAT MATT, FUCK YOU YOU FUCKING FUCK, YOU ARE FUCKING DUMB, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING, ITS LIKE YOUR FUCKING DUMB AS FUCK YOU FUCK, FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU OK, WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU, FUCK YOU… (then the screamer walks away seething saliva through clenched teeth, shaking his head, face red and out of breath).

This is all for the approval and recognition of the Staff member who ran the GM. Another student could never run a GM, only a Staff member. Most of the time there were many Staff members involved. Standing at different points of the small dining room and screaming out accusation while degrading the person getting the GM. All the while, a mob of over 50 children watch you, who are trained like attack Dobermans with a 4 word trigger. GET YOUR FEELINGS OFF! 

“FUCK YOU…” “MATT, YOU ASSHOLE…” “YOU MOTHERFUCKER, I HATE YOU…” “Who the FUCK do YOU THINK YOU ARE?” All of these different voices, male and female, all angry, some enraged, all screaming, blending into a wall of noise almost too much for the ears to take. And Jesus, I was about seven feet away from this mob which had instantly formed inches away from Matt.

I could not imagine actually being him and experiencing the horror. Apparently the broomstick was used as an invisible boundary. One’s feet could touch it and ones body could lean over past it, but the broomstick could not be moved. Matt’s feet began maybe two inches away from it while the mob was taking turns “Getting their feelings off” at him. The kids had transformed from quiet observers to aggressive rage-filled snarling beast basically at the snap of someone’s fingers.

The whole scene was extremely primal, spit was flying everywhere. The kids were breathing heavily and in a very unusual way. They were consolidating their breaths between screams so as not to lose their voice and still deliver a shout with the most intensity and stongest level possible. Everyone was taking a turn, there were constantly ten or twenty huddled up, and when a couple were done and returning to their seat, a couple new ones were moving towards the mass.

The length of the broom allowed between four and six people to be able to scream at one time. It was like piglets blindly flocking to their mother for milk. As soon as a position opened up in the “front line” someone grabbed it. They were almost fighting amongst each other to go next or to secure a good spot. Even the children on the different security zones were getting people of similar positions to “hold” their zone so they themselves could go.

Besides the staff, there were two others besides me who didn’t “go”. To let over fifty people get their feelings off isn’t a short process. It took almost twenty minutes just for that “part” to be over. Ron then explained that Matt S. had been very resistant to the Elan philosophy and had been acting like a real baby.

“You think you can act like that here?”Ron asked. “Not here buddy, we will break you down and then decide what we want to do with you after. You think you can be treated differently than everyone else? Like you are special? You aren’t FUCKING special, Gary P. is special. He’s going to be graduating this week and….”

“Okay... Ron,” Matt S. while said rolling his eyes. “Keep thinking that in your mind, I’m never going to respect you, I deserve….”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP…You ARE going to do what I say whether you like it or not, GET IT? Take him away, he obviously needs to spend some more time in the Corner.”

The weird thing is that Matt accepted this “Corner” punishment like it was routine. He nonchalantly turned back towards the two boys who had escorted him down and they all went right back up.

Then, as if nothing happened, a kid stood up and began to order people around. I later found out his position was Department Head of the Kitchen Crew. I guess it's time to put out the meal.

Somehow I lost my appetite.

(Matt S. kept this up for quite a long time, nearly ten months. Ten months living in a corner, coming out to get GM’s and Rings)