By Scott Sonnon 24

THINGS
GHANGE
By Scott Sonnon
I was an adolescentwhen I was immersed into the mainstreampopulation of the public school system.The admin-
When I receivedmy acceptanceletter to Mensa, I burst
into tears. Words cannot describemy gratitude for standing
istration was under strict legal confidentiality to not disclose
that I had spentthe better part ofa year in the psychiatric
asylum. Within a week it had leakedto the studentbody.
I had been committed due to mental conditions that
among such rich intellectual capital. I haven't sharedthis
story publicly before becauseof the long-festeringshame
which accompaniedit. Being acceptedinto Mensa has given
me the courageto sharethis story.
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weren't fully understoodat the time. When I first began
mirror-image writing, I had been labeledretarded,suffering
Mensa Bulletin
an arcayof learning disabilities which many years later were
categorizedas dysphonetic,dyseidetic and "double deficit"
dyslexia, and attention deficit hyperactive disorder'
Already socially ostracizeddue to obesity,physical frailty
causedby ajoint diseasecalled osteochondrosisand impoverishment only magnified the violence visited upon me. But
the emotional ridicule cut deeperthan knives.
I recall one of the early days of my return to mainstream
junior high school.
In social studies,
the teacherwas
attempting to teach
us the meaning
ofan "inverse
relationship" -
us-
ing the example of
unemployment and
education.None of
the studentsunderstood her question.
Sherepeatedly asked,"if
unemployment
and educationare
plea of innocence,so rapidly trying to explain my intent that
I could not utter an intelligible word.
I cried from the pain of the two-inch-thick paddle, but
more from the humiliation of standing there in my underwear while the entire classlaughed.Again, the retard sideshow carnival. On the 10th strike, shemissed my easytarget
and the paddle snappedover my coccyx. I collapsedin agony
as lightning shot up my spine and down my leg'
In the nurse'soffice, the vice-principal was talking to my
mother at my bed. In my fog of pain, I made out phraseslike,
"We understandthat her consequenceswere a tad excessive,
but your son has severeproblems and the normal disciplinary
actions aren't modifying his behavior."
My mother found all manner of alternative education to
support my genetichurdles, such as educationin sevendifferent types of musical instruments to foster brain integration, Korean finger-counting technology - Chisanbop- to
conquermy dyslexia specific to mathematics,and a rare
(at the time) advancedphonics coursewhich catapultedmy
"learning-disabled" reading comprehensionwell beyond my
grade level. I was even taught break dancing and ballet to
help overcomemy retardedmotor development.
I took my SAT examstwo years after high school graduation, successfullycompletedthe required applicationsto
inverselyrelated,then how do you increaseunemployment?"
I understoodlogic puzzles.As a friendless kid, you turn to
gain studentgrants and loans, and reenteredthe world of
academia.I enrolled in a philosophy program and started
your own entertainment.I found mine in fantasy books, and
in particular in the mythological puzzles and riddles woven
seeking study-abroadoPtions.
For six years I studied back and forth throughout Russia,
and sevenyears with my satguru from India, Sri Mata Amri-
into the stories.
Typically, I kept my mouth closedbecauseas soonas I
openedit, my speechimpediments(apraxiaand anomia)led
to further ridicule. And I dreadedthe calls to the chalkboard,
sincethe dyslexiawrought havocon the legibility of my
writing skills. So, in my early teen forebrain,I thought, "how
could I answerher questionwithout speakinga word, or going
to the front of the classand writing it on the chalkboard?"
The teacherwas called out ofthe classroomand the
answer dawned on me! If you decreaseeducationto increase
unemployment,then I'd stay in the back of the room and flip
my desk upside down to representthe answer!
Unfortunately, my would-be pithy demonstrationturned
sour since as soon as I flipped my desk, all my classmates
thought I had initiated someprank and followed suit. The
teacherreturned to seechaos- a room full ofupturned
desksand a cacophonyofrevolting children. Her voice
boomed as she furiously demandedto know who started this
tanandamayiDevi. When I returned to the United Statesfor
the final time, I began sharing what I had learnedwith other
martial artists. That spreadto other professionalsports' like
hockey,baseballand football, which lead me to becoming a
physical educationprofessorfor Penn StateUniversity, which
in turn spawnedpublic speaking engagementswith fitness
organizations,youth conditioning, obesity and eventually
"anti-aging" and wellness eventsworldwide.
My life has come full circle: the first part spenttrying to
stop harm and damageto myself, and the secondcreating
greaterhealth and well-being within others.It has been quite
a roller-coastergetting to where I now have the privilege
of sharing what transformed me from one my teacherssaid
would never amount to anything, especiallyphysically, to a
hall offame-inducted producer,author and speaker.
Becauseof the big shouldersI stand upon, I came to realizethalmy genetic"defects" were blessingsallowing me to
classroomcoup. Of course,they unanimously pointed back
at my dumbfoundedgape.
Sheprompt$ produced a waffled wooden paddle from her
see,feel and think about the world in a wonderfully unique
way. Earning membershipinto Mensa was one of the pivotal
points in my life, as it vindicated my suffering, validated my
drawer and hushedthe entire audiencein one brandish, callins me to the front of the class.En route, I sadly bumbled a
mother's tenacioussupport, and honored the great teachers
I've been gracedwith.
September2008
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