FJ Blog

A new year is fast approaching.. I for the second new years eve in a row am sitting in front of a big cathode ray tube. I had big plans for tonight but things diddn't work out as planned. Sure, there's always next year.... *sigh*

I don't know how I feel about the turn of events... I guess bummed is the word.



Auld lang syne.

Note: The pic of the xmas tree in the previous post is a dead link because I'm tottaly switiching over to Linux. I have apache installed but can't seem to make it go... guess what I'll be doing at the start of the new year.

Merry Christmas.



I'd write more but I'm tired.. time for bed.

In psychology class this week we've been discussing various approaches to the study of personality. These include, Behavioral, Psychoanalytical, Humanistic, etc.. Today we discussed the humanistic approach as we lead into the topic of mental health. After class I asked a question referring to my own experience... so.. let's jump ahead in my train of thought and transport back to the 7th grade... wow.. I remember junior high quite vividly for some reason.. Same school building... pretty much the same classmates.. but different teachers.. different approaches, different attitudes to my academic progress as a human being. My voice was starting to change.. I liked girls... um... I was more interested in girls than I ever had been in the past... you all know what I mean.. looking back there wasn't much to like about the few girls in my class. Anyway, It was the time that I was evolving into a man in many many ways... I was around 14. The 7th grade was also the year I discovered my ability to hear may be escaping me. I had no idea what was going on, or in what way it would change me.. I don't recall having a fear of going deaf. Moving on... I remember the new guidance counselor/"athletic director"/assistant football coach, I recall shortly after we began investigating my hearing .."condition" the guidance counselor, let's call him "Ken" (that was his name) approaches me in the hall one afternoon and casually tells me that He'd like me to visit with Dr, Murad. I reply with "ok", I didn't know who Dr Murad was ... He was provided by the ESU, and I assumed it had something to do with my hearing (or my eyes. My eye sight was and still is quite bad without corrective lenses) I wrongly assumed that this "Dr." was an audiologist or speech pathologist or something along those lines. The next week rolls around and the day comes when I'm supposed to have a visit with Dr. Murad. I get out of class a few minutes early, (I didn't care for this class much, so I thought it was a cool deal) I go to the guidance counselor's office (this "office" was like a closet with windows) He had fetched me from class, so we entered the room, we sat down, he greeted me, I said hello and read his name tag out loud. His first name was Nabil. He was a middle aged Egyptian man. Born and raised in Egypt. He had a dark complexion, his hair was kind of a "salt and pepper" grey. He wore glasses, and they were attached to a long cord which allowed him to hang them around his neck if he ever so desired. (or perhaps the purpose of the cord was to prevent him from misplacing his glasses.) He had a thick Egyptian accent, and his choice of clothing was interesting.. I later guessed that he may be partially color blind. Most of his clothing was grey, olive, or blue, always very drab solid colors. My suspicion was that he avoided greens, and reds because he could not see them, but that's only a theory. On a totally unrelated point, I later learned that he was a runner and nearly represented Egypt as a runner in the Olympics. I don't recall the title located under his name tag, After we exchanged hellos I sat in my chair and waited for him to start asking me questions or tell me something worth my time. In the back of my mind I remember thinking . o O ("They took me out of Miss Stewart's class for this, whatever reason I'm here it aught to be good") I don't recall a single specific of that first conversation with Dr Murad. I did discover that he was some kind of counselor.. some kind of psychologist.. or something. I remember leaving without any idea what the point of it was. I think I felt like I was supposed to have learned something, but I had no idea what. Also I didn't go too deeply into it, hey I was in the 7th grade.. I didn't think all that deeply about anything at that time. Lunch immediately followed the class that I was taken out of, and I think one of my classmates may have asked me about going to talk to "that guy" I replied by shrugging and stating that I didn't really know what it was all about. One week later (Dr Murad only visited the school once a week) He stops by to fetch me from class again. I was confused, I remember saying "um but I saw you last week" I kind of trailed off .. and got a confused look but one that could have only shown a fraction of the confusion on my face. I soon discovered that I was expected to meet with Dr Murad on a regular basis. This puzzled me because I had no idea what the point of speaking with him was. --> Now lets jump back to today's psychology lecture. We learned about the humanistic approach to personality. (look it up for yourselves, I don't feel like doing the typing required to explain it here) I clearly identified this methodology as the system that that was used with me. It grabbed my attention, and as we went over more details I became more sure that this was the approached used with me. After class I asked about the humanistic approach in regard to mental health.. and I asked if I was correct in thinking that this requires self awareness of a problem. My instructor confirmed my conclusion, and I briefly stated that I was recalling personal experience... and mentioned that this approach was used on me in Junior High School, but no one ever told me what problem (if any) we were supposed to be solving. Not to say that I didn't have issues at the time, but the "counseling" never addressed such issues. I mentioned that I have always taken more of a scientific approach to solve problems, that is that I need to be aware and define the problem before I can go about solving it. My instructor told me that the ability of this guy was questionable, and I laughed somewhat nervously and stated that I had been saying that the whole time. That brief chat with my professor made a flood of memories come back to me. The "counseling" wasn't such a big deal, but the side effects were. Going to a small school and being in a small class, it was no secret that I was talking to this guy. I was ridiculed and deep down it bothered me more than I can describe. I didn't know why I had to go see this counselor, and it was a surprise to me when I discovered I was the only one, again I'm not saying I was denying that I had issues of any kind (who doesn't at that age) but I had no idea what all of this was supposed to accomplish. The word "teased" comes to mind but I'm reluctant to use it. This wasn't teasing. Being mocked and showered with obscenities takes it's toll. They loudly accused me of the most foul and vulgar of things I quickly became a freak... and the whole time I felt helpless in a way because if there really was something wrong with me, no one would tell me what it was. (by no one, I mean is no authority figure, or roll model) The Immaturity level of the people in my class is appalling to this day. I still don't know what to make of all this... and I can't deny that being in this bizarre environment has shaped who I am. There are a lot of unanswered questions yet, some will never be answered. Questions that arised after I "recovered" include "What the hell was that?!?" and "What, if anything, was I supposed to learn from all this?" I have no idea.

Update: Holy s@!$#% I did a search on google out of pure boredom.
http://www.nsea.org/about/AffDist/metro/ArtT.htm

I remember one time I met with him, he called me Dennis. He was telling me things to boost my self esteem or something I dunno. "... Dennis is smart... Dennis is a good studnet etc etc etc.. " I looked at him and said, "My name... is not ... Dennis." and I let out a big sigh.