#010 Sam Dupree [Class of 2007]

A couple of exercises.

 

*Imagine the perfect Oaks Alumni. Standing tall. Hair coiffed. Slacks freshly ironed. Shirt tucked the eff in. 

       What adjectives would you use to describe them? Are they smart? Are they white? Are their parents wealthy? Do the teachers love them?

*Say a sentence in Latin. Go ahead, I won't laugh. 

         Who are you saying it to? What are you saying to them? Does it help in any way shape or form other than to show off the fact that you know Latin? Have you ever used it outside of a party trick or maybe to half way remember medical terms? Does your knowledge of Latin serve to acknowledge another culture and show respect and help build bridges?       

*It’s almost time for the Civil War!!! What side are you hoping to be on?! 

          Why did you or your friends want that side? Did your classmates or teachers talk about race at all? Did you have discussions on the history of slavery, or the anything after the emancipation proclamation? Jim Crow laws? Tulsa? 

*Quick! Point out Mesopotamia on a map!! Just kidding, it doesn't matter. 

*Who in your class got attention grabbers? 

Cuz we all knew right? We all knew exactly what grades everyone had. The memory of seeing those small angry hemorrhoid colored papers gives my heart palpitations to this day. 

                  Here’s what I will say about The Oaks. It exists in a bubble and its goal is to protect and serve the people within that bubble. Anyone who doesn’t fit neatly within its borders either gets kicked out or choses to leave of their own accord. It’s a convenient system that keeps the bubble looking, feeling, and sounding the same as it always was. No envelopes pushed. No feathers ruffled. No more problems. A large way that they protect themselves and that precious “sameness” is by using shame and pride. If you fit in the bubble it is the best feeling in the world. The satisfaction of knowing you are safe and right is a wonderful thing. Leaving the bubble is terrifying and can lead to a full blown midlife crisis. 

                   I did not want to leave this bubble. I fought tooth and nail- I would come back to alumni dinners, I chaperoned a Europe trip, even coached the volleyball team with zero knowledge or skill (Sorry girls, we literally never won). My bubble popped very slowly, very painfully. Which is interesting because holding onto the bubble meant being very cruel to myself. It meant using shame and the constant fear of being judged as my primary motive for inspiration. It meant believing that my body did not belong to me-it was something that existed for men to either stumble over or marry. It meant thinking that humility and 'death to self' meant advocating for yourself is sinful. That standing up for yourself and stating your needs is wrong, ESPECIALLY as a woman. 

              I guess my bubble finally popped when I met other people. People who I loved and respected who didn't fit in the bubble. People who didn't call themselves Christians and yet were more christlike than anyone I knew. The love I had seen modeled for me at the Oaks is very much conditional. It has limits. There are clear lines that cannot be crossed, pieces of yourself that must be chopped off in order to fit. But how can you, as a fallible human with imperfect logic and the ability to be wrong, gamble that your beliefs are worth cutting someone out? Are you that sure? Is it that important to risk hurting someone? Is it more important to be right and maintain the bubble than it is to meet someone where they are at? 

                The Oaks would of course say that tough love is real love. That true biblical love means drawing lines and not letting people get away with their nonsense. So I guess we can agree to disagree, because it didn't feel that way to me. I didn't feel that way when my mom was excommunicated from her church and her community. It didn't feel that way when none of my friends knew how to talk to me about what was happening in my life. It didn't feel like love to see people at my mother's funeral and have them come give me a hug when just months ago they would have ignored her in the street. There was no space for her. There was no space for her brokenness or her pain or her messed up serotonin levels. I have never seen anyone search after God's love like my mother in the last months of her life. Seek so strongly for redemption or grace. And so many people, myself included didn't know how to show it to her because we never learned how. We never learned how to handle broken people or how to be broken people. So when I was struggling with depression I had no idea what to do. I hid, I slept, I prayed, I hated myself. I remember trying to graduate nursing school and finally having to tell one of my professors what was going on with me. I was so apologetic and had a whole speech planned out. I COULD NOT believe it when she understood immediately and just held my hand. While crying in her office I felt safer than I did with people I have known for years. 

 

This is what I have learned in the 9 years since my Oaks graduation thanks to friends and a ton of therapy (highly recommend by the way)

*Evidence based practice shows that it is ineffective and damaging to a child's mental health to use corporeal or shame based punishment. The Oaks does not concern itself with evidence based practice and teachers routinely use 'name on the board', attention grabbers, pushups in front of classmates and spanking. This does not foster trust or growth, it taught me to fear authority and hide everything wrong with me at all costs. The fact that the school bases its disciplinary system not off of science and evidence based practice, but instead from extrapolating biblical text is irresponsible. 

*Latin is a waste of time and only used to impress potential parents. 

*The Oaks picks and chooses when it allows science a seat at the table. Mental health is seen at best as a form of weakness and at worst a sin or the result of someone not praying hard enough. My mother was seen as a wicked sinner instead of someone struggling with borderline personality disorder. I cannot overemphasize how detrimental and evil this is. How many people this hurts. 
*I literally know nothing about geography but can still tell you the Battle of Hastings was in 1066 and that is a huge waste. 

*The Oaks presents a world where people outside of the bubble have no value. The fact that the curriculum did not include authors of different races/ethnicities/beliefs implicitly informed us that these authors were simply not important to our education. This is what racism looks like. It’s the nasty, sneaky underbelly of a system that exclusively elevates white voices. Who does this community serve but the same people who look and think exactly like them? Who is seen as important or valuable or wise but the people who look and think exactly like them?

*It is ok to not know for sure. It is ok to feel uncomfortable and to listen to someone without thinking of the perfect logical tool to break them down. It is ok to try and understand where someone is coming from before passing judgement. It is ok to feel sad or angry or frustrated. These are things that you are supposed to learn in kindergarten and I am still learning at 31 year old. 

 

                 Lets be real, when I think of the Oaks (religious leaders in their community who are sure that they are right and hold onto their righteousness with an iron fist at the expense of everyone and everything) I see the Pharisees, not Jesus. True humility requires vulnerability. It requires the ability to listen and understand. I know so many people at the Oaks who have caused others pain. So many people who in the name of 'Christ' or 'justice' or 'iron sharpening iron' have humiliated and crushed rather than listened and learned. 

                I have been terrified for years to write this letter. I have always pictured Mr Williams or Mr. Palpant or Mr. Collender sitting on the other side of it, shaking their heads at my silliness and grading me for poor grammar and not using Aristotle' tools of pathos. But this letter is not for Mr. Palpant or Mr. Collender. It is for anyone who understands what I am saying. It is for parents who were told the Oaks was the best thing for their children. It is for me to express what I have held onto for a long time. 

 

Maybe you are like me and you think of the perfect Oaks alumni as someone who can never understand. Maybe you are like me and can acknowledge that 8 years of Latin never helped you learn another language like they told you it would. Maybe you are like me and the first feeling you have when you think about relationships is shame. Maybe the anxiety over grades gave you an ulcer. Maybe your parents are divorced, or you struggle with mental health or a hundred other things that make you feel like you don't fit. Its ok. The pieces I cut off grew back. 

And the bubble is not impermeable. There are plenty of beautiful, miraculous, incredible things waiting for you on the other side of that shiny fake barrier. 

PS

Please reach out if you are struggling. 

Please ask for help. 

I always have a cell phone, an email or a beer in the fridge and can listen.

Love Sam

samanthadupree14@gmail.com