Monday, May 3, 2010


My first group session came as a bit of a shock. We were in a shabby room with blue seats that had been ripped apart and their were yellow stains on the ceilings. About 14 boys came into the room, all looking more disturbed than the last. Not all of them were unattractive, and their was something interesting about them all. Some girls couldn’t handle having boys in the group and would stand up and spontaneously attempt to get naked. I found this very amusing, but the staff did not. One of the boys there was completely silent all through group. He wasn’t illiterate or retarded; he just refused to speak in this ‘crazy-house’. His name was DeJohn and he would stare at me all through group not blinking. He had dark chocolate skin and wore a neon green t-shirt. One day in group, he opened up.He told us that he felt like he could trust us, so he decided to let us on in his secret. He was Wolverine. He told us that at his school, everyone was afraid of him as they had seen his claws, and when the police came for him, they had to call in 10 men just to pin him down. He was convinced that he was white, with green eyes. He spoke about how he liked to lift up cars and how he was deciding weather to use his power for good or for bad. I looked at his hands. There were three deep cuts on the knuckles of each hand. I felt like crying. What was sad about him, was not what he was saying, it was the fact that he believed everything that was coming out of his mouth so strongly, and I knew it would eventually destroy him. Some of the people in group laughed and played along, but I just watched in silence.

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