Student testimony about the John Dewey Academy

The John Dewey Academy is located in Great Barrington, Massachusetts, housed in Searles Castle. In the media it is mostly known for a student-teacher relationship 10 years ago. All rights to this testimony goes to the original author who has decided to remain unnamed.

I went to JDA and it was the worst experience in my entire life. I ran away half a year ago. I was virtually homeless for four months because my parents were advised by the JDA staff not to let me come home.

The therapy session quoted in this article was mild compared to JDA standards. Therapy was usually much, much worse. It wasn't uncommon to be called "a fucking worthless piece of shit" "a manipulative, dishonest bastard" etc. It was verbal abuse.

After I left I received a letter from Bratter telling me, among other things, that I was friendless, that I'd never had any real friends in my entire life and I never would learn how to make friends. He wrote that the only way I would survive outside of John Dewey was if I resorted to prostitution and the only way I could become a "worthwhile" person was if I came back and completed the program. He wrote that he feared all I would ever become, at best, was "the assistant to the assistant to the assistant manager at a fast food restaurant."

When I first came to the program I was a senior. I'd already applied to several highly selective colleges. Tom Bratter asked me where I wanted to go and I told him my first choice and he told me if I stayed, he would get me in because another student who was graduating that year had applied early and been deferred, but with his insider info and leverage he was confident he could threaten the school into accepting the student. While I was at JDA this particular student was accepted into the school and is now attending it thanks to Bratter.

In his letter he also mentioned acceptance to the school, that if I came back I still had a chance of going there but if I left I'd never get in. I refused to go back, determined to never, ever return to a place where I'd felt so horribly worthless, which was quite a feat for someone who has been severely depressed for almost half her life.

I wasn't like most of the kids sent to JDA. I had never done any drugs, even pot, in my life, I never drank, I'd never engaged in promiscuous behavior, I'd been a straight-A student. I'd never cheated, stolen, or hurt other people. I was just severely depressed, and had attempted suicide several times even after years of therapy. My parents were fed up and didn't want to deal with me anymore, and John Dewey provided a great solution.

It was the worst thing they could have done.

The first time I tried to leave, I announced that I was because of their "open-door" policy. Bratter told me I was welcome to leave, but a student told me he'd call the cops the minute I set foot outside the door.

One day a while after that incident, I just walked out the door and across the street to the general store that sold bus tickets while most students were in classes. I hid in the bushes of the station until the bus arrive and boarded. I had all of $8.34 when I arrived in New York City, where I'd lived, and no phone numbers or means of contacting anyone because when I'd arrived at John Dewey they had taken all of that personal information away.

At John Dewey I suffered verbal abuse and isolation. I had to scrub the toilets my second week there because I'd asked a "Younger Member" a question without a Middle or Older Member listening. I worked through Closed House, which was a school-wide "consequence" where, among other things, we weren't allowed to eat cooked food, or sit down at all during the day, except for designated therapy time. The only place we were allowed to sit during the day was the floor, and only if it was hardwood or marble, no carpet. If we leaned back on our hands we were punished. We were never allowed more than six hours of sleep. All our "privileges" were taken away. We weren't allowed to go outside at all. We couldn't groom ourselves. During the day we had to "Super-GI" the entire castle, which included scrubbing the group in between the tiles on our hands and knees with q-tips. We could have no cooked food, prepared meals, or sweet foods. We could only drink water.

Closed House lasted almost an entire month.

I still have nightmares of John Dewey and it's affected me more than my parents care to understand. They still think they were right in sending me there, but I can't disagree more.


These places are not the answer.



Sources:

• The original testimony (Fornits Home for Wayward Web Fora )
• Angel Teachers: Educators Who Care about Troubled Teens (by William L. Fibkins, R&L Education,)
• Factsheet about the school (Fornits Wiki)