Plumfield Academy

Those were different times, they were....

When I was a much younger version of me, I attended a private school called Plumfield. I need to preface the story by telling you this was no ordinary private school. No, you were probably thinking of some idyllic pastoral setting, horseback riding and lessons in grammar and how to talk politely at society parties, but you'd be so very wrong in your thinking!

In reality the school seemed to mostly function as a repository for several class fulls of wayward and heavily damaged kids, divorce refugees and the just plain doomed. I saw more drugs there in my first few months there than I did the remaining 5 years of public school which followed my experience at "The Academy".

Of course I fit in quite well-I was pretty fucked then-I could barely stay in one universe at a time in those days. Ritalin and hyperactivity meant I spent most of my days lost in some foggy notion of what it meant to be a real person. I knew I existed but had no rational sense of self yet. My unconsciousness was hijacked while I spent the bulk of my time spinning my wheels or writing crazed poetry about the men's faces that appeared on my textured bedroom walls as I came down every night...and spoke back to me.

I wouldn't say that Plumfield was a horrible school but its quite telling that by the time I was back in public school at 14 I could barely do basic math and even simple division was outside my comprehension. It would take a further 4 years to get some semblance of proper learning environment. I used to question if my struggles with poor writing over the years could be partially attributed to that period of time but rarely focus on that stuff these days.

While I was there I met quite a few kids that you could just tell were already on their way out as they walked in the door. Lots of teenage drug use and a few spectacular cases of abuse. I was there personally because of the fights I was getting into in public school. I was a target, a bully's dream. I never fought back and became terrified of what would happen to the other person when and if I did.

While Plumfield gave me a buffer from that it also exposed me to some of the seedier sides of life long before I should have been. I am going to start writing about some of these sides over the coming months in an effort to reconcile some of those days with who I am now-and then consign them to the bins of history. IN any case its going to be funny, hair-raising and tragic all at the same time. Tune in tomorrow...