"Everything You Have Learned in School is Wrong"
by Baron Bodissey
Our Norwegian correspondent The Observer has translated an article from Rights.no about the ghastly predicament in which young Norwegians find themselves within heavily culturally enriched districts of Oslo.
Well-off natives can afford to move to safe, pleasant white enclaves, where they may send their children to school among white native speakers of Norwegian. Less affluent citizens are not so fortunate, however, and are forced to endure the humiliation and degradation of the Multicultural behavioral sink in which their political masters have consigned them to live.
The translator includes this introductory note:
The translated article:
He doesn't lower his head. He refuses to take any crap. He answers back. He's loudmouthed. He is who he is. It does not matter. But that's not why they target him. It is an autumn evening in seventh grade. He is playing tennis. When he leaves the court to collect some tennis balls they appear. They are seven or eight Somalis. The beat the crap out of him, he has to get new teeth put in.
Marius doesn't slow down. He calls a Roma girl a gypsy, something that isn't appreciated. When her brothers and cousins come for him, he hides in the principal's office. It has begun.
He lowers his gaze, he wants to be like them, talk like them, he alters his language, limits his vocabulary, makes deliberate spelling mistakes — 'an school', kebab-Norwegian, buys a soft gun, wants to be like the older, tougher, cool Pakistani guys that have cars and money and no job, why not become a Muslim, become a brother?
He wants to be like them, but he doesn't become like them, something inside him is resisting.
Fragments: the bad grades in the Norwegian classes, the bad friends, Islam, he notices how they view women, as an object, how they react when he tries to discuss Islam with them, how they talk about respect, but don't show any respect, how they refer to Norwegians as f***ing Norwegians, whitey, potato; something inside him resists.
He withdraws. They notice that he withdraws. Then it starts.
We learn about the suffering of Marius:
He heads off to school an hour before it starts in the morning. He heads home before it finishes in the afternoon. More episodes, more threats. Fear is not an isolated event, but rather a continuous stream.
In tenth grade he goes to see the doctor and lies about having social anxiety. He is given a medical certificate so he can spend as little time as possible in school. He's scared. Says that they always come in packs. Says that they always stare when he sees them on the subway when there are twenty of them, and when he gets a girlfriend they cry out to him:
"'Hey Marius have you got yourself a girlfriend,' and it's not the words that are threatening, but the way they are being uttered, do you understand, how they look at me and my girlfriend who starts to cry, do you understand?"
NRK's "concept" of "our valley"
We are being told that Marius' fears have subsided, although they can still return:
It has been three years since he graduated from high school. He can still feel a twinge of fear whenever he meets the gangs on the subway, but he doesn't give a ****, he has made four movies, he says what he thinks, he is who he is, the valley is what it is, he writes op-eds about life in Groruddalen and gets them published in VG and Dagsavisen, he is only nineteen but he has already had a heart attack and he has been interviewed twice by the producers of the Norwegian TV series 'Dalen Vår' ['Our Valley'], Elisabeth Brun (see separate article) to find out if his story fitted in with the story about Groruddalen.
It did not.
"Your views do not fit in with our concept," she said. That TV series is state-funded propaganda. A documentary where the angle has been determined in advance is no documentary, but a half-mockumentary where they have full control of what is being said. If you are going to tell a story about what a great place Groruddalen is, then you can't talk to young ethnic Norwegian boys, because most of them will tell you that it is a horrible place.
Worried about murders
Andreas is also suffering, despite attempts at hiding it as much as possible:
He has withdrawn into himself, although he still has a Muslim friend from a very religious family. Let's call him Omar. He tries to persuade Andreas to become Muslim. Omar tells him about the judgment and the hell that awaits all those who refuse to submit to Islam in time. Omar tells him that he needs to stop enjoying life, but rather prepare himself for the next life. Forsake. But Andreas says that he is wary of Islam; actually it's more than that: he doesn't like Islam, not the strictness, vengefulness, its view of women, all the talk about the chastity of women, hijab, not because they want to but because they have to.
They discuss. The discussions descend into verbal altercations.
"He told me that he was going to kill me. I threatened him back."
Andreas allies himself with ethnic Norwegians in the motorcycle community for protection, a 1% club.
"Had it not been for them he would have killed me."
Andreas doesn't deny that he's still scared. That he lift weights to gain strength. He also says that he's contemplating carrying a knife, but that he fears the police knife controls. He says that he's made deals with his friends, that they will all stand up for each other. Friends who also lift weights and that are into martial arts.
"Muslims don't fight you on a one-to-one basis. If you meet them alone they are cowards. If I run into Omar alone, he will just walk past me. If I am alone and meet him in a crowd, the best outcome I can hope for is a beating."
Marius has lifted his gaze. Now he can start to analyze it all.
"There is a hierarchy, where ethnic Norwegian boys are on the bottom rung on the ladder. They will be targeted unless they accede to their rules, if they don't they become Norwegian immigrants. If a Norwegian boy gets into trouble, odds are that he has a small family and a tiny social network. Unlike a Pakistani or Somali boy, he doesn't have a clan of brothers and cousins and uncles who come rushing to his aid in the event of a conflict. Most of the time the only thing he has is a single parent."
Norwegian is weakness, Norwegian culture is on the way out
Andreas believes that the Norwegian culture is being squeezed out.
"Nobody wants to be a Norwegian here. Norwegian is synonymous with weakness. This is a feeling that is also being conveyed by the teachers.
"They are afraid. They don't dare to speak out. You should have a look at the number of principals that have come and gone at Vestliveien school in recent years, and ask them why they left. They don't have control, but they do everything to accommodate the Muslim students. In home economics classes everybody has to prepare halal meat. Immigrants do not have to attend 'NyNorsk' classes [literally New-Norwegian, which is a different dialect and a different way to write Norwegian — there are two forms of written Norwegian]. I have to attend these classes. The Muslim girls do not have to attend the physical activity classes; because of course they cannot undress in front of other girls. We have to adapt to their culture. They don't have to adapt to ours."
Andreas' views on girls:
"There is one thing that annoys the hell out of me. They can start chasing Norwegian girls, but we cannot go after theirs. It's something you learn early on. You just don't go after a Pakistani girl, but Norwegian girls are available to immigrant boys. Norwegian girls prefer them. I don't know why. I guess it must be that brown skin. That they are tough, that they have money despite not having jobs. They don't see that they fight in packs, that they are cowards. I asked my best female friend if we could get romantically involved, and she told me that I have the right personality, but the problem was that I'm Norwegian. She wants to become involved with a foreigner."
He believes that Oslo will eventually become Oslostan.
"It's not going to happen straightaway, but it that's the way its going. More and more Muslims arrive here from abroad, and many Norwegians convert. Personally I know of five converts. Here it's all about Islam; Islam is strong, so why fight it?"
The betrayal and the silence
Andreas says that he feels betrayed. And his conversation with the journalists fromFinansavisen is the first time that adults let him speak freely, the first time that he doesn't have to hold back and place restrictions on himself. He says that he wants to become an actor. He wants to make a movie. Maybe a movie about the real "our valley". He says that he wants to join the HV youth (the youth division of the National Guard). "He wants the uniform. He craves the authority that a uniform gives. No one messes with a soldier."
Finansavisen's reporters suggest that adolescence can be tough for everybody, and they wonder how much of it is actually about growing up in the valley and how much is trauma that many adolescents experience, such as differentness, loneliness and exclusion. They even ask them if they are paranoid — if there really is something to be afraid of. Maybe they have deliberately isolated themselves and gone into hiding and started worshipping imaginary horrors that have replaced reality?
The boys' response is laughter:
They laugh. They smile. The journalists have not understood.
"It is not imagination when they shout after me, when they threaten me, when they hit me," says Andreas.
"Are you afraid to walk around alone?"
"I'm not. Not any more," says Marius.
"There are many places that I don't go alone. Especially at night," says Andreas.
We follow Andreas to the subway station.
"Do you see?" he says, and guides our attention to two immigrants. "Do you see how they stare back?"
He's right. They do stare. We lower our gaze first.
Once again we hear the animal metaphors that permeates their language:
"They are like cats, says Andreas — cats never back down. They challenge you. I get so f***ing mad."
The subway train arrives. We get on. After a few stop Andreas gets off. We lean back in our seats and try to let the rattle of the train carriage rock us into a kind of sleep. But sleep doesn't come.
The subway ride from Stovner to Smestad takes approximately 35 minutes.
Epilogue: After having read the draft, Marius gave us a call.
"You can delete the statement that I can walk around safely."
"I got beat up on the way home from the pub yesterday."
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