Tell me about your High School hazing rituals

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
21

Every year seniors would wake up the freshmen drummers at 2am, drag them from their homes and “fish” (throw) them into nearby lake (which was actually a storage area for shit in the different states of matter), force you to chug a full pickle jar with juice, and make you proclaim to everyone else on the highway your history of sexual misconduct and deviancy with everything up to and including the rival school’s mascot IN lyrical form WHILEST singing it. Then they’d go to Denny’s afterward. I should’ve been in band.
I was disappointed at not being fished my freshman year; it was a bummer missing out on something I consider a God-given right. If it counts, the Cross Country guys -and me, being a member of said group of individuals- went to this stream out in the woods behind the school, made a log bridge (it was raining in fact, so the water was high), and started to play gladiator. Because we’re Cross Country guys and like to go the distance, the sport was played under classic rules. Butt naked, greased down, muddied up and very manly.

That’s when the upperclassmen decided to initiated freshmen into the Brotherhood. I agreed, very loudly. I wasn’t a freshman, no, that’s some other guy, you’ve got the wrong guy, damn freshman, I hate them so much, I’m a sophomore, actually ;). That was my mantra freshman year. I was betrayed by my fellow freshmen and ran like hell. Now, I only recently joined the team -3-4 months after school started- after transferring out of PE -yep- and then 3 months of basically sitting on my ass and these guys were older than me and they were in Cross Country, and Cross Country trains all year. 1200 yards later I trip and I’m grabbed. They lead me towards the raging river, and I squirm to get out of this; eventually I manage a way and I take off again into this cluster of trees and get they catch me again. Now I’m being dragged by my legs and arms, screaming, “Get your hands off me, you damn, dirty apes!” 'Twas cool then.

They put me on the log against Bernard, a tall, skinny guy who was also a freshman. Here I am, on top of a log, freezing rapids below and beside me, savages in front and behind me, and I’m forced to fight Bernard to the death just like Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock on that episode of Star Trek I never saw but am aware of. Bernard promises to me he won’t push me off; cuz, we’re on the same side, right. We’re buddies. I give him my trust. Then he bitch slaps me with it right across my face and I go down into a cold, cold current five feet deep.

Luckily, my head resurfaced ten yards downstream but I didn’t do anything about it. I could’ve maybe forced my way to a bank or something, but I didn’t wanna. I wanted to see where this thing goes. So here I am butt naked in a frigid -but quickly moving- flow of flushed dreg; I give them all an honorable salute, and I’m off. Right over hairrazing adventure. Right past excitement and discovery. Right over jagged rocks.

Right over a small waterfall. Right underneath a small bridge on main street, the busiest street in town. Right into…
that shit lake I told you about.

22

Thank you. My thoughts exactly.

23

Ah, yes. Hazing. One of the more barbaric “rites of passage” in school. I didn’t tolerate it. Two seniors tried to haze me on my first day in 8th grade (our high school was 8-12)–not silliness, their version involved beating the crap out of kids–and were graciously permitted to crawl away after I introduced them to the equalizing power of a mop handle.

Some upperclassmen attempted to haze the inductees to the National Honor Society the year I joined. Silly hazing, that time–lipstick smears, nasty perfume, and (clean) toilet paper wraps. I just looked down at the poor sap that got stuck trying to haze me for a minute, and he threw away his hazing stuff and walked away.

24

The Seniors would get 2 or 3 vans, load them with minor niners (grade 9’s) and then drive them out to the beach where they would be forced to walk into the water, until covered from head to toe and then roll in the sand.

–OR–

Brought by one of the big bus routes, ducktaped to a tree, and covered with every condiment thought possible. Including expired mayo.

25

dorkusmalorkusmafia - That’s my roommate’s old high school. She’s pretty shocked.

The Powder Puff game at my high school had the same junior/senior rivalry, but only about five people cared anyway, so it was moot.

26

My high school’s ultimate frisbee club had one of the more harmless, humorous hazing traditions. Before the season would start up, they’d throw a big party that everyone would attend. Alchohol was provided, but not mandatory.

So each freshman had to strip down to their underwear (gotta love co-ed teams) and would one at a time be lifted up, face down, by the rest of the team. Their bottoms would be pulled down, and a frisbee snugly inserted into their butt - they had now become a landshark!!

They’d run them around the room for a bit, and then give them their “fin” to take home. Wasn’t mandatory, but most kids did it because it was frickin hilarous.

27

Enh. Water balloons.

That was pretty much it. I got it twice - once as a band frosh, being “initiated” by the section leaders , and once as a junior at a magnet high school that was 11th and 12th grade only. As I don’t particularly mind being hit with water balloons outdoors on a 95-degree August day, it was merely annoying.