Screaming Jackalope (of the North Zulch Jackalopes), Part the First

I’d originally settled on Flying Jackalope (which is technically a wolpertinger), but then Black Dog decided to change his name to Flying Black Dog, and I was like, “Well, shit. We’re not even related.” However, I’d also lost my voice after the mass Ululate Your Feelings assembly, and I’d already had like three or four nervous breakdowns by that point, so Screaming was ultimately the more appropriate descriptor for my Jackalopiness.

Long story short, I survived my New Warrior weekend.

Participants signed confidentiality agreements before the weekend began, and even though something happened early on that, as far as I’m concerned, rendered the contract null and void (more on this in a second), I’m going to (mostly) adhere to it, for a couple of reasons:

  • The weekend itself was initiatory, and as such, I don’t want to create expectations or provide spoilers for anyone reading this who might be interested in attending a New Warrior event in the future.
  • The other guys with whom I went through the process need to be able to tell their own stories. I don’t get to do that for them.

With those bullet points out of the way, I’m going to break with workshopping tradition and start with the negatives.

My biggest concern was what we were and were not allowed to bring to the retreat, since the introductory material I’d received via email was vague on the issue. I’ve got a few possessions — a watch Ben gave me; my prayer beads; a couple of other doodads — that act as touchstones when my panic disorder flares up, and as irrational as it might be, I didn’t want to be deprived of them. A friend of mine had gone through the training and was going to be on staff while I was there, so I called him for clarification, and he told me I wouldn’t be forced to turn over anything I wanted to keep with me. Relief washed over and stayed with me, right up until intake, when one of those items was declared contraband and requisitioned. I freaked out so badly that I basically got sent to the principal’s office, where two very nice staff members tried very gently to convince me to leave said item in their care.

Alas, my hands were neither cold nor dead, and panic was quickly being replaced with rage. Once they realized I’d been lied to, and in the interest of preventing me from kicking over a table and jackaloping off into the night, they told me to hang onto it but keep it out of sight, which I was more than happy to do. Thing is, a big part of New Warrior training is learning to trust other men, and my training started with a betrayal of trust. It took most of the weekend to recover from that, and I missed out on some stuff that could’ve been beneficial, because I kept my walls way the fuck up while everyone else was letting theirs down. Additionally, since one staffer had already been dishonest with me, I saw no reason to trust the rest of them, and I stubbornly refused anything I perceived as attempted indoctrination (all of which turned out to be innocuous).

New Warrior Training draws inspiration from the works of Joseph Campbell, the poetry of Robert Bly (particularly Iron John), Jungian archetypes, and what was consistently referred to as “traditional tribal culture,” the last of which was problematic for me. The Warriors themselves put quite a bit of effort into explaining why what they do is not cultural appropriation, but I’d be curious to know if they know where the imagery and practices they incorporate actually come from. The word aho, for example, used among the New Warriors as a general affirmative, means “hello” in Lakota, “thank you” in Kiowa, and “fishing line” in Hawaiian. The closest to New Warrior usage would come from the Cherokee language, in which aho roughly translates as “amen,” but I kind of wish the Warriors would just make up their own tribal-esque word and run with that, versus romanticizing and repurposing an existing word without documenting where they found it.

Male privilege ran unchecked as well throughout the weekend. The New Warriors (and their parent organization, the ManKind Project) are big on “real” men being able to identify and express their emotions, which is awesome. At the same time, they could’ve thrown in a “Real Men Work Proactively to Dismantle Institutionalized Sexism” Q&A without drifting from their mission statement or taking time away from the guided meditations and group hugs.

I did enjoy the group hugs, though.

Anyway, enough with the bad stuff. Positives and unexpected friendships with ex-cons coming soon.

2 thoughts on “Screaming Jackalope (of the North Zulch Jackalopes), Part the First”

  1. I’m really sorry to hear that your weekend started out so antithetically to the entire goal of the event. That’s a shame. I perused their website that you linked to a few posts back and while it does seem very “real man”-centric (I personally disagree with their assessment that “the hero’s journey” has disappeared in modern culture), I think it ultimately seems like it could be beneficial to someone looking to grow in a relatively safe environment. So, it’s a shame that they made you feel unsafe as soon as you walked in the door.
    I look forward to reading about the positives and your new ex-con friend(s?), though!

    Liked by 1 person

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