A Smoker Reminisces, Part Two

Smoking didn't become a habit(read: addiction) for me until summer camp, age 16. It was one of those progressive arts camps for teenagers, where they make a point of treating you like a college student; plenty of freedom and free time. The counselors themselves were all college kids who seemed reluctant to rain on our pheromone parade -- they allowed us to enjoy our summer nights and loves unimpeded. This hands-off approach extended to tobacco use; groups of us would walk to the "wall" multiple times a day to smoke. We would talk about the Beats and listen to Dylan and Lou Reed. Cigarettes became romantic, became a part of the artistic and literary mythology we were sucking down. Non-smokers just didn't get Ginsberg and Kerouac the way we did. Those kids weren't part of the lifestyle.

That idea -- that smoking was a test of character, a litmus test -- was brought back from camp and integrated into my high school life. Just as there were cliques for theater kids and nerds and jocks, there was the smoking clique.

Like any clique we became a tight-knit group, providing support and friendship for our members. The social bonds formed by our shared habit created a community in which we felt comfortable. Finally, us cynics and loners weren't so alone -- and maybe not as cynical.

I guess what I'm getting at is that cigarettes, at more than one stage in my life, gave me a home.

A Smoker Reminisces, Part One

I started smoking at the age of thirteen, but not very seriously. At the time, I wanted to run with the fast crowd, which entailed smoking, drinking, marijuana, petty vandalism and lying about sexual exploits. When school was let out each day, a group of us would saunter off school property just far enough so that we could legally smoke cigarettes within eyesight of the crowded school buses and the teachers walking to their cars. It was more about posturing than anything else. Marlboro Reds were my smoke of choice, if only because they were considered the harshest and therefore the coolest. We would chain-smoke as much as possible before heading off to detention, spraying ourselves with cologne in the parking lot in a vain attempt to cover up the odor.

At that age and level of inexperience, cigarettes would still give us a buzz. We would feel light-headed and giddy -- an effect of deprivation of oxygen to the brain coupled with the illicit thrill of rebellion. We were novices, glorious and wonderful. Embarrassing as it is to admit, me and a couple other thrill-seekers once even tried smoking dip. We flattened one half of a soda can and poked holes in it to form a makeshift pipe and took turns inhaling the noxious fumes of burning Skoal. I felt high for twenty minutes before vomiting in the school courtyard.

For all the adolescent stupidity and social one-upmanship of middle school, I will remember it fondly as my first rebellion, my first independence. That old tobacco smoke, acrid and sweet, still hangs in the air.

Smoke!

The Stigma of Smoking

At some point in recent history, smoking was moralized; it became a character flaw to smoke. Rather than allow smokers to weigh the costs and benefits of smoking and make a rational decision, societal forces have instead chosen to make social pariahs out of smokers, attempting to shame them out of their habit. This is Sociology 101: to effect certain behaviors on a societal level, one must produce shame in those who practice said behaviors. One produces shame by creating the illusion that said behaviors reflect on the moral (and subsequently, social) value of an individual. Societies have used shame as a force for socialization from time immemorial -- mostly because it's highly effective(for a brief introduction, I recommend Norbert Elias' work).

You can witness the shaming of smokers everyday. The smoking bans in restaurants, bars and other public buildings work to segregate and subsequently ostracize smokers. Common phrases like, "Kissing a smoker is like licking an ashtray," attempt to make smokers feel unattractive and undesirable. And then, of course, there are tasteful ads like these:

Yup - if you smoke, you're a baby-killer.

To deny smokers their own humanity in this way is lazy, insulting and despicable.

I, for one, will not be bullied into quitting. Anyway, social stigmas become me.