In-School Programming

Some memories of note regarding how programs and handling operated at my elementary school......

All of our teachers seemed privy to insider information about the future of technology and its impact on society and work. They tended to over-complicate basic math and science curriculum with lectures about how important it was for all of us to master these skills, even if we weren't going into a technical profession. They were right about that but very heavy-handed about it and not helpful to kids like me who just needed them to keep it simple, not pair it with apocalyptic visions of being too stupid to use an ATM machine properly.

I could be imagining this but I also think I remember our P.E./Science teacher giving us an entire lesson on skepticism one time. He spent the whole period talking to us about people who believe in things like aliens and cryptids and how he wanted us all to learn to debunk these things with science. He said it was our Christian duty to deprogram others from believing in these things.

On various occasions we were given hemispheric specialization tests under the guise of 'fun personality quizzes'. These types of tests were presented as "breaks" from whatever subject we were studying. None of us minded because it usually felt in some of our classes that we were getting crammed with college level amounts of information.  By just the second grade they were forcing us to learn the taxonomy of everything in nature and didn't care that none of us spoke Latin. We were just to memorize the words even if they were gibberish in the hopes that we'd recognize the origins when we did take Latin.

These types of things were typical of the environment and although it seemed out of the ordinary to me I was encouraged to explain it away as "just a fancy school experimenting with alternative lesson plans."

The more blatant programming, for me, happened during 5th grade computer science with the handler from the Y. Whenever she was programming us as a group she would start by giving us all a drink and a snack. Looking back on this, she had to have put drugs in our drinks for her to be able to get away with what she was saying and have none of us interrupt her.  I can remember hearing her describe the deterioration programs of at least 7 people (including me) in class. I can also remember her using the term "T.I.", targeted individual, and about some of us being "in the cross-hairs" of a group of Nazis.

Then, there were the private sessions that she did with some of us. She started out holding us after class for 5 to 10 minutes and then increased the time a bit by getting the class moved to the end of the day so that she could work with us during carpool instead of making us late to other teacher's classes. 
These private sessions had a lot to do with controlling alters. I can remember her explaining the concept of "spinning" to me. She described future traumas and what type of spinning they would cause as well as what I needed to do to stop it. She seemed to be putting trigger words in front of me and testing me for the reaction. If I seemed to get confused or panic, she would say "Control-Alt-Delete. Go to the home screen."  We were actually working on all this on a computer with some type of program she'd set up for it. 

She also had set up something she called "learning your script." This was very strange since the "script" was a lot of CIA word play gibberish. I recovered what I think is most of the script several years ago and wrote it down on an app in an old cell phone. I can't recall all of it right now and I can't turn that phone back on, but I do remember this part:

'My name is an E.T. phoneme. Phone me.
 Call me, Marsy Device."

Marsy Device was an elide for "Marcy Davis", which wasn't her name at all, but the name of the mother of another survivor who lived in my handler's home state. As my life played out, however, this pairing made no sense. I knew I had met Marcy but I never had the ability to call her nor could I call my handler. All of my interactions with other survivors or members of "the network" were timed and controlled by my handlers and would set upon me without any warning. Bam! Here's Marcy! Bam! Here's Marcy's kid.  I had no say in any of it.  I was merely being "exposed" to a lot of people and information and, it seems, asked to remember all of it. 


That "job", if you want to call it that, is something I feel like I was programmed for inside and outside of school. School, however, gave her a lot more leeway on certain things she wanted to do. No one batted an eye if she wanted to work one on one or with a small select group of us. I can still remember her pulling me aside one day and asking me to help her find "the key to Pandora's Box". She had been asking me a lot about keys at that time and for some reason the only thing I could think to do is figure out where to steal some. So, I stole keys out of an abandoned car at the mall as well as a whole pile that were set aside at school as something for us to play with. 

I feel bad about that now and don't know why I was doing it. But in my situation I learned to swallow remorse and guilt for helping the criminals around me do what they claimed they needed to do to help me. If I'm being generous to myself, I'd say it's like Don Johnson on Miami Vice being forced to smuggle cocaine in order to save his own life. I had to do a lot of things that were wrong and pretend that it wasn't me. Once I realized that procuring all these keys for her wasn't changing anything I decided that she was just trying to turn me into a thief or shoplifter. 

I stopped doing her dirty work at school and started paying more attention to who she was outside the classroom. Learning to recognize those two personas as the same person was probably one of the hardest things I had to do. It would be a while until I made that connection, though.  She disappeared my 6th grade year, and the other computer science teacher said "She got divorced and had a heart attack."  So, I thought this handler was dead. It wasn't until I had moved on to Junior High/High School that I realized she and the other one were still alive and well and tracking me.