This is a blog I never thought I’d ever write. Truth be told, the story I’m about to share nearly escaped my memory. Sometimes, I think that’s a healthy thing.
I’ll lead with a little disclaimer here. I think there are many cases of sexual assault, abuse, etc., that are far ‘worse’ than what I encountered. However, there’s a part of me that feels like it’s time to get this story off of my chest – because it happened, and it left an impact on me that took many years to navigate and work through.
Recently, my older brother, Steve, suggested I watch a documentary titled “Surviving Ohio State” which chronicled a series of sex abuse scandals THE Ohio State University has done their best to cover up, buy out or deny ever happened. The denial/hush tactics he mentioned didn’t really surprise me, given the Big 10 school was always more interested in their football/finances rather than the well-being of their students and staff.
When I first began my full-time education at the Ohio State University (it’s not worthy of a capital T, in My opinion) I was fifteen years-old. As a 15 year-old student with a Buck ID card, I had full access to all of the facilities on campus; from the computer lounges to their antiquated gym, Larkins Hall; the same gym my parents frequented during their college days. By the time I attended OSU, Larkins was in desperate need of a renovation/demolition.
At that time, I still had my childish innocence to some degree. Nothing ‘bad’ had ever happened to me, and I typically viewed most strangers I encountered at OSU as being ‘good’, especially at OSU. Why? Well, going there had such an air of prestige and accomplishment and I worked somewhat hard to make it in as a participant in the ‘academy program’.
When I was a boy, I grew up in a time where showers at athletic clubs weren’t closed-off from each other. Rather, I remember going to Sawmill Athletic Club and showering off in an open space. Often, there would be older men showering in the shower area, who seemed to have no qualms about cleaning themselves off in a ‘public’ private space.
At that time, it was as normal as can be to have had an open shower environment. To the best of my memory, I never encountered anything nefarious or inappropriate. Rather, I was simply a young boy that grew up in ‘locker room’ culture with a bunch of wealthy older men who treated the club more like a social club than a place to get fit.
To me, it was completely normal. Nothing bad happened. And that’s the way it’s supposed to be.
In those days, the locker room was a bustling hub of activity, conversation and men using the countless sink ‘vanity’ areas to shave, do their hair and spray on sticky deodorant that I never liked using. There were glass containers filled with sanitizing solution and combs – also something you don’t see in modern day athletic clubs.
Having grown up in this sort of environment, I didn’t bat an eye when it came time to go to OSU’s athletic facility; Larkins Hall. More than anything, I expected the same sort of locker room social club that I encountered at ‘Sawmill’. However, it was oddly different, and I could never put my finger exactly on why.
Perhaps it was more outdated or not as nice as the private athletic club I was accustomed to. Regardless, Larkins Hall had the same open shower environment as the one I was familiar with, and it connected directly into the sauna, which was often the conversation hub for students and faculty alike.
Often, I’d chat with fellow classmates and faculty, who had no idea I was just 16 years-old. After all, Larkins Hall was largely restricted to usage by students and staff; requiring a BuckID to get in the doors.
One afternoon, I remember being in the sauna with another student who had a huge tiger tattoo on his chest. Another guy in the sauna, a well-built black man with a bald head, commented on the tattoo and the two got to talking. Shortly after, I joined in on the conversation and carried on a pleasant dialogue with the two.
The black man introduced himself as ‘Joey’ and mentioned he was the coach for the girls club cheerleading team.
A few minutes later, the student with the tiger tattoo walked out of the sauna, leaving me and Joey. The conversation didn’t change much, but I noticed that his eyes kept glancing down between my legs, as he sat directly across from me in the sauna.
That’s when I noticed his hands worked his way between his legs, and he started touching himself. Not quite masturbating, but a lot more than a scratch/adjustment that you might expect.
Quickly, I excused myself from the sauna and went to rinse off. Moments later, he also began to rinse himself off – hands behind his head and facing me with a penis that was nearly erect.
I cut the shower short and retreated to my locker. Moments later, I saw a naked Joey walk right past my locker while making eye contact with me.
I hurried to get ready and went to the bathroom mirror to fix my hair before returning to my locker.
That’s when I saw it; the note.
Tucked between my locker was a handwritten note from Joey; sharing how ‘cool of a guy’ he thought I was, along with an invitation to ‘hang out’ and receive sexual ‘favors’ from him.
I was mortified. I had never experienced anything like this in my life, and my perception of the ‘safe’ university campus was forever shattered.
I was 16.
I never went back to the sauna or shower again. Ever. I also didn’t tell anybody or share this story, until now.
While Joey never touched me, he shattered a childish innocence that I had carried up until that point of my life. He shattered my notion that locker rooms were the safe and fun ‘mens club’ that I grew up with at Sawmill.
Up until that point of my life, I had never been approached by another man. To this day, I’ve never received as explicit of a message/note from any other man that has come onto me.
I don’t have much left to say, other than I’m glad that I finally got this out.
Oh, and Joey is dead.
https://osupublicationarchives.osu.edu/?a=d&d=LTN20120409-01.2.2&e=——-en-20–1–txt-txIN——-
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