You wouldn’t think that writing a paper on religious cults would lead someone to a lifelong spiritual journey. If you didn’t grow up in Ohio or another Mid-west state, in a very isolated and controlled lifestyle, you really wouldn’t make that connection. This is how it happened for me and this is my gratitude to one teacher, for spurring on this moment in a little farm town called Pataskala.

Mr. Marty Dahlman was the P.O.D. teacher (Problems of Democracy) at Watkins Memorial High School. He went on to other things, such as a track coach, vice-principal or principle, I forget which. Once I left Ohio, I didn’t return until 2010, when I began catching up after this long absence at high school reunions. He is now retired from Watkins and writes a blogpost, called Our America – Essays on Politics and American Life.

I had always loved school, though in high school, it became tougher for me to relax and pay attention. Growing up in an abusive household, by my teens, I was trying to fight for my own independence from a narcissistic parent and constantly being pushed down. By the time I became a senior, the years of physical and emotional torment had only doubled when I fell into the lap of an older student who ended up being my next lesson in life (another life changing moment that I would eventually use one day for my qualitative thesis on batterers). While high school was a refuge at the same time it was when dissociation was at its strongest. Most of the time I missed out on much of what was said because I would be in another world. Then I would panic, hearing the end of a sentence and realizing I had no idea what the teacher was talking about. I ended up with a low g.p.a. as a result. It is interesting that I graduated cum laude a few years later, after I began to part from the abuse and focus on myself.

Mr. Dahlman was interesting to me as he seemed to have quite a varied life. He told us about his old car and working on Jimmy Carter’s campaign. I would later work on Ronald Reagan’s as a volunteer and then a paid worker for Frank Visco’s winning campaign (California State Vice Chairman). He spoke about our country and the world, the judicial system. My fellow students (the boys) were always trying to get him to go off topic and speak about something else. This silliness kept me focused more and I paid attention as a result. I was used to chaos at home.

Every senior year, which was when we took his class, he would make the students aware that we were going to be writing a term paper. This was a mandatory requirement for graduation, at that time. He told us it was going to be about 25 pages at the minimum, I believe, and that we should choose a topic in current events (1980). He said it would effectively change our life in some way. It would be with us for the rest of our lives. Maybe he said something similar, don’t quote me on this, that is what I interpreted from that lecture. He also gave some suggestions. The minute I heard 25 pages though, I was already wondering how I would be capable of writing, no typing, on a manual typewriter, this many words and sentences.

My family didn’t even own a typewriter, so I have no idea where it came from. I do recall sitting down on the floor with the typewriter between my legs. And, this highly sensitive person/empath (unknown awareness of this at the time) heard Mr. Dahlman mention religious cults and so my mind went back to the image of the Jim Jones massacre from a year prior. This clicked for me because I had seen the image in Newsweek magazine, a publication that was never in our house, but his best friend (another teacher) who I took a current events class from (I forget his name), had us buy a subscription to the magazine so we could learn about these current events. This magazine was fascinating to me. A chance to see a new world view, and as I am a visual learner, it helped me to focus as well.

I poured over resources in the library and took out books on cults, deprogrammer Ted Patrick but also began seeing other religions along the way in my research. I learned about Buddhism and Hinduism because they were linked to cults such as the Hare Krishna’s and the Reverend Sun Myung Moon. Since I am from Ohio, the only religions I was aware of were Christianity and Judaism. And, my worldview was limited to a cultural perspective including Ohio and Hungary, where my stepfather (adopted me at 9) was from. I went to a Hungarian church and once we danced at a Jewish facility, which between that and reading about Anne Frank and watching “The Holocaust” television series were my only knowledge of jews. I was beginning to take yoga from PBS with the Lillias Yoga and You classes, so I had heard her mention Hinduism a couple of times but it didn’t have the meaning I would later receive in life. None of this research would have the meaning it later took in my life. Right at that point, in 1980, I was on the precipice of learning and growing.

I should also point out that by the second semester, I was pregnant from that older student, my then fiancé. My life had been shaken up by the humiliation of being negatively perceived by others in school, church and my family. At the same time, preparing to end high school, writing this term paper on religious cults and subsequently marrying this fool, who I would later divorce within a couple of years time – by then in California, thanks to his enlistment in the Navy.

Writing this paper was now filled with even more emotional turmoil, yet I stuck with it nonetheless. It was my first time to passionately devote myself to something in school. Something that was all mine to focus on and learn about. I couldn’t talk to anyone around me as my family had no education and they didn’t understand what I was talking about by now anyway. My best friend – at Bishop Hartley High School – was more interested in discussing “Guiding Light” (soap opera) each day and was not much into intellectual and in depth talks. She is now a conspiracy theorist, using a pseudonym online. She is amusing but my tie to childhood and the first friend I remember meeting at the age of four. Our father’s lived together once (before my mother).

Unfortunately, but fortunately my beloved paper, which I thought was the most amazing thing I had ever written – it was the only thing, only received a “B-.” Mr. Dahlman wrote something like “Great paper, a little unorganized.” I now know that these type of grades really push people to sink or swim. As I am a strong woman, it taught me to take heed and learn to be more organized. I was very diligent in my personal life, my room was much more cleaner than my sister’s side. I was much more cautious and protective of my books, what few clothes I had and my “things.” I was extremely organized, but needed to learn what an organized paper meant. I would one day. I so wish I still had this paper as I would love to read what I wrote at 17 years old. It was lost in my escape from the ex in San Diego.

And now to my spiritual life as a result of this paper. Religious cults and Jim Jones were never far from the back of my mind. Those other religions that popped up along the research journey I wondered about. I went on to continue my study of yoga, which included Kundalini – or the yoga of the gurus. I took the “Forum,” (originally called EST) and was involved in this group for many years in Los Angeles. My first real love’s mother (post-marriage) was a Cherokee and a Buddhist and a Clairvoyant. She became my first spiritual teacher until she died in 2012. She was a mother to me as well, who helped guide me on my path forward. I met her in 1982. She understood my early foray onto a spiritual path. I told her about the dreams I had in childhood, about my attempts at meditation, my love of women’s history, my questions about religion that were never answered, the family ordeal I had been through, my ex-husband, and from this she validated me as a person. She explained what I had seen, learned and wondered.

While I started my collegiate pursuit in fashion, what I loved as a young girl, it was never enough for me. What it gave me was the courage to consider psychology, due to that cum laude award at graduation. Though I still didn’t feel smart enough to get my doctorate, receiving a master’s was fulfilling enough for me. I still couldn’t do well on testing though, and it would take some time before I received my license. The university I picked was a liberal one, which was not about grades (though I did get them if I wanted) and why our thesis was qualitative vs. quantitative. I went on to open my business, upon returning to Ohio and now write immigration evaluations (15-20 pages), as well as working with clients experiencing trauma, including narcissistic survivors.

My early psychology career took me back to Jim Jones as my first real job, post grad school, was in Oakland, California which was a significant part of the People’s church and their final trek to Guyana. I only heard his name come up a couple of times, as a social worker out in the trenches of one of the most dangerous cities in this country. I understood there why people, out on the streets, would easily turn to some man who held promise and a future. A man who validated their victimization and appeared to turn their lives around. Working for Children’s Protective Services, I was in my first foray of forensic psychology and in the best place to study the worst of the worst and how it begins. I was there when Jaycee Dugard (found thanks to a security guard at UC Berkeley) was located. I watched on TV the Susan Polk story, which I will be discussing in a couple of weeks as I give a talk to therapists on countertransference and transference issues. I was in Los Angeles (prior to this) for the Rodney King riots, which caused me to leave and in the Bay Area during the accidental shooting of Oscar Grant at the BART station, where I had been only a few months prior. And when I was there, I was trying to get a woman to stop beating her toddler child – in the head – with several of her other children nearby. I bravely stood up to her as I was caught up in being triggered by her actions. This was very unwise as I was a minority at this Fruitvale station and any number of things could have taken place. Everyone just stared at me in disbelief. I was not in my professional capacity, just on my way to a concert in San Francisco with another social worker who did nothing.

Between the spiritual, psychological and even physical awareness that I gained over these years, I could say more but I would end up talking forever, I have my teacher, Mr. Dahlman to thank. It may seem quite odd, but I have thought about this for many years. It kept popping up in my mind, I wished that I could tell him as I thought it would be nice for him to know how he was so pivotal in my growth. I thought I would want to know if I were a teacher. I didn’t know how until now. Even now it seems silly and childish, but at the same time, it feels like I have released something positive out into the world. Something to help other teachers understand how important it is to educate young minds. Not to give them your worldview and push it on them, but to give them a glimpse into knowledge so they can take it where ever they wish. So that they can grow and expand their minds. We have to figure the world out for ourselves. You can’t imagine how vulnerable and naïve these young people are, especially someone from a tumultuous household. Not unless you have been there.

Thank you Mr. Dahlman, for challenging our minds and pushing us to grow. Thank you for giving us those 25 piddly pages to write, which is nothing now to me, and for being subtle yet persuasive in a kind and caring way. Thank you for giving me the key to unlock the door to reality, the world, to life outside of my comfort zone and to the growth I have achieved along the way. While I have no doubt you would ever remember someone as feeble and unintelligent as I once was, at least I was able to know you. For this, I will forever be grateful.