True 'till death

The word "Bane" glares from the back of Senior Katie Postlewait's low-slung school bag with its tongue sticking out. Her friend, Junior Jamund Ferguson, grins as he unzips his jacket to reveal a black shirt, screaming Bane.

There is something up with this loud four-lettered word, and these two UW students are more than happy to explain.

"Bane is our most-favorite band," says Jamund, drumming his fingers on a nearby table. And Katie and Jamund share something more with their Bane-band idols than a love for cranking hardcore music.

Everyone is Straight Edge.

Straight Edge was formed in the early 1980s along with the rise of crimped hair, leg-warmers and, most importantly, the punk-rock music scene.

It was the result of a rebellious hardcore band called Minor Threat, singing a little song entitled "Straight Edge" that promote/d three simple commandments:

No drinks, no drugs, no sex.

These rules optimize the basic Straight Edge ideology, which Katie says is a commitment to adhere to a substance-free lifestyle. Although the song said "no sex," most Straight Edge followers will have sex in committed relationships, but do not have casual sex.

"Straight Edge means keeping yourself free from the things that harm you," Katie asserted. The UW psychology and sociology senior wears her decision to go against the grain as proudly as she wears her bright-red sneakers.

Katie and her close girlfriends began living as Straight Edge in 1995, inspired by rough-and-tough band members who rocked as musicians, and advertised a new type of lifestyle.

Katie liked the idea of being part of this innocent rebellion.

"We said, 'Oh, we'll do the opposite everyone in society does,'" Katie recalled.

Passionately involved in the Straight Edge scene, Katie and friends participated in "X-ing up" at shows to publicly advertise their anti-substance vows.

X-ing up means drawing huge black Xs on your hands. This began when bouncers drew X's to identify the underage kids and keep them from being served alcohol.

It became commonplace practice for the Straight Edge crowd to X-up their hands in public proclamation: they would not partake, no matter how old they were.

Jamund says that Xs are fewer and farther between today, although he never fails to pull out the black, permanent markers for big shows.

It was, in fact, the shows that attracted Jamund to the Straight Edge life. He has been involved in the hardcore-music scene for five years; he quickly began to appreciate the Straight Edge philosophies. For him, the lifestyle fits.

"As a college student, I want to do well. It's important for me to think clearly. I care, I care about my life," Jamund said.

Many of his friends have developed serious addictions from drugs and alcohol, and this made him even surer about his choice to be substance-free.

"We just see ourselves as safer," Jamund shrugged.

Both Katie and Jamund enjoy the feeling that comes from what they say is a safe and inviting atmosphere. 



"There is a good sense of community; it's really fun and it's good for you," smiles Jamund. "I'm happy to be a part of this."



The shows occur nearly every weekend, and usually cost around $5. The best part, Jamund pointed out, is hanging out with friends before and after concerts. With most shows welcoming the same 100 kids who all recognize each other, newcomers are easily intimidated when they step into the local Straight Edge world, said Katie.

But that should not stop mosh-pit lovers and bad-boy fans from checking it out.

"Really, we are a family," Katie asserted, "but all a new person has to do is come and start talking. We are really nice!"

The kinship vibe mixed with the feel of a clean, secret society creates a harmony that is just about as sweet as any rock concert. It all boils down to the trust in the end.

"You sort of just trust people," Katie says of her Straight Edge comrades.

A traveling Straight Edge band, for instance, is never turned out in the cold if it doesn't have a place to stay. Straight Edge strangers equal Straight Edge friends.

Even if you go across the country for a concert, X still seems to mark the spot.

"You just look for someone who has X's on their hands," Jamund said. Walking up to a fellow Straight Edger at a show means instant bonding and acceptance.

But trust in each other is not only imperative in maintaining a safe Straight Edge environment, it is a fundamental in keeping an individual on track.

Remaining accountable to refrain from drugs, alcohol, smoking and promiscuous sex is crucial in the retention of a Straight Edge label.

"The rules are definitely rules," said Katie. "If I had one drink right now, I wouldn't be able to call myself Straight Edge. It's a final thing."

The basic rules concerning substance abuse, in fact, are so concrete that Katie said they allow "no screw-ups." Those who choose to break from the Straight Edge circle of trust are forever viewed as "sellouts."

This stringent intolerance for mistakes raises questions of Straight Edge being too militant.

To this, Katie insisted that Straight Edge does not deserve to sound rigid.

"For the most part, there is a live-and-let-live attitude," she retains. "It's about personal choice ... we just respect what's good for you."

In addition to this, both Katie and Jamund agreed that Straight Edge has become more "mellow" after undergoing many changes in the past three years. There is also a trend to blend with the hardcore-music scene to be more inclusive of the non-Straight Edge community.

"Today, it's more about the music," Katie said.

However, Katie and Jamund want no mistaking on how serious they are about the Straight Edge cause.

Jamund reports that many people use the Straight Edge scene to get themselves through the tumultuous ,teen years of pressure, and then exit once they "grow up."

It is not uncommon for the savviest, X-ed up, drink-denying individual to leave the lifestyle to wine and dine as a married adult. But since the purpose of Straight Edge is to keep young people from abusing the use of harmful things, sometimes even the most steadfast fade away when the pressures of being young leave too.

"I have a neighbor who is 32, and he plans to be Straight Edge forever," said Jamund. "Of course, he's like, 'Unless I'm 80 and for the pain of old age, I have to take some meds.' "

Those who keep the hardcore creed as a life-long promise are few and far between.

"There's an old straight edge saying 'True till death,'" Jamund said. "I plan on being one. And Katie, too."

As Katie and Jamund walked away, the striking letters of "Bane" keep the two friends from fading in with the rest of the campus crowd.