The War of Perception

Spring is in the air.

Last month, in the post The Year of Many Victories, I described cycling through different "modes" based on past chapters of my life, places I've lived, in the pursuit of reconciliation for each epoch. I briefly alluded to my intention to soon divert some time and attention to those of you from BGSU:

In the words of Marsellus Wallace, "You hear me talkin', hillbilly boy? I ain't through with you by a damn sight. I'ma get medieval on your ass." More on that in upcoming posts, but let me tell you I am waging a War of Perception: some of you mother fuckers are still pissing me off, and I am not going to hold my tongue or let it drop, or whatever the fuck other metaphors you want to mix. 

You see, this spring will be the 10th Anniversary of me getting the fuck out of Ohio. My dark emotions have not abated in the least. A decade of resentment. By now, neural pathways have been paved in concrete. Something about the tidy number ten makes this year more significant, I think. I won't stop until all of you who have benefited from the disgusting favoritism at BGSU can at least fucking admit it. I promise you, I will explain the "War of Perception" further in the coming months. And I am fucking looking forward to it. But it mainly comes down to shattering the gilded idols in your ivory tower. 

Incidentally, "Gilded Idols of the Ivory Tower" is the title of a string quartet movement I am going to eventually get around to composing. Someday.

Spring is in the air. It is no coincidence that I am thinking specifically of spring 2006. Ten years ago. Yeah, I am in full BG Mode--fond nostalgia for some people, bitter strife for others. I have a few frenemies on Facebook, you see. By now, I think I've weeded most of them out (or driven them off). But even for my true friends, some of you need your cages rattled. 

Now, to explain the "War of Perception" I mentioned. 

"I won't stop until all of you who have benefited from the disgusting favoritism at BGSU can at least fucking admit it." That's more or less it, in a nutshell. I am sick of seeing these posts by friends from grad school--posts that perpetuate and celebrate a denigrative and pretentious culture, by friends who benefited from a system that abused me. Of course you had a good experience at BGSU, you sycophant--that's why you did. Don't deny that you benefited from favoritism, and don't deny that I was grossly mistreated. 

It infuriates me when someone tells me to just "let it go," chastising me for "living in the past." You are missing the point entirely: it is not "the past" at all when I see these problems perpetuated on social media in the present. 

And if there is something that is entirely in the past, that truly doesn't have any bearing on the present, then you are looking at it all wrong when you admonish me for not being as enlightened as you think I should be. Maybe you should look at it this way: your friend is hurt and for some reason can't heal. Just a thought. Maybe your throwing stones doesn't solve anything?

And it bothers me most deeply that friends who once saw the travesty for what it was, allies who supported me when the true nature of the faculty reared its ugly head and the house of cards came toppling down, have clearly forgotten that there was ever an injustice in the first place. And they shrug and say, "That was a long time ago," because they came out ahead. Because they got something positive out of the experience. And so they have forgotten, and they don't care. Because, after all, it was ten years ago.

It's bad enough that the assholes are still invincible, still doing what they do, to year after year of countless, unsuspecting people just like me. But when people who once knew better act like I am overstating or flat-out imagining things? That's unacceptable. 

Let me refresh your memory with an excerpt from my blog post Maelstrom, Part II: Reckoning, posted on Tuesday, April 11, 2006:

This maelstrom has awakened the student body. While everything I've talked about is strikingly similar to other students' grievances, my story is the highly-concentrated epitome. Something is happening... the rift between the faculty and the grad students has been ripped wide open. My experience has galvanized the others into a sort of mental insurrection. Thus, I have become a martyr. Faith in the establishment is toppling over like a drunken game of Jenga. 

By the way, me being called a martyr was someone else's word choice. It wasn't me being melodramatic in my blog post. It was real. It was my friend under the moniker Herr Vogler who said that first. 

At the time, it was true: there had been an awakening, and the faculty lost respect from many of my classmates for the way I was clearly, obviously being singled out. At the time, many people were angry on my behalf. At the time, it felt like a civil war was brewing. But then, something happened. People stopped caring, or they forgot--either way, they had to look out for themselves. Maybe they just shrugged it off and were grateful it wasn't happening to them... or were fearful that it could happen to them? That is the mystery that will always haunt me. Why did nothing come of this? Why did no one have my back, even after they said they did?

Worst of all were the grad students who were champions of the Church of Avant-Garde, the teacher's pets, who helped make my life a living hell, and only made every problem worse. I may never break through to them, but they are worth fighting whenever I get the chance. 

And so I have given a name to my mission. The War of Perception. One by one, I want to change my erstwhile colleagues' perceptions until I have converted everyone to seeing the light. Some people need reminding, while others have always been in denial and need their illusions shattered. This is not to alienate them, but to reconcile with them. 

So you asked, why am I still fighting? 

I am fighting because, assuming it makes you uncomfortable, then you deserve to be made uncomfortable with confrontation if you were part of the problem and never admitted it. 

I am still fighting because the fight never ended. 

I am still fighting because truth matters. The only way I will ever feel better about this "unfinished business" with BGSU is through vindication. 

And I will not stop until victory conditions have been met. Until every last one of you at least makes a certain concession to me, and you lose any lingering respect you might still have for a certain few individuals. I do not expect to recruit you into a crusade of defamation or anything. I just demand this small measure of satisfaction. I confront you with ugly truth, and demand that you not turn a blind eye to it. I am waging war to demolish any false perceptions you might still have. 

It's personal.

Yes, spring is in the air. There's an energy about it. Of rejuvenation, but also of anticipation of the end drawing near. Another school year nears completion, and you are approaching the end of your degree program. You know that soon you will have the achievement and relief of being finished forever, but you will also be saying goodbye to a lot of dear friends. Building towards a climatic finale. There's definitely an energy about it. And it smells of flowering trees, rain on the horizon, and fresh coffee. 

Spring is in the air, and it smells like war.