The Straight Edge -- An X On The Hand Marks A Young Person As Straight Edge, Dedicated To Clean Living - No Drink, Drugs, Tobacco Or Meat - And Hard Rock
Darkness fell on Golden Gardens Park in North Seattle and families began leaving, some glancing back at the youths - wearing their universal couture of sagging jeans and hooded sweatshirts - emerging from the shadows.
From a nearby clubhouse, the energetic, growling synthesis of punk rock and heavy-metal music roared through the park. The families packed faster. A lone Seattle police officer lamented the absence of earplugs.
"Get ready: It's going to be another Straight Edge night," said a smiling Wendy Colton, a Seattle Parks Department employee and concert organizer.
For those in the heavy-metal and punk-rock scenes, a Straight Edge party means a night of "clean" fun with the only mind-altering influences coming from the cut-to-the-bone percussion and bass.
That's because Straight Edgers don't use drugs. They don't drink alcohol. They don't smoke. And they don't eat meat.
Some adhere to an even stricter form of vegetarianism in which all animal products, including cheese, eggs and milk, are shunned. Fur and leather are avoided.
A smaller sect practices celibacy.
"Its a real pure kind of lifestyle," said Kate Becker, who often hires Straight Edge bands to play at the Old Firehouse in Redmond.
Straight Edgers say their life choices stem from a desire to be true to themselves and not from any religious beliefs.
And while loosely considered an organization, Straight Edgers have no meeting places or even planned meetings. Some are musicians; nearly all are devoted to the hard-core music scene. At concerts, Straight Edge youths can usually spot one another by the black X that most wear on the backs of their hands - in much the same fashion that marijuana smokers wear pot-leaf symbols.
"We're like a large family even though outsiders may call us a gang," said Melissa Bloss, a 17-year-old incoming senior at Inglemoor High School in Bothell.
How large is the family? It's impossible to say how many young people consider themselves part of an unstructured, international movement like this. In the Seattle area, the concerts - the main way Straight Edgers gather together - tend to attract 150 to 200 people.
Bloss and her boyfriend, Brian Bean, spend most of their free time listening to heavy-metal music by Straight Edge bands and eating eggless noodles and tofu, or candy without gelatin.
In the itinerant world of young adults, this movement stands out on one important point: Kids don't join Straight Edge, they become Straight Edge, one youth explained.
In some ways, this puritan lifestyle is an apropos answer to the excesses of the 1980s and '90s that for many Straight Edgers created parents addicted to drugs, alcohol and careers.
"Big" Jon Orton, a heavyset, ponytailed 19-year-old known for throwing parties that attract Straight Edge bands from as far away as Sweden to the basement of his Fall City home, is a perfect example.
"I've drank and done drugs long enough to know that I don't want to live my life that way, not surrendering my body to some substance," he said.
Orton and his girlfriend, Tara Bookter, plan to raise their 1-year-old daughter, Crysta Rain, Straight Edge.
"I never want to wake up in the bushes and not know how I got there or why my dog won't come when I call," Orton said.
The Straight Edge movement grew out of the 1980s East Coast punk-rock scene. In New York City, teenagers lined up by the hundreds to get into dance clubs, and their hands were stamped with a black X so bartenders would know they were minors - unable to buy cigarettes or alcohol.
As the young punk rockers turned 18, many continued to avoid alcohol and tobacco.
"They still wore the X's on their hands because they wanted to show they were different, not like greasy, crusty punk rockers," Orton explained.
But punk-rock and heavy-metal music, with its angry lyrics hurled into the audience like verbal stilettos, is what draws Straight Edgers.
"The lyrics spoke to things I was going through in my life. I wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for hard-core bands and being Straight Edge. It's that personal," Orton said.
Melika, who asked that her last name not be used, stands outside the park's brick clubhouse Saturday waiting for the third band of the evening, Nineironspitfire, to begin playing.
"I myself had been into crystal (methamphetamine), pot and beer since the fourth grade," she said, her stare never leaving the ground.
"My father sold drugs and my mother drank constantly."
It was at a concert by Undertow, a hard-core band, that the Redmond teen noticed the wave of kids shouting the words to every song as though their lives depended on it. She was told they were Straight Edge kids and were often ridiculed by other youths.
"I remember thinking, `Well, at least their lives have meaning.' " Melika said she immediately quit doing drugs and smoking cigarettes. Straight Edge has been a crutch for her, she said, shoring up her fragile self-confidence and creating an extended family.
"I just regret the fact that it took so long to get here," Melika said.
While happy that people like Melika improved their lives through Straight Edge, Orton is worried that the movement has become fashionable and that many become involved out of a sole desire to be drug-free.
"It's more than just that: It's about having a positive outlook on your life and your future. It's not like stupid heavy metal or cheesy punk rockers saying `Live fast and die young,' " he said.
It is late at Golden Gardens Park and the bands, which also included Breach, Shut Down and Batting Cage, are packing up. Three girls stand a distance away sharing a cigarette.
"No, we're not Straight Edged," said Ami Frost, 18, of Seattle, in response to a question. "We're not hard-core enough and I love smoking too much."
While she and her friend Katie Robinette, 18, of Tacoma, attend nearly all the Straight Edge concerts, they have been reluctant to take on the lifestyle.
"It's a lifetime commitment," Robinette said. "It's nothing to play around with."