High School Initiation: Embarrassment and Shame

It doesn’t take long to get over embarrassment. At 2:30 a.m. standing in my room in my underwear I quickly gathered my wits. Perhaps I can attribute my quick wits to the fact that everyone else in the room had taught me how to debate. The protestations flowed quickly as I expressed the pros and cons of what they were planning to do. Certainly I made compelling arguments but they were not deterred, yet clearly sympathetic they gave me three choices.

I could come with them in my pajamas.

I could wear a lovely dress.

They would carry me out in my underwear.

There were no obstacles in 1983

About an hour later, after making stops to pick up remaining victims I found myself walking into the Salt Lake International airport in my pajamas and a tie, surrounded by five equally ridiculously attired friends. Our first task toward humiliation involved swimming around the world. At the main entrance to the salt lake airport, in the floor, is a world map with about a 25 foot radius. We all had to lie on the floor and swim around the oceans until we successfully swam around the world. Prior to 9-11, 2001 airport security chuckled as high schoolers behaved this way so none of us were cited or arrested.

Not the Howard Johnson's

Our captors then took me and my friend Curtis to the Howard Johnson's Hotel. Our task was to go in and determine the cost for a particular suite. Entering the spacious lobby we fortunately found ourselves alone except for the front desk employees. Sauntering in my pajamas and Curtis decked out in a dress we gracefully approach the counter. In the most sophisticated voices we can muster we ask, “How much does your honeymoon suite cost?” I have never stayed at a Howard Johnson's property before nor since, but in 1983, the Howard Johnson's Hotel offered no suites, just single rooms.

But the most embarrassing moment of the night didn’t occur at the hotel; it was yet to come. In fact, for sheer embarrassment it might not occur until right now. Our captors took us up to a graveyard in the Salt Lake avenues. After finding an appropriately spooky spot in the predawn morning they broke out a box of cereal with a bowl for each of us. We could leave when we had eaten the cereal. The twist was we had to eat it with powdered milk.

1/3 cup to each cup of water

Someone asked, “Does anyone know how to make this stuff?” I stayed silent and no one else replied. So one captor added several tablespoons to two quarts of water. I nervously choked down the cereal covered in pale-white water. It was as gross and soggy as it sounds. But I avoided revealing a secret that I desperately wanted hidden. I knew how to make powdered milk because I had consumed it my whole life. You add 1/3 a cup of powdered milk for every cup of water.

Yes the worst part of initiation came from my own shame.