When the ban was finally lifted, enough time had passed that they simply let it go and didn’t revisit the issue. Bernie grieved in his own way over the loss of that relationship. He even came close to splitting, but something kept him from leaving… maybe it was the hope that something would change or maybe his survival instinct finally kicked into play. For a long time after that the light that had burned so brightly in Bernie had been doused by pain and became a mere smoldering ember waiting to be reignited. Bernie’s entire peer group saw his sadness and felt it along with him, yet none of us could do anything to help him. All each of us could do was continue to be his friend. Having a shoulder to cry on can be helpful, but it's no replacement for the arms of the person you love. Bernie finally recovered and continued to be Bernie until the day he left and Jill went on to marry Kevin.
On the opposite extreme, two people might be placed on a ban if they didn't get along. Bickering and petty tit for tat nonsense ran rampant at times among the residents, but when it got to the point of becoming a noticeable problem, the parties involved were separated with the use of a ban. Naturally, physical fighting was not tolerated (physical contact included physical violence unless if was being administered by staff). Doing underhanded things to someone a resident perceived as being an enemy was also frowned upon because those deeds usually escalated into eventual violence. Staff thought placing people who didn't get along on a ban was a preventative measure aimed at giving the people a chance to cool off and think about their differences realistically. Sometimes the ban worked and when it was lifted the two people eventually became friends, but other times no matter what was done, people who became enemies stayed enemies. It was just human nature and no amount of therapy could make you like someone you thought was a real asshole or bitch. No person is ever going to like everyone they meet and certainly, no person is ever going to let other people pick their friends for them especially not in an environment like Kinsman Hall where the bruised and battered psyches and egos were anything, but harmonious. The people who became friends were friends with each other because they were true kindred spirits.
Yes, bans were used as therapeutic tools, but more often than not, they were used as a form of punishment. Naturally, if you disliked a person you could care less if a ban was sanctioned, but if the object of your affection or a close friend was suddenly taken from you, it was like having your heart ripped out of your chest and then stuffed back in sideways. Love and bans just weren’t a good combination, but they were one most everyone at Kinsman Hall became familiar with when they fell in love or formed close friendships.
While some residents were constantly being placed on bans with people, I spread my action quite successfully and dodged dealing with the ban dilemma. In the 2 years I was there, I was only placed on one ban. That ban was an existence ban with the whole house and had nothing to do with my relationship with anyone. It was imposed as both a form of punishment and as a motivational tool to get me to do what the powers that be wanted me to do. That ban made me as invisible as I felt most of the time anyway. For most of my stay at Kinsman Hall, I blended in fairly well and never did anything too outrageous to be a constant reminder to staff that I needed heavy discipline. Perhaps what I perceived as blending in fairly well, in reality, wasn’t blending in well at all. Maybe due to my circumstances, I wasn’t in any position to ever be one of the Kinsman Hall’s key players. Neither my family nor I had anything anyone wanted, so I was never a target to be manipulated or used. Mine for the most part were minor infractions of the rules which made life as bearable as it could be considering my surroundings. One of my biggest mishaps was towards the tail end of my days at Kinsman Hall. Perhaps it was that wild hair in me, the one that calls from time to time and beckons me to do something totally outrageous or maybe I just grew weary of being a drone and alone. When all decisions are being made for you by other people and your place is just to be part of the herd and to follow the rules of the program, after awhile resistance is a must in order to maintain self-dignity and the belief that you haven’t become just another sell-out. Toeing the line has never been my strong point. I know that comes as no surprise to anyone who has ever known me. Let's just say the rules I did break at Kinsman Hall, for the most part, went unnoticed. Unlike others, I never needed or wanted the spotlight to be on me.
The time warp in which I lived those two years still has a mark on my soul. The imprint remains with me as a reminder of what society is capable of doing. It haunts me each time I realize something I missed during my absence from the real world. No contact was allowed with the outside world during most of my time at Kinsman Hall, but what I didn’t realize was that not all residents had the same restrictions. How or why I missed that, I don't really know. Maybe I just didn't care about the outside world because I felt I had no where to go upon leaving Kinsman Hall. What little bit of info that leaked in from the outside world was given to us by staff or by residents who had been granted visits, but for the most part those two years, I was on an existence ban with the rest of the world. In so many ways, my senses still feel the effects of that ban each time I hear a song, see a movie, read a book or just have a conservation pertaining to that time period. The things I missed can never be replaced and the things I lost during and shortly after Kinsman Hall will remain with me always. It is a void I will always feel.
From the time we are old enough to learn, we are taught what our society deems as absolute truths and acceptable behaviors. Slowly, we learn Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny and the tooth fairy are all figments of our young imaginations. Slowly, we learn how many times we've been lied to and used. Slowly, we replace our juvenile fantasies with others more complex and harder to dispel, yet the absolute truths remain steadfast. They are, if nothing else… the truth!
However, what happens when a person discovers that some of those absolute truths are not so absolute? How does it change us when we discover truth is actually a very subjective concept that can be twisted and manipulated until it no longer resembles what we first learned? Thou shall not kill seems easy to comprehend, yet even that truth has an exception. Killing is seen as being acceptable when done in acts of war and self-defense. Every truth seems to have a loophole and loopholes eventually make the truth seem like some watered down concept. During our years before Kinsman Hall, everyone learned how to twist and transform those truths and find all the loopholes and most of us continued to do so during our time at Kinsman Hall.
As we experience life, our perspective sometimes begins to morph. The amount a person’s perspective actually changes depends upon the degree of harshness to which they are exposed especially when they are young and tender. As we grow and learn, many times we find ourselves at a crossroad questioning fundamental concepts like should we really not judge a book by its cover or is doing a good job really all that matters?
As my transformation occurred, I developed some healthy skepticism and a “show me” attitude. I seemed to require tangible proof before I believed anything. It wasn’t long before I learned doing a good job was not the actual key to success at Kinsman Hall nor to positive recognition. The real key was learning how to build a believable facade at times or what we called “an act as if.” More importantly, choosing the right circle of friends seemed to be a key to instant success and to moving towards completing the program with the least resistance and to experiencing certain liberties that the rest failed to have.
I saw some people who struggled with accepting that resistance was futile until the day they left Kinsman Hall. They were constantly being disciplined and got far more attention than what they really deserved or their behavior merited. In fact, misbehaving and doing poorly seemed to make it easy for other residents to fall through the cracks and to remain virtually unnoticed. Not everyone needed to take center stage and demand attention as if they were acting out some part in a play. Others didn’t mind being the audience who watched and observed. Remaining invisible or being part of the inner circle was what the smart residents strived to do. For the majority who weren’t invisible and who weren’t part of the chosen inner circle, they had no steep price to pay for the role they played in the Kinsman Hall family. They simply existed and didn’t rock the boat.