COLUMN: Satan Club

Once upon a 1980s, a short-lived teen dance club opened up in my hometown of Galesburg.

One fateful weekend, the club got some unexpected visitors. A group of punk and goth kids from Peoria showed up. The whole place froze as this pack of wild adventurers from Planet Cool walked in. For most of us, it was our first proper glimpse at actual counter-culture.  

The ripples were swift. Within days, several local kids had taken on the same look. Our mild-mannered high school was suddenly filled with mohawk haircuts, safety pins, and ratty jackets with hand-drawn anarchy symbols on the back. Parents were aghast. 

I was never a member of that clique. I was WAY too nerdy and my parents would've never let me dress the part. But I WAS somewhat accepted by those kids. You see, I was a DJ at that short-lived teen dance club. I didn't LOOK punk or goth, but I loved the music and spun it as often as I could. One of my proudest accomplishments was slipping a Sex Pistols song into my high school's homecoming playlist.

But one day, a teacher came up to me after class and asked the most ridiculous question ever: "Say, you and your, umm, interesting friends don't ever do... SATANIC things, do you?"

Say what? Other than the time I watched "The Omen" without my parents knowing, I didn't even know what Satanic things WERE. I still don't, honestly. But it didn't take long for rumours to fly that the local goth kids were all gathering late at night to sacrifice bunnies, vandalize churches, and commit unspeakable acts. From what I knew of those kids, they mostly gathered late at night to get unlimited refills on coffee at Village Inn.

But the general consensus around town was if you looked weird, you must be a devil worshipper. I will never forget going to a friend's house afterschool and finding a church pamphlet titled, "What To Do If Your Child Is A Punker Rocker."

This was the 1980s, and Satanic Panic was in full effect. Parents were terrified you could spin a record backwards and be brainwashed into Satanism, whatever that was. In West Memphis, three kids were wrongly convicted of murder on the basis they wore black and listened to goth music. It was a weird time to be alive.

Now here we are, some 35 years later, and the devil is once again scaring people. Last week, flyers were posted inviting the children of Jane Addams Elementary in Moline to an "After School Satan Club." As you can imagine, this didn't go over too well.

In reality, it was a pretty effective stunt. The organizers of this club seem less concerned about turning your children toward Beelzebub and more concerned about making a point that religion and schools probably shouldn't mix. Board of Education policy in Moline allows for community rental and usage of their facilities after-hours, and several religious groups take advantage of this. But if you're going to allow one religious group to rent your place out, you need to allow ALL religious groups to do it, even ones you might not subscribe to.

The organizers of the club say they're not attempting to convert children to any religious ideology. Instead, After School Satan Club promotes "benevolence and empathy, critical thinking, creative expression, and personal sovereignty." It's all just shock and awe on a ridiculous flyer that's meant to raise as many red flags as possible. Not to both figuratively AND literally play Devil's Advocate, but their plan sure worked. Some people were outraged, others were supportive, and the first club meeting went down the other day complete with protesters, counter-protesters, and an outraged Tucker Carlson on Fox News. 

I'm no devil worshipper. But I also think kids of ALL religions and backgrounds deserve equal footing and the chance to go to school without being made to feel different. I wouldn't send my kid to Satan Club, but I respect its right to exist, and I respect the Board of Education for playing fair. If you're worried about all this, don't be. I don't think this particular stunt will lead to a new Satanic panic. Let's face it, we've lived the past two years in a moderate state of perpetual panic as is. Most of us are fresh out of panic at this point.

Still, you know you're a product of the 1980s when you see a headline like "IS SATAN INVADING OUR SCHOOLS?" and all you feel is a sense of nostalgia for the good ole days when our biggest worry was what Led Zeppelin was saying in reverse. I've got some news for the devil: we don't need your backwards messages in songs. It's 2022. Today's chart-toppers are bad enough when you play them FORWARD, thanks much.