Wednesday, November 14, 2018 // The Statement
6B
is where you’re at.” My graph
put me at -100 for nervousness,
-88 for depression and -79 for
instability.
I nod.
“I see.”
“So the results are ... that it
shows that you’re unstable…”
I nod again, and she lowers her
voice.
“You’re … depressed.”
Another nod.
“You’re
a
really
nervous
person.”
“Hm.”
“Sometimes
you’re
really
active, sometimes you’re not
active at all.”
“Mhm.”
“And
then
right
here
is
aggressiveness. So you’re really
putting yourself out there. Then
… over here is … you’re kind of
irresponsible.”
“OK.”
“But,
you’re
a
pretty
appreciative person.”
She looks up from the graph
and smiles at me.
“That’s cool.”
Maya lists the rest of my
character flaws, and suggests
that I am likely dealing with some
past trauma from my childhood,
probably something related to
abandonment by parental figure.
When she’s done, she asks me
how all of this makes me feel.
“Well, it checks out,” I tell her.
Maya offers me some literature
on upcoming courses, as well as
an evaluation packet. The front
reads, “This is your personalized
route to happiness and success.
Start today!”
She points to a pamphlet
on a course titled “Personal
Efficiency.”
“This personal efficacy (sic)
course really helped me when
I started out,” she says. “When
I came in, I was like -100 on
everything. Now I’m in the
normal range.” When I later
researched the course online,
I saw it had a required seminar
“donation” of $50.
Maya attended culinary school
in California and was hoping to
become a baker when she found
the church. Struggling in a bad
relationship, she took the Oxford
Capacity Analysis™ Exam at a
Scientology center in August,
and subsequently signed up for
some classes. In September, as
the relationship worsened, she
decided to leave California and
work full time for the church. I
asked if she still baked. She said
yes, sometimes.
“The church really helped
me work through things from
my past,” she said. “I’m more
confident now, my chart is
better.”
When I hear the trajectory
that led Maya to the church, I
feel guilty, as if my half-hearted
attempt at joining Scientology
was a direct slight towards her,
and one she didn’t deserve.
But later, when Dom, Annie
and I compared our graphs, we
noticed they that each appeared
disturbingly similar. We are
all, according to the Church of
Scientology, very nervous, very
depressed, very unstable and
very aggressive.
In my mind, the scam was
too obvious. What cult would
recruit you by saying you’re
fine as you are? Certainly not
one as successful as the Church
of Scientology. Though their
numbers have greatly diminished
since their peak in the late 20th
century, estimates hold that
anywhere between 20,000 and
40,000 people worldwide are
committed to Scientology today.
Their reach is undeniable, and
not just among well-publicized,
powerful celebrities like Tom
Cruise
and
John
Travolta.
Average people dissatisfied with
their lives continue to seek solace
in the church.
Despite the documentaries,
the exposés and the criminal
charges, the church continues
to successfully recruit members
because there is no shortage of
vulnerable people who crave the
acknowledgement of personhood
this sort of organization claims
to offer. Ultimately, the escape
that Scientology promises with
just a few paid courses and some
overpriced books is too enticiting
to deny when reality offers only
duller truths.
For those who don’t have a
support system in place when
they’re distraught and need to be
heard, I can imagine that it’s not
strange and amusing for a kind
woman with dark curly hair to
hold their hands softly on a desk,
look them in the eyes and affirm
quietly, “You’re … depressed.”
It’s a revelation.
Eddie, the man who spoke
with Dom about his character
insufficiencies, takes us to the
elevator. As we wait for it to
arrive, Eddie tells us that he went
to Vermont for a year to play
soccer on a full ride, but tore his
ACL, so he had to quit the team
and lost his scholarship. He went
home for a year, and then did
community college for another
before transferring to New York
University. He joined the church
in 2011.
He mentions multiple times
that his wife is
upstairs,
and
that his kid is
downstairs in the
children’s
room.
In the lobby, we
see a boy no older
than 12 running
around
in
a
Pokemon T-shirt.
This is Tony’s son,
Jason. Tony tells
Jason to go back
downstairs.
Eddie
brings
us back through
the lobby offshoot
with the watching
stations, talking quickly as we
walk behind him. He grabs a
plastic-wrapped book from one
of the shelves and hands it to
Dom.
“This one book
more than anything
else really helped
me. This is the one
that
you
should
definitely get. Don’t
walk out of here
without that book.
It’s only $20, it’s not
like a big thing. I
don’t know, a lot of
people try to push
it, but I don’t like to
push it too hard. A
lot of people need to
take it at their own
pace.
I’m
reading
— you know what
I’m
reading
right
now? — I’m reading
‘Battlefield
Earth.’
It’s like a fiction
book,
by
L.
Ron
Hubbard.
There’s
a lot of technology
in it. It’s about like
aliens,
this
and
that … Here, and
this book too has
all the stuff, it’s got
impact, self reliance,
communication,
everything,
you
know
it
can
like,
bring
your
responsibility
up,
and I told you, if
you want to do the
seminar,
just,
I’ll
give you my cell
phone number, let
me know when you
come back, it’s only
$30 more. I’m not gonna charge
you $50, you know, that’s fucked
up. A lot of people are pushy
pushy but I’m not like that. We
do have other small pamphlets,
if you think you’d be into that,
for like $5 dollars. It’s up to you
guys, it’s about what you guys
want to get out of it. DVDs too.
Here, take one. Anything? No?
Have you guys seen the vault?”
From Page 5B
When I hear the trajectory
that led Maya to the church, I
feel guilty, as if my half-hearted
attempt at joining Scientology was
a direct slight towards her, and one
she didn’t deserve.
ILLUSTRATION BY CHRISTINE JEGARL