Internal Dialogue

A returning subject between me and my friends is that of our origins. Our past. Our history, so to speak. Even though we’ve ‘only’ known each other for about nine years, certain things are already beginning to fade. But there are other things that we still remember vividly. So vividly that they could have happened yesterday. When we’re together we often reminisce about our past. Most prominently, the things we used to do in high school. I’ve often written about this, too. I’ve even created a short film about who we are, how we met and what we do. But none of these attempts succeeded in accurately conveying how I experienced the whole thing. They were never written from my personal perspective.

So, because I think it’s a story worth sharing, but more because it’s something I don’t want to forget, here’s the Fonzie story from my personal perspective.

My first two years in high school weren’t exactly fun. I didn’t have a lot of friends, and the two people I did hang out with weren’t exactly friends either. For some it’s to be expected: you start out at the bottom of the food chain. Everyone looks up at the seniors: although unspoken, they’re boss. I’m not implying that those two years were a hell, but the harsh reality I had suddenly been put in, combined with the dysfunctional group I belonged didn’t make my life any easier or fun. Things escalated so much that, together with the other two boys, I ended up having group sessions with the school psychiatrist. Basically said we were all unpopular, but this was the only thing keeping us together. We were so different from each other that it just didn’t work. One of the other two was so overactive that he had a tendency to engage in violence, and this wasn’t helping either. While I was there it dawned on me. What was I still doing there? I needed to separate myself. Easier said than done, though. Anything is better than to be alone.

When my third year started, our class was separated. One of the boys went to a higher education class, and the other one ended up in the same class as me. I also wasn’t seeing the psychiatrist anymore (lucky for me, they were so boring and completely useless). The other (higher educated) boy had taken over all the sessions anyway with endless crying, so I was very relieved to hear it wasn’t necessary for me to join them anymore.

I was already expecting this year to be as bad (or worse) as the last one, but I had no idea that everything was about to change. When the third year started, what was left of my class was mixed up with what was left of another class that was separated. One of the people that joined my class was a guy called Ivan. I didn’t pay much attention to him at first – I’m sure he didn’t pay much attention to me either – but he started to hang out with me and my dysfunctional group during break time. He didn’t speak at first; he was very quiet and observant. But the overactive guy quickly drew him into our silly games, and he became part of our group. At that time I didn’t really talk to Ivan that much, but it was evident he was what I had been waiting for. Someone to hold on to, because I couldn’t handle these two other boys anymore. Things were escalating quickly, and even though at times I enjoyed myself, things got more destructive by the day.

During these breaks we always gathered in a certain hallway. We never went outside, we stayed in a hallway we called “the math hallway”. Obviously, all the mathematical courses were given in the rooms adjacent to that hallway. We choose it because it was usually very quiet (we had that place to ourselves), it offered a view of the entire school grounds, and most importantly: we could do whatever we wanted because no one was there to keep us in check. The things we did aren’t things I’m particularly proud of, but I don’t really regret them either. We were young and very active. And compared to the the overactive guy, I was actually very quiet. But sometimes he kinda pulled us up to his level. We ran through the hallways, threw with stuff, played soccer with empty (or full) cans of soda. Near the end of our stay there, certain tables and paintings even got demolished. Yet every time the teachers came, we always denied everything. And they believed us – nobody would ever have guessed that we created all that mess. In a very memorable incident, a first year class was given the assignment to redecorate this very same hallway. And yes, although it was funny we did feel sorry for them.

Eventually we had to leave because freshmen were kind of taking over our hallway and later because the hallway had even been declared off limits during break time because the property damage had become so extreme certain measures had to be taken. At this time we had already left: I guess our adventures inspired a new group of freshmen to follow in our footsteps. When we left, we emigrated to the hallway right below: the so-called “geography hallway”. You’d expect our childish adventures to continue, but this didn’t happen. You see, there was another reason we left the math hallway: it was because I had enough of these games. Ivan felt the same way – actually, at the time it was probably him who convinced me to leave the math hallway – and we left together. Unfortunately, the rest followed a few weeks later.

But things had changed. Ivan was no longer in the mood to play mister nice guy, and he was the first to reject these games and stop running around. I quickly followed him. I don’t think I could have done it by myself; he had the will to say no and the (sometimes physical) strength to back this up. From there, things changed even more quickly. The overactive guy got quite irritated – probably because at a certain point, I “stole” his girlfriend. Not that it was that difficult; everyone there could see that this guy was mentally still stuck in the first year of high school. You just had to point it out and everyone would realize he was a jackass (though he enjoyed getting people to feel sorry for him). His “power” to keep the game going and his ability to make people care for him even though he was a jackass were gone. It was also during this time that Ivan became a very good friend: I kind of introduced him to my online world/friends (which I eventually had to leave because of certain unrelated issues). At that time we talked almost every day and played games together over the internet.

During our fourth and fifth year, more people joined Ivan and me. I really don’t know how or why, but three other guys started to talk to us during class and we started to hang out with each other during break time. I hadn’t been aware of the transfer, but one day I realized that we were the seniors. No one was calling me names anymore, nobody was trying to pull anything. We weren’t screwing around anymore, either. We had grown up. At least in our ‘part’ of the school, we were now on top of the food chain. Sometimes the overactive guy would still join us and try to trick us into chasing him. But none of us complied, and after Ivan made it painfully clear that he should stop screwing around and another explosive incident during class between him and one of our new friends, he realized it was useless and left us alone.

We were especially well known in the computer area. I even got the system administrator to help me install Quake II on every computer so that we could play games during break time. We did what we wanted to. Except for courses we really liked, overachieving was a word that was not in our vocabulary. I remember countless times during which Ivan and I IM’ed each other things like: “Didn’t we have a report due tomorrow? It’s 22:00, so we’d better start working on it!”

Nevertheless, we made it through and had a lot of fun in the process. We didn’t stay inside anymore, either. During breaks we often went outside to walk around and talk. During the fifth year (November 2001) I started an internet forum, and everyone in our group quickly joined. We called our group Fonzie, which was a play on the name of the overactive boy’s father. The cleverly titled Fonzie Forum became quite popular among us, and in the beginning we even spent our entire breaks sitting next to each other in the computer room, posting messages. I can’t remember if we even realized that we could just talk to each other, but I guess it was more fun to post in threads and talk to each other online.

Near the end of high school (January 2002) we had our first lan party at Ivan’s place. It was a great success, and at this point it became clear to me that we weren’t going to lose contact once we finished high school.

But what happened next was beyond all my expectations.

[ Continued in Part II ]