What is a JW childhood like?

by knighthawk1981 49 Replies latest jw friends

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  jschwehm

  Growing up dub was very difficult. I grew up in a rural area of Louisiana. When I was in elementary and jr. high school I got the crap beat out of me many times for being different. My folks who had converted to the JWs as adults and were very popular when they were in school had no idea how difficult it was.

  I was 11 or 12 years old and in the 6th grade. My teacher was talking about the responsibilities of citizenship. One of my classmates who knew I was a JW and hated me for it raised his hand and told the teacher and the entire class, 'Jeff would never fight for his country.' My teacher immediately scolded me in front of the entire class and told me "it is because of people like you that my brother got his legs blown off in Vietnam."

  When I went to my next class, one of the other teachers pulled me aside and asked me what it was that I had done to get the other teacher so upset. I told her that I not done or said anything. She told me that I should apologize to this teach who scolded me in front of the whole class because she was upset. I did as I was told.

  When I got home I was very upset. I told my folks what happened. They did as they always had done. They did absolutely nothing. They said that I as being persecuted for being a JW. They never ever came to my aid in any way. They never even spoke with this teacher. Eventually, I learned that I was on my own with this stuff.

  It was not uncommon for me to be beaten, spit upon and the like. In addition, it was widely believed by most individuals that I went to school that I was gay. Which of course, lead to more beatings and the like.

  Years later after I had graduated from high school, my JW father approached me with this shocked look on his face. He told me that my younger brother, John, had just revealed to him all of the crap he had to put up with in school for being a JW and he wanted to know if I had experienced the same thing. I told him yes. It was as if he had never known. I often wonder what planet my father lives on even to this day....(he insists that the Society never ever discouraged anyone from ever getting a college degree....even though, after he found out that I wanted to go to college, he would ride with me to the KH and spend as much time as possible trying to talk me out of going to college and into going to Bethel...).

  My youngest brother Jason, was pretty crafty. We lived on the border of a school district so we actually could choose between two different high schools to attend. Jason attended the one that was furthest away from our Kingdom Hall and none of our JW friends attended it. We always wondered why he did that. Years later we found out. After all of us had graduated from high school. My brother Jason and I went to a football game with a bunch of his friends from high school. The topic, for some reason, turned to religion and I brought up the fact that Jason and I were raised as a JWs. His high school friends who evidently knew something about the JWs looked at me and Jason in disbelief. They turned to Jason and asked him about all of those stories he used to tell them in high school about my mother and sister making Christmas dinner....My brother admitted to them that all of those stories were false and that he went to great lengths to hide his JW upbringing.

  I have tons more stories....you can email me at [email protected] if you like.

  Jeff S.
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  concerned mama

  As a worldly person, of course, I can't speak personally.

  My main observation of the JW teenagers I am know is that they live complete double lives, and think it is perfectly normal.

  They act as ordinary as possible at school (as long as their parents aren't around), don't tell anyone they are JW, and make up plausable excuses why they can't do things with other kids outside of school.

  Someone who lives a lie, and thinks it is OK to be deceptive, may have trouble maintaining honest relationships in the future. I don't know?

  concerned mama
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  Celtic

  Absolutely ruddy awful in a nutshell, it felt just like a spiritual raping, a black veil being pulled over you, smothering any chance you have at forming naturally your own imformed choice decisions. We were the lowest of the low, constantly humiliated, down trodden upon and beaten, on top of that we had overlayers upon overlayers of emotional blackmail and wanton dollops of demonology fed into our minds conjuring up the most horrific imagery in our young minds. By four years old, we knew all about beastiality and lots of other things you simply do not teach children of that age. It was an upbringing by punishment and fear, a fanaticism with keeping things clean. Segregation betwwen the sexes, the list just goes on and on, it felt truly horrendous. By 14 I was repeatedly self abusing myself by smashing my head into walls to try to block out all the internal pain.

  Hope this helps a little, kind regards

  Celtic Mark - Cornwall, UK
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  rosalyn

  I am writing this post while in a tender and loving mood.

  I grew up in a safe secure home. Was allowed to play with the neighbourhood kids In those days we could disappear for hours on end and our parents never had to worry about us. I was also allowed to bring friends home from school And I did like my non-witness relatives because we did visit them.

  My mother had high emotional intelligence. She was well liked by the neighbours and loved by those in the organization. When she died in her early 40's there was literally a weeping and gnashing of teeth both from the congregation and the community.

  My dad on the other hand had low emotional intelligence ( requirement to be an elder) He could be one mean overseer sometimes. But I always felt protected. In all fairness to my dad ....he was the only who saw me regularly(secretly) after disfellowshipping ocurred. And in 1987 when I was at my worst emotionally lent me money because I just couldn't work outside the home at the time.

  I am an outgoing person by nature and would have loved to join the school's extra curricular activities.. Back then I would have qualified for the cheerleading squadhonestly. I was heart broken when I had to leave the choir because many of the music festivals were held in churches and heaven forbid if we stepped foot inside Babylon the Great. In grade 10 I filled in as class rep. for a students' council meeting. After lunchtime bell I gave my report. There was almost a plea for me to take the post permanently but because it a mini government that was a no go.

  My nick name in high school was Selma Prude....I wore it proudly ....most of the time.

  I really didn't get picked on much because I was a friendly sort but once in awhile the barbs would come out. When about 12 a kid was bad mouthing my dad and for the first time I used the F word...honestlyThe playground went silent for a moment and then we all burst out laughing. A good time was had by all.

  Schooling? I would have loved to become a teacher of History, Geography or English or maybe all of them. I couldn't add or subtract my way out of paper bag.

  When I run into acquaintances and friends from by gone days they are so glad to know I am out. No one has ever reminded of how I quit grade 11 and got the rest of my graduation diploma via summer school and correspondence because Armageddon was coming. I needed to pioneer. And no one reminds me of 1975 and how stupid and gullible I was.

  Isn't the world a grand place? Like I said at the beginning of this essay I am feeling tender and loving at this moment but bitterness can well up sometimes. Bitterness can also rot your soul and I am finding of late that the resentment is dissipating. The feeling of a lost childhood doesn't haunt me like it used to. Do you think the healing has begun?

  rosalyn

  Edited by - rosalyn on 3 August 2002 12:37:44
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  SYN

  There are so many incredible stories here! PLEASE submit them to me so that I can add them to the soon-to-be-up-and-running XJW Stories site! Thanks guys!
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  LyinEyes

  One word: Shitty

  More words: depressing, isolated, embarrassed, humiliated, confusing, etc.

  As a JW kid, you fear all the time, of displeasing your parents, the elders and dying in Armeggedon.

  You feel like an abused child locked in their closet for hours or all day,,, well that really did happen to me. But the feeling of being alone and not fitting in was the worst. Standing out of the crowd as a freak because you didnt celebrate Xmas and they thought you hated Jesus. No birthday partys so your friends thought you hated them.

  I remember my senior year in high school, I knew what my future was going to be like, working full time in my dad's office. I would have no outlet , no friends , no where but a short walk from my house to the back yard where the office was. I cried all the time, while the other seniors were going off on their senior trip, I was the only one who went home. College was out of the question, I had to be even more under my fathers thumb. I hated it. I actually thought of driving my brand new mustang into the river . Anything would be better than the isolation than I had endured.

  So in one more word: MISERABLE
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  teejay

  It was a living death.
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  knighthawk1981

  so your parents wouldn't help you? also were you all allowed to have toys or were you all only allowed to play with toy window-washing sets?
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  LyinEyes

  HAHAHAAH on the toy window washing set.. That is really more sad than funny. I played with barbies with my sister, we mostly used our imagination while playing. We made clubs outside and had horses so it wasnt all extreamly bad. My parents were well off, and we lacked for nothing , in material ways.

  And no my parents did not help me, they were a bigger problem than just being JW's . Of course the things they did , they may have done even if not JW, but being JW was a good tool to use , to keep your daughters in line. They could always go back and use it to put fear into to you and make you feel like a piece of crap for defying them, since God said to honor your father and mother. And it made no difference if my parents deserved honor or not. They did because they gave me life. But in all other ways no. Dad was cold, he whipped us unmercifully , to the point it didnt hurt anymore, got kicked with his cowboy boots, slapped, locked in my room. etc. Mom, was a prescription drug addict, neglectful and there in body only not spirit. She forgot to feed us, I guess that is why I learned to cook when I was 5. If Dad got upset with her drug use, she would turn on me , being the oldest and accuse me of things that a child should never hear.

  Then we would get dressed to the nines, and head off to the meeting, my wonderful dad speaking of love and family , mom would still be stumbling into the hall, bumping into things with her eyes blurred, speech slurred and stoned as hell.

  But no one said a thing. It was the normal way for our family.

  When you live in this kind of hell, toys don't make such a big difference. But at least my horses did, thank god, I had them. I always thought they understood me, after all they were locked up too. I guess I just needed to feel that someone even if it was a silly old horse understood. Horses should be free, and so should children, free to be loved and free to express themselves without getting hit or humiliated.
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  SYN

  Really thought-provoking post, LyinEyes! And I thought I had it bad!