Dear Editor:
This is a letter I recently wrote to my father. Based on the many conversations I have had with people on this campus and abroad, I believe that it may hold value and shed words of hope to others to let them know they are not alone.
Dad,
I have been going through a lot of stuff recently. I mean old crap and new good stuff, which kinda balances it out. I recently made a few new friends through Chi Alpha, a campus Christian group. Yeah yeah, I know, I know. But in our discussions, I found that we agreed on many more things than we disagreed on. Strange, right?
I was careful, with my natural distrust of authority, not to let too much out, but some of the stuff they talk about is either one hell of a sales pitch or maybe things they really believe in. I talked about Grandma Shram, about Father Duke, about my experience of just by chance writing fake notes to get out of school to go surfing and just by chance that Wednesday, Jan 21, 1998, hitting Montauk at 25 feet, 17 seconds.
And it got me thinking about the day Geoff Raicer and I were out at Belmar surfing and he said simply, "What if you are wrong about this God stuff?" And I simply said, "So be it - better to reign in hell than serve in heaven."
Well, perhaps I was wrong, because I was looking at the whole thing from the same perspective as the Jerry Falwell and Pat Robertson types. It's beyond that, dad, and I am starting to really come to grips with it, and it's not easy. Easy is listening to Christian radio and watching TCBN - all the while watching over while millions die of AIDS in Africa.
This is hard for me, Dad, looking over all my past transgressions, taking accountability - and all the while seeing the faults of you looking and glossing over Mom's issues. I never did anything to hurt anyone; This point I stand by. I always wanted to make a point. Unfortunately, it was not always construed this way.
All the years of seeing Mom drunk was not so bad. What was so bad was the bullying I encountered for years on end, the relentless torment. What was even worse was that I felt immense anger - and I felt bad for you for not having the gall to stand up to it. And what about me, you ask?
Suffield. The epitome of hypocrisy.
I saw stuff there, Dad, that would get the school's charter revoked. I experienced things that tell the tale of Holden Caufield.
And in the end, you ask why I am bitter?
I think I have explained enough.
In the end, I think we all need to look inside ourselves - what we see may not be pretty in pink, or black for the matter, but may be a bit of enlightenment.
Shadows look different depending on the way you see the light reflecting off the object. Do not ever, ever hesitate to question the way the object is presented to you. And always question the motives of who is presenting the object.
Christopher Perricone Senior, School of Public Affairs
