As I mentioned before, I have watched All God's Children and it had an interesting impact on me...I related to so much the film. I found it on youtube. I watched it alone and then with my husband because I knew he just had to see it to help him understand. It brought up some interesting discussions and a lot of memories that I hadn't necessarily thought of in a while.
The images of the children arriving at the school and happily running around could have been images of me and my friends...outwardly looking like a normal, happy group of children and yet with the reality being otherwise. Our lives were also ruled by the bells, either at the dorm or the school. I remember a girl wetting her dress in class because the teacher ignored her request to go to the bathroom. I remember vomiting at least once in a classroom because of the same issue...I had low blood sugar issues and sometimes the nausea came on fast around mid-morning, but it would have been unthinkable for me to just have gotten up and left for the bathroom without permission.
When I was first in the dorm, we did not have a fall vacation so did not see our parents from August to December...I remember forgetting a little what my parents looked like or what it felt like to be in our family. Later we did have fall breaks, which helped. We spoke to our parents for 15 minutes every week; since there were three of us, we each had 5 minutes. It was awkward as we knew the entire field was listening in on our conversations, as was the radio lady, who was rather imposing to us kids.
I wouldn't say that my experience was one of such harsh punishment, however, others may have had that experience. It was a strange mix of structure and yet lack of supervision at times...sometimes we were micro-managed and yet I also developed a strong independence of sorts. For example, I remember scraping my ankle on the basketball court, but I don't remember going to anyone for medical help, I remember just treating it myself even though it was seriously infected. I had some sulfa powder that my dad gave me and it eventually healed.
Later, as I began to process the effects of years spent in the dorm, I began to realize that I had developed the belief that I was on my own, that life was up to me...I had control issues because I was afraid to let go fearing that if I did, life would somehow fall apart. I am still processing the effects of my upbringing and am thankful that God has been willing to come into those places so I can find healing. He is faithful.
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