Heather Harding at CEDU (From:Youthrights.org)

This story was originally written on a webpage created to provide statements for a GAO hearing in 2007. The address is cafety.youthrights.org and it waits for your statement if you believe that your stay at a boarding school included unfair treatment or even abuse. All rights and credits goes to the author Heather Harding, who posted the original story on cafety.youthrights.org

My name is Heather Harding and I give full permission to use my statement.

Cedu Survivor June 1989- Dec 1991

I attended CEDU school in Running Springs, California from June 26, 1989 until December 7, 1991. I was 14 years old when I arrived and graduated the program 3 days after my 17th birthday.

On the morning of June 26, 1989 I was abruptly awoken by a bounty hunter standing over my bed and telling me to get moving. He was recommended by the school and/or the educational consultant that handled my case. I arrived to the campus, was toured, and then taken to the administration building to say goodbye to my father and supposedly sign away my rights to tell anyone outside what happened inside. Legal action was threatened regularly if ANY information was divulged to the outside or people inside that had not gone through the experience yet. I was too young to know that this was illegal.

The Program:

The program consisted of seven 24 hour emotional growth based "propheets", one 3 day workshop, one 6 day workshop, three wilderness trips (a 3 day, 5 day and 14 day trip), 30-36 hours of physical labor (work crews) per week and 12 hours of "group" therapy (raps) per week.
The basic layout went as follows: (meals excluded for simplicity)

• Monday Wednesday, Friday: You would have 4 hours of work crews in the morning and a 4 hour rap in the afternoon.
• Tuesday, Thursday: You would have work crews for 4 hours in the morning and 4 hours in the afternoon.
• Saturday: Saturday work crews where the entire campus would be cleaned top to bottom for 4-6 hours
• Sunday: 2-4 hours of cleaning with free time in the afternoon

Work crews changed every 6 months. The first six months you would chop wood with a cross cut saw and sledge and wedge. The second six months you would work on the farm taking care of the animals. The third six months you would maintain and add to an upper and lower ropes course. The last year of the program you would do miscellaneous chores. This was supposed to be the major time for classwork, yet I only attended one class during that entire time which was about an hour long and we talked about PeeWee Herman getting caught in an adult theatre.

Every evening after dinner there was "free time" called floor time where people would share personal stories and "smoosh". If you had been in trouble you would also fulfill your punishment at this time called dinner dishes.

Dinner Dishes: You are assigned an area to clean by an upper school student after dinner (pot and pans, upper level, lower lever, etc.) Bans were enforced where you could not acknowledge any other person, could not smile, be touched, talk, sing and could only be speak if spoken to by an approved peer or staff. The detail usually lasted 1-2 hours with Deep meaningful conversations or personal beration for whatever you did to get into trouble. This was the lightest punishment anyone would receive, usually for leaving your snow boots in the closet overnight or something similar. It was also mandatory during harsher punishments like a Table or Full Time.

Table and Full Times: This was a harsher punishment for breaking an agreement on accident or deliberately. It consisted of your regular rap cycle Monday, Wednesday and Friday. During your regular work crew times you would be doing "work assignments" or "work details". These consisted of hard labor that usually had no real purpose. Many people would work at digging a hole that is 6 feet deep just to fill it back up. The point is to see how "You dig holes in your life" or "run yourself into the ground". During any other free time you were restricted to sit at a table in the dining room with a hard wooden bench and would have to work on writing assignments which were usually harsh and defamatory. You were on a ban from the entire school except approved upper school students and faculty. You were not allowed to be touched, smile, sing, laugh and could only speak when spoken to. You were escorted everywhere by the upper school student who was running your table. Tables could last several weeks. Full Times were longer tables that could last between 1 and 3 months. People on tables were an easy target in raps and usually suffered extreme defamation and verbal abuse at the hands of their peers and faculty. If you tried to run away from the school a Full Time was an absolute once the police or bounty hunter picked you up and brought you back. If you refused and continued to not participate the school would recommend a 21 day.

21 day: Many kids were taken from the school and put on a 21 day in an attempt to get them to cooperate. It is a harsh wilderness experience ran by an affiliated program like Ascent or Outward Bounds. I did not experience one so I will not make a personal comment, but if you did not succeed at the 21 day and come back the CEDU, Provo Canyon in Utah was usually suggested by the school to your parents. I knew many many kids that went on 21 days, one in particular that did 3 consecutive 21 days... (a 63 day)

Propheets: There were seven 24 hour propheets based off of chapters in Kahlil Gibrans book "The Prophet" They propheets get their name because we were "learning to put feet under the prophet" Supposedly learning "tools" that would later help us succeed in life.

Here is list of the propheets in order through the program

• The Truth
• The Childrens
• The Brothers
• The Dreams
• The I want to live
• The Values
• The Imagine

The basic outline of propheets were the same during the 24 hour period, but the intensity and harshness increased with each one. Basic outline: Your "peer group" enters a secluded building away from the rest of the school at around 5pm. All the windows are covered so you never know what time it is. The kids would sit in a semi-circle of hard chairs with one of more faculty at the front in plush arm chairs. Dirt lists are written and disclosure circles start. A few emotional growth based exercises and bio-energetic exercises are done with the attempt to weaken you. These exercises are usually harsh in nature and the faculty will take personal experiences from you and berate you with them. (example: If you were molested by an uncle... they would yell something around the lines "Yeah, you deserved it didnt' you..... You asked for it because you are a whore". Most were physical and emotionally humiliating. A certain song designed for each propheet would be played repeatedly for hours on end. Around 2 or 3am, a rap is started. You would only be allowed to wear a short sleeve shirt, sweatpants and socks. The room was kept at around 50 degrees all night and faculty would come up behind you and slap their hands really loud if you were to fall asleep and make you stand behind your chair. This rap would end around 6 or 7 am where you would have some meaningless uplifting exercise, eat a small breakfast and take a nap for 1 hour or so. The rest of the propheet (about 6 hours or so) was designed to "build you back up". The next day exercises were usually soft in nature. Unfortunately, the emotional trauma, physical exhaustion, and malnourishment would defeat any feel good moment. You would exit the propheet around 5pm the next day and re-introduce yourself to the school and share your newfound personal wisdom.

The Workshops were similar with harsher exercises and lasted 3 days or 6 days. These experiences were pinnacles in the program. You would get your next set of issues to deal with in each propheet and expand on prior propheets.

In my 3 day workshop they made me lay on the ground, bite on a towel while keeping my head on the ground and pull up as hard as I can while they played the rocky theme song several times. My meniscus disc in my jaw joint was displaced anteriorly and posteriorly. They would not let me see a doctor for several months until my parents demanded it. Scar tissue developed on the joint making it difficult to do the surgery and the doctor hit a main nerve and half of my face was paralyzed for almost 3 months. During this time the school only allowed me 2 eye drops per day.

The belief was that I really didn't have a physical injury. They told me to "take care of my feelings" and everything would be ok. My physical wellness was neglected for almost 5-6 months. I have had 2 other surgeries for this injury after leaving CEDU.

This is only the tip of the iceberg that was CEDU school. This is only an outline of a few key ingredients. Day to day you were berated and I personally lived in fear of doing anything because any faculty at any time could make it "out of agreement". An example: I used to yelled at for having curly hair (which I was born with!?!?!) One faculty decided that if my hair was curly I was "off"... if I was "off" I had done something out of agreement. I would be a sitting duck in raps for all the school to attack. Punishments were typically ludacris and irrational. I was put on a table just before I graduated only because I had not been on a table yet. The staff also liked to put you in lose lose situations that would end in work details or worse.

17 years have passed since I graduated from this program. I left with no high school education and started college at an 8th grade level. I did receive my high school diploma somehow from CEDU which boggles my mind. I was later told that the state had approved the program and that I got math units for chopping wood and english credits for floor time. This is ludacris! My parents paid an extremely expensive tuition for me to be physically and emotionally abused while doing free labor. And the worst part, to this day they don't know what I actually went through while I was there. I wasn't allowed to tell them while I was there and now, they just don't want to hear it. I am just coming to terms with what happened at CEDU.

Again, My name is Heather Harding and I give full permission to use my statement.

CEDU war a large organization and very much founded the term "Therapeutic Boarding School". The first CEDU school was opened around 1968 and all the school closed in 2005 due to some lawsuits.

References:
Datasheet about the boarding schools from the Fornits Home for Wayward Web Fora
The original statement on Youthrights

Unknown at the Monarch School (From:Youthrights.org)

This story was originally written on a webpage created to provide statements for a GAO hearing in 2007. The address is cafety.youthrights.org and it waits for your statement if you believe that your stay at a boarding school included unfair treatment or even abuse. All rights and credits goes to the author, who posted the original story on cafety.youthrights.org

Facility Attended: Monarch School Dates and Ages attended: August 2007-March 2009, Age 14-16 State Facility located: Montana Reasons for being sent to facility: Smoking marijuana every day, parents concern of me getting into harder drugs (did not happen), poor grades, and poor communication with parents. Residence prior to placement: Los Angeles, CA
Accredited (if known – ie. JHACOA): NIPSA Regulated by the state: No. Access to attorney and or advocate: None.

Diagnosis prior to attendance (if any): OCD, Minor Depression, General Anxiety Disorder.
Experienced the following:
Trauma due to escort services: No Description: Was woken up and 5:30 in the morning unexpectedly by two large men hired by my parents. I was asked to comply, and if I choose not to comply they "had the right to take me by force" to Outback Therapeutic expeditions in Utah. Was also escorted from Outback to Monarch school. I

Communication and Privacy Rights Violations: Yes Description: Was not allowed to talk to my parents on the phone until having been Monarch for a month. Once allowed, I was allowed only two 15-minute calls a month that were intensely monitored by staff (they would listen to your conversations and time you. These 15-minute calls were the only one-on-one communication I had with my parents (excluding visits), until I earned the privilege of phone card five months prior to my graduation, and by that time the ideas of the program were so engraved in my mind that I did not tell my parents the truth about Monarch's practices.
No communication with any of my friends until after I had been at the program for ten months and went home for the first time. Even ones who never touched drugs in their life. Parents needed to approve which friends I could write to, and at no point was I allowed to call or e-mail them.
Was required to admit to all past experiences that are humiliating and tell my parents all my embarrassing sexual, drug-related, etc. experiences.
Forced to walk in groups on three or more students to get from building to building, and would need to tell a staff prior to doing so.
Was not allowed alone time unless it was punitive as in a work assignment or bans from others. Often kids who choose to spend time alone were confronted by staff (and sometimes students trained to do so) as "isolating" and would lose the privelage of siting alone to read a non-school related book.

Mail monitoring: Yes

Description: Was required to write one handwritten letter to each parent every week. The letters were read by staff and would be handed back to students if they contained any negativity about the program, were too short in length, did not talk about feelings, and/or

Call-monitoring: Yes

Description: See above

Filtered, Restricted or Interrupted Correspondence: Yes

Description: Was only allowed to go home three times during my 19.5 month stay at Monarch. 1st visit: 5 days. 2nd Vi

Seclusion Used
Yes No
Description:

Seclusion (Self):
Yes No
Seclusion (Witnessed):
Yes No
Description:

Physical Restraint Used Yes No

Physical Restraint (Self) Yes No
Physical Restraint (Witnesseses) Yes No
Peer conducted restraint: Yes No
Description:

Forced labor No, but students were assigned to work during weekends, and would not only take away privileges if the student disobeyed a staff, but also would often (depending on the staff) indoctrinate the student into believing that they were "giving back to the school"if the work was punitive rather than a chore. Staff justified these assignments as "therapeutic", and while hard work can be therapeutic, staff would sometimes forget to take students off "work assignment", and thus have the now subservient teen alone or with one other student in the cold and isolated from the rest of the "community" when lunch and dinner times were occurring.

Restricted Access to the Bathroom Yes, during group sessions, the facilitator (most often a staff leader with no license in clinical psychology) to deny a student the right to go often without reason.


Scare Tactics Yes
Description:


Exposure to harsh elements (ie. Extreme heat, snow or rain) Yes No
Description:

Excessive Exercise Yes No
Description:

Food/Nutritional Deprivations Yes
Description: During intense "emotional growth workshops" , I, along with my peers was feed, but by no means was the food substantial enough to compensate for the energy expelled during such experiences.

Physical Punishment No
Emotional, Physical, or Sexual Abuse by Staff
Yes, in a group session a therapist made fun of the way I was expressing my emotions, and broke a chair in the process. The man was saying that I was a brat and continued on to exaggerate my simple frustration as a three-year-old throwing a fit.


Education and Mental Health Treatment – [ Please rate: (1) Unsatisfactory, (10) Superior]

Individualized Treatment Plan
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
Description:

Satisfied with training background of staff members who provided:
Education 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
Therapy 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
Support 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

Satisfaction with After Care provided:
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
Do you now experience any of the following:
Nightmares: Yes
Anxiety: Sometimes, but unrelated.

Additional Comments:

Would you be willing to speak with a parent or family member considering placement at the facility you attended?
Would you be interested in volunteering for CAFETY or subscribing to CAFETY's
newsletter? If so, please visit cafety.org
Would you be willing to share your experiences as a CAFETY presenter at academic
conferences?
Would you be willing to speak with the press, if contacted? (We will contact you
prior to taking such action to confirm.)
Would it be ok to share your contact information with Protection and Advocacy
organizations or Child Protective Service agencies? (We will contact you prior to taking such action to confirm.)
Would you be willing to speak with a parent or family member considering placement at the facility you attended?
If you responded yes to any questions between 1-6, please submit the following:

Name:
Age:
Address:
Tel:
Home:
Cell:
Email:
Myspace/Facebook, etc:
Would you be willing to submit your testimony in support of End Child Abuse in
Residential Programs Act of 2009? (if so, please see link below)

References:
Datasheet about the boarding school at Fornits Home for Wayward Web Fora

Mary Collins at Cross Creek Manor (From:Youthrights.org)

This story was originally written on a webpage created to provide statements for a GAO hearing in 2007. The address is cafety.youthrights.org and it waits for your statement if you believe that your stay at a boarding school included unfair treatment or even abuse. All rights and credits goes to the author Mary Collins, who posted the original story on cafety.youthrights.org

From 4/26/2002-4/1/2003 I attending Cross Creek Manor.

The main form of abuse I received was neglect. I went to Cross Creek Manor having just come out with the sexual abuse I endured with my father--only to be told I was lying. My mother sent me self-help books on it, but a lot of times they were held from me. I know I wasn't the only person who this happened to.

My health problems came quickly, and that's where it was hard. I had an infected gallbladder, infected kidneys and a staph infection in my vaginal tract which led to difficult problems. I endured harassment from the PA at CCM--him making horrible comments about my vagina that I'd rather not repeat again. When the doctor decided to finally take care of my staph infection (previously I had been told that I was manipulating and exaggerating) my mother drove out to be with me. I'd need time to heal.

I got to the office and prepared myself on the table. My mother asked if there would be any anesthesia. They were to be removing the damaged hymen (from my rape) among other things that I don't remember. There was NO anesthesia. I was given 1/4 of a Valium.

So, here I was, not sedated, having my vaginal tract scraped out. I was in so much pain that I don't remember everything that happened or how long it took. My mother had to tell me most of what happened, and here is what she said:

• I nearly blacked out from the pain
• They removed 4 anal cotton swabs of pus
• They performed a D&C, still under no sedation

After it was done, I was given Lortabs to deal with the pain. My mother took good care of me.

However, I couldn't stay with her forever and I had to go back. Back to a place where I didn't get Lortabs, where I still had to run in P.E. and keep moving in 120 degree weather. At times I would be wearing a maxi pad, underwear, and the Dickies pants and the ice pack I was using (with a paper towel on it) would still get blood. I was able to lie in the sick room once, when a "Radio 3" that really cared about me helped me out in that aspect. I ended up getting infected again--another kidney infection and UTI that took months to fix once I left.

There were other things that happened that I remember and don't remember. I remember working in the kitchen was a privilege. I remember trying really hard not to scream in the bathroom with my UTI or infections because there was to be no talking in the bathroom. I remember feeling like I needed to go to a hospital and being told that I was manipulating my way out. I remember praying a rosary every day to help me get out. There was nothing I wanted more than to leave, to feel better, to not be forced to avoid taking care of myself.

While this is just one story, it flipped my life around. I may not be able to have children. I have vulvar vestibulitis (just extreme pain with nearly every vaginal activity) that may or may not go away. And I have blacked out, forgotten periods of time that proves it was some messed up trauma. I know it wasn't the worst center, but no 13 year old should have to deal with that.

Thank you, and I hope this assists in putting these horrible centers out of business.

Mary Collins

References:
Datasheet about the boarding school at Fornits Home for Wayward Web Fora
The original statement on cafety.youthrights.com

Fay Leff at The Family Foundation School (From Youthright.org)

This story was originally written on a webpage created to provide statements for a GAO hearing in 2007. The address is cafety.youthrights.org and it waits for your statement if you believe that your stay at a boarding school included unfair treatment or even abuse. All rights and credits goes to the author Fay Leff, who posted the original story on cafety.youthrights.org



I'm going to attempt to make this as cohesive as possible; however, i find i have trouble remembering lots from my short stay at the Family Foundation School (FFS), much seems to be blocked out in my mind.

During my stay at FFS, I remember on several occasions witnessing students being restrained by other students (at the direction of staff) and being carried off to the isolation room. I remember a time when a new girl with bulimia was restrained by students while one staff member yelled in her face during dinner. One of the saddest things I can recall there was a young female student telling me about how she was a lesbian before FFS and had a girlfriend, but how she now realized how wrong that was. The idea that the school convinced her this was immoral and belittled entirely the feelings she had had for this other woman blew my mind.

I stayed quiet during most of my stay at FFS, and luckily did not experience any of the physical abuses first hand. However one cannot deny the emotional HELL of living in this environment. One of the rules I struggled with the most while there was not being allowed to journal. No journaling! A proven, well used, standard therapeutic practice was not allowed! Because we were never allowed to speak our minds without fear of punishment, I began to feel like a prisoner in my own head. I remember waiting to use the bathroom all night so that I could use the small bathroom in our trailer/dorm JUST so I would have a few moments to myself to think. On a spiritual retreat, I actually got in trouble for journaling! I’ve gone back and read these small journals I wrote… and it’s like I don’t even know the person that wrote them. I’ve found inventory lists I had to write while there of all the things we had done wrong, and I don’t even know what I was talking about in half of the items. I just knew I had to fill up that page with something.

Even after leaving the school, the emotional abuse still haunted me. I had dreams for months, and continue to still have some to this day, of being sent back, kicking and screaming, telling anyone that will listen that I am 18 now and they can’t send me back, and then being told due to some loophole, they can. When I first returned to my high school after FFS, I had many problems socially. I had always been an outgoing person and found I had a hard time fitting back into normal life. I had no idea how to talk to boys, because while at the school we weren’t even allowed to look a boy in the eye! I would shy away from my boyfriend and even wait till he left the room to change as quickly as possible so he would not see my body (even though he had before). I had to re-learn how to hug, be affectionate, etc. I was only at FFS 6 months; I can’t even imagine how long it took someone who was there the recommended 18 months to re-adjust to regular life.

FFS claims that things have changed, and that the school we all remember is not how it is today. However, there’s no real way for anyone to know that give the current situation. Students are not given contact info for any child advocates. All phone calls and letters are closely monitored. Students are forbidden any contact with the world outside of FFS. Even if visitors or parents come to visit, students were never allowed to say anything of what was going on without being accused of trying to manipulate their parents to get out of the program, and then get punished for trying. Many people like me just didn’t say anything cause it was easier to lay low and stay out of trouble. If these practices are still ongoing at the school today, there will never be any way for any outsiders to know what is really going on in the school.

To my knowledge, no one I came in contact with during my stay at FFS had a PhD or doctorate. I believe there was a psychologist associated with the school that was supposed to meet with all of us, but in my stay I never talked to such a person. In total in 6 months I believe I had 2 family ‘sessions’ with Susan Runge, and maybe one or 2 alone with her though I can’t remember for sure. Our group therapy “class’ was a joke. Even their website says that they put less emphasis on master’s level clinicians than on peer therapy… how can this be best? Seems to me for the enormous amount paid by parents for this program, therapy of any kind should never be run by a social worker alone, but always have a practicing, licensed Psychologist present.

While I’ve been told the quality of education at the school was pretty good (especially in comparison to some programs!), as someone who was already an over-achieving student, I found the classes boring and under stimulating. Prior to FFS, I had been an A student in all honors level classes at my high school. When I came to FFS, I was forced to repeat all of my junior year classes. This was because I was pulled from my high school in May by my parents at the direction of the school (even though their next school year didn’t start till June). Because I missed the last month of class at my high school, none of those classes counted. When I repeated the classes at FFS, they did not have a honors program, so I was dropped down to a college prep level class, except for my pre-calc class. While we were learning the same material as I had before, I found that it was no where near as challenging. Everything felt very ‘dumbed down’ and moved at a slow pace. While I understand most kids attending FFS were not good students at home, and probably needed this form of instruction, the school provided nothing for those that were excellent students. To me, the education I received while there was meaningless.

The biggest problem I found during my stay at FFS was the oversights of their admissions process. As mentioned, I was an A student. I did not get in trouble in school; all of my teachers loved me. I did not drink. I did not do drugs. I was not sexually promiscuous. I did not have an eating disorder. I had previously been to 2 psychiatrists and one psychologist. I’ve since learned both told my parents that I was just normal healthy adolescent. Why then did FFS accept me as a student? Other than talking to my parents, no research was done on my background. No one at my high school was interviewed. None of my friends’ parents were called. No one spoke to my previous therapists. As I’ve grown up and matured, I’ve realized that most of my problems with my parents were due to my mother’s unhealthy mental diseases. Because of the lack of background checks into whether a student even NEEDS to go to FFS, I was admitted solely based on the statements of a mental ill parent. Because of this, my adolescence was robbed from me.

Because of this, I almost was not able to graduate high school when I returned. Because of this, I’m not even in my high school yearbook. And if anyone at FFS has done even a miniscule amount of research, all of this could have been prevented.

2013 the school changed its name to Allynwood Academy due to the bad press.

References:

Datasheet about the boarding school at Fornits Home for Wayward Web Fora

The original statement on cafety.youthrights.com

Matthew Tierney at The Family Foundation School (From Youthright.org)

This story was originally written on a webpage created to provide statements for a GAO hearing in 2007. The address is cafety.youthrights.org and it waits for your statement if you believe that your stay at a boarding school included unfair treatment or even abuse. All rights and credits goes to the author Matthew Tierney, who posted the original story on cafety.youthrights.org


My name is Matthew Tierney. I attended The Family Foundation School from October of 2004, to December of 2008. This is my account.

I was sent to The Family School for several reasons. Stealing, lying, sex, and violence were among the reasons. I was immediately set straight upon introduction to The Family School. It was made clear that my lying and stealing would not be tolerated.

However, physical actions against me were never committed. I was repirmanded for my actions, in the form of physical manual labor. I believe that this was necessary, for if I did not suffer, I would not have changed. I believe that there needs to be some form of uncomfortability in order for one to change at times. This was certainly true for me.

The amount of change that occured ibn my life while attending that school is unmeasurable. I cannot describe the amount of gratitude I have towards the staff and students of The Family School. I not only learned to care for others, but I also learned to care about myself. I learned what it means to put in an honest day of work. I learned what it means to be happy. I have only one qualm, and that is with the conditions in which these hearings are done.

I believe that both sides of the issueneed to be heard. The bad and the good. To take only the bad, and use it to build a case, is completely, and utterly dishonorable. Not only does it show that our government is liable to being bias, it shows unfair ethics.

2013 the school changed its name to Allynwood Academy due to the bad press.

References:

Datasheet about the boarding school at Fornits Home for Wayward Web Fora

The original statement on cafety.youthrights.com

Leah Bonner at The Family Foundation School (From Youthright.org)

This story was originally written on a webpage created to provide statements for a GAO hearing in 2007. The address is cafety.youthrights.org and it waits for your statement if you believe that your stay at a boarding school included unfair treatment or even abuse. All rights and credits goes to the author Leah Bonner, who posted the original story on cafety.youthrights.org


I was sent to the Family Foundation School in Hancock, NY in the year 2000.

I immediately was eager to please, I had come out of an enjoyable wilderness program and was on my way to pacify my parents who had given up on raising me after nights of staying out and they're fear of the serious nature of my drug use. They had been contacted by an educational consultant while I was in Utah serving my time hiking in the dessert. I believe he prayed on their fear for my safety by telling them that a child with a case my severe was beyond normal methods of help and instructed them to send my to the Family School for a minimum of 18 months.

Within two weeks of being at the school I was not allowed to talk to boys, my parents, or any other new comer to the school. I was confused about they're policies about "negative" behavior, music I had grown up listening to, stories of the people I had grown to love back home, including some of my own family memebers, and any mention of drugs or partying in any kind of positive way.

They preached to me AA and absolute love, but continued to keep me from speaking to my parents. When I had the chance to have a brief conversation with them I was always punished after for something I had said, whether it was telling them about something that had happened to me, another student, or an employee.

Any mention of the school was considered manipulation and any mention of any success or progress I had achieved was considered prideful. I painfully got up day after day in front of my makeshift "family" where I was baraded with forced and influenced hate from my peers and they're insults and harsh words were not even comparable to what I endured from the staff. I was called a slut, a whore, an ungrateful human being; i was told by my family "mother" repeatedly that she hated me, and she clearly favored the other children, letting them get away with more than me. I struggled to be as honest as possible, but I was accused of lying on a daily basis.

I was forced to say extremely embarassing things infront of 30-40 of my peers. If I developed a close friendship with one of the other female students I was accused of being a lesbian and was not aloud to talk to or look at her. I saw my parents rarely and always got in trouble after. My Aunt drove 5 hours to come see me and the turned her down and sent her home. I was not aloud any comfort, they focused on humiliation.

After I decided I was going to leave in three months on my eighteenth birthday (after a long year of being at the school) I was forced to stand outside in the hall, I wasn't aloud to eat normal food, and I had to work without school. I was feed flavorless Cream of Wheat, english muffins with dry canned tuna, and a small cup of water. I was starving, and then I was accused of being bulemic, even though I was never alone, not even for a second to go to the bathroom. I was repeatedly told I was going to end up "dead, institutionalized, or in jail" if I left the school. I took care of a pig that I watched get shipped off to slaughter. I washed it, feed it, and gave it clean hay and water three times a day. I was forced to trot, I couldn't walk. No shoes. I was made to wear the most humiliating outfit they could find, and working included shoveling and carrying rocks in the middle of July and was told that it was God's work.

I was forced to watch or listen to the other students having fun, and as my belly grumbled I had to prepare other people's food. I was one of the many children there who were singled out as being unbreakable, that I was still too prideful and they had to do everything they could to humiliate me and they did. Turns out I'm not a drug addict, sex addict, or a harm to myself or others. I am a successful adult who deals everyday with what I've been through.

Within 3 years of leaving the nightmares slowly faded to a dull roar - I felt less fear in my dreams. However, large parts of my memory are missing, my brain is permanently damaged from the 15 and a half months I was there and will do anything to educate parents, to help them find a better way then incarcerating their children in an abusive program. I am strong, but a part of me will always be with those horrible memories of no love, no hope, and a attempted destruction of the person that I am.

Only now, seven years later, do I feel safe talking about this. I hope it helps other people.

2013 the school changed its name to Allynwood Academy due to the bad press.

References:

Datasheet about the boarding school at Fornits Home for Wayward Web Fora

The original statement on cafety.youthrights.com

Rebecca Shulmister at Tranquility Bay (From:Youthrights.org)

This story was originally written on a webpage created to provide statements for a GAO hearing in 2007. The address is cafety.youthrights.org and it waits for your statement if you believe that your stay at a boarding school included unfair treatment or even abuse. All rights and credits goes to the author Philipe David Garibay, who posted the original story on cafety.youthrights.org

Tranquility Bay: the institution whose foundation was built on a manipulative mask of attractive lies.


My conservative parents never imagined dealing with problems like these.
These were Jamaican citizens offered a job by an American man.
She said I would be there at least a year.
Never did I feel like people were against me until that first day.
I sat in an isolated room staring at the wall.
My dad signed rights for them to treat me however they like, anything to get me to follow the rules.
A woman staff ripped open the shower curtain... she just stood there staring at me.
Memories were no longer clear solid images but a haze of wishes.
He pulled a can of pepper spray from his side, lifted it to my face and pushed hard on the trigger.
No one would stand against the authorities.
Coerced into good behavior
An upper-level screamed at me “how did it feel when he raped you?!”
It appeared I made a complete turn around. I felt sad, battered and hopeless.
I believed my body was lying in a hospital bed and this program was a dream.


$40,000 a YEAR my dad spent $80,000

Late July of 1997 until Late June of 1999 I was held against my will in a corrupt Children's Behavior Modification Institution referred simply as- “The Program” 23 months of my adolescence was shared between the isolated tropics of Jamaica and behind the high concrete walls in Ensenada Mexico. I was a 15 year old in a whirlwind of trouble; akward in my new shaping body;depressed for various reasons;became more involved with drugs;unabale to communicate with either parent;ran away from home and dropped out of my first year of High School. My conservative parents never imagined having to face problems like these and they had to act fast. Tranquility Bay was advertised on the net after my searched for trouble teen help and seemed to him like the solution of a lifetime!

My Dad sent a Private Investigator out to search for me. While I was hiding out in a friends house, Sacramento P.D. Came and escorted me away from my brother and friends and into a patrol car which was driven a couple of blocks and I was then handed over to a child escort. I had not met this man, the escort used often by Tranquility Bay and other residential facilities to take children out of their homes and bring them to the program of their parents choice. I spent two nights with this stranger before arriving in Jamaica. He handed me over to my new guardians, Jamaican women who spoke Patois in a thick accent and had no experience in caring for children; these were jamaican citizens offered by an American man, Jay Kay.

The first morning I was assigned a buddy to tell me the rules. I heard her say I would be there at least one year. My heart sank. I couldn't believe my dad thought this was a good idea. She began telling me Tranquility Bay is a program based on levels (1-6) and utilizes a point system along with several seminars to move ahead in levels. “You earn points by following the rules, you lose points when you break the rules” She continued telling me about the 5 categories the rules were separated amongst.

• Examples of CAT 1's : neglect talking without permission sitting/standing without permission non-verbal communication
• Ex CAT 2's: major neglect insubordination meal violation talking back to staff not following instructions not following directions rude act disrespect to staff crossing ankles /legs
• Ex CAT 3's: touching without permission lying
• Ex CAT4's: Major rude act refusal run plans major lying
• Ex CAT5's: AWOL Major sexual misconduct

CAT3 and up will make you lose all your points and drop you back to level 1.

She continued to tell me we have group everyday for an hour except for Sundays. The next few things she told me about were our daily schedule, not being able to talk with our parents until we reach level 3 and no off grounds privileges until level 4. She told me about security guards around the clock keeping us in. There was no option of using the phone, it was in the office which was prohibited by students. Staff is to be present at all times, should i need to use the bathroom, id need to wait for an available staff to escort me.

My first day I was an observer, I kept to myself and witnessed girls telling on each other. I asked my buddy what that was about. She let me know if you see someone break a rule it is your responsibility to correct them, otherwise you will be lying – lying to yourself and lying by omission.

I couldn't believe these girls bought that, and acted on it. I felt completely out of place. My situation at home touched many friends and their parents, one specifically was working towards adopting me. Never did I feel like people were against me, until that first day.

During group I was asked to share “my name, where I'm from and why I'm here.” My response was, “My name is Beck, I'm from Sacramento, California and I'm here I guess because I dropped out of school, I was doing drugs and I ran away from home.” Hands shot up and one girl was called on by our “family” case manager. She told me her experience of me is a liar, a manipulator and out of touch with my femininity. Her experience was followed by a unanimous “ditto” by the rest of the family.

I chose not to share the next day.

My second day in group I was asked if I wanted to share and I said, “No, thanks.” This response led a patriotic family member to bark at me exclaiming I disregarded the other sisters. My refusal to engage in what I felt was an undebatable conversation gave reason for the case manager to show me what “worksheets” was all about. I received a CAT3: Refusal.

A large Jamaican woman with cherry brown eyes and curly hair sprouting from her chin escorted me to the worksheets room. Upon entering the room a recorded man's voice described the life as Henry Ford. Each recording lasted on average 1 hour and 20 minutes and after the tape worksheets were passed out with 30 questions each. We needed to answer 80% correctly or that particular worksheet would not count toward the amount we were in there for. For example, CAT 2's had you doing 8 worksheets. CAT 3's had you doing approximately 20, CAT 4's about 36, and CAT 5's 50 or more.

During the tape we were to sit 3 inches from the back of our chair with our heads forward. If we slipped up, another work sheet would be added. If we hadn't completed our worksheets by the end of the day (8:00 PM) we would drag our mattress to the hallway and sleep under the fluorescent lights with huge tropical bugs flying around and on us all night.

My second day in worksheets I was talking without permission and was placed in what they had a couple names for: “RR” (Room Restriction) A.K.A. “OP” (Observation Placement) A.K.A. “Isolation” A.K.A. “SOLITARY Confinement.” Basically speaks for itself.

I sat in an isolated room staring at the wall while a staff member sat at the end observing me. They told me I would be in there from 3 days until whenever they thought I was ready to finish my worksheets. I had been quite rebellious, full of angst and was a starving free spirit. I felt trapped, locked up with no hope of freedom. I began thinking about what a decent kid I was and I felt with every piece of me this highly secretive program was sucking money from our parents at my expense. My mental, emotional and physical health were in the hands and control of inexperienced women in a third world country. I thought about our rights; freedom of speech for instance. We weren't allowed the freedom of speech, we had to ask for it. I wondered how we could be held against our will in a facility privately owned and operated with zero oversight. I became overwhelmed with fear that I was correct in thinking this is a money-making gimmick and we were just for show. I began pondering brain-washing cults and how successful they had been in ending people's lives, convincing them suicide is the answer. I could not understand how anyone would fall for any of that. I kept seeing the girls in my “family” behave like robots, unlike any kid out in the real world. I knew I had to get out. Since I was in the worse punishment department they had. I decided to act out.

I sang songs loud with profanity, banging on the chair as though the arms were drums. I talked to myself, I stood and sat without permission, went to the bathroom without permission. Several “managerial” staff along with the director of TB, Jay Kay, came in and ordered me to stop. They told me I was prolonging my stay by acting like this and the rest is a blur because at the time I had my mind set on getting shipped back. They told me I'd better start behaving. I informed THEM that I was already in their harshest punishment and I didn't have any interest in joining that whack family, so I'll just be as happy as a clam by myself in there, the isolated room
Jay let me know my dad signed for permission to allow them to treat me however they liked, whatever it takes to get me to follow rules. I asked what he meant, doubting he had permission to beat me. He left the room assuring me I didn't want to find out. I made up my mind that I would find out because this place needs to be found out about and parents need to know this place is a manipulative ploy designed to bring in money. This place cannot be the solution they are paying $40,000 a year for.

Later that evening Jay and some women staff instructed me to take a shower and a staff member would administer some lice shampoo while I bathed. I said, “No, way. I am not going to shower with a man in the room and no staff is going to administer anything when I'm naked.” Jay warned me if I didn't cooperate they would all hold me down and wash my hair with it. I knew they physically could and I was very self conscious about my body so I reasoned with them. I agreed to wash my own hair so long as no one came in the bathroom while I bathed. While I rinsed the shampoo out of my hair a woman staff member ripped open the shower curtain. I covered myself in shock, cursed at her, asking her what she was doing. Sh just stood staring at me. Seconds went by and she left. I was humiliated, disrespected and lied to. They asked me if I washed my hair with it when I came out of the bathroom. I didn't answer until the second time they asked. I responded, “What the fuck do you think?” I confronted their betrayal to the agreement. I told them I lost any bit of respect and trust I had for them. I should have known they wouldn't care.
I found myself in a strange place mentally. I was homesick for meals my mom made, I missed the smell of bagels on Sunday mornings. I missed hanging out with my brother on the couch watching morning time cartoons.

My mind kept bringing up images of my early childhood, from age 4 to 11. As the days and weeks went on my mind started creating false memories; I couldn't remember any real memories. The memories were no longer clear, solid images, but a haze of wishes. I didn't understand why my mind started conjuring up scenarios of a family and life I never knew. I felt hopelessly alone, isolated from safety, reality and any chance of a family.

My harsh reality of the moment was that my dad wouldn't see what happens behing those walls and I should probably try hard to race to level 6 so I could go home.

They released me back to work sheets so I could finish my set from before, along with the 53+ I acquired in OP. After a few days in worksheets I began feeling more comfortable with the worksheet staff. During meals they let us talk without permission. We talked about a range of things like witchcraft, what Jamaican city life is like, if everyone in Jamaica smokes Ganja (all their eyes were always glazed over and bloodshot). We also talked about what we wanted to do when we grew up. One of the girls, Wendy, said something about a rock star and I joked about being a stripper at her shows. The staff told us to stop talking and I asked if she had a problem with strippers. Without hesitation Ms. Vassel handed me over to the OP Staff, Mrs. King.
Since I was one of the first kids in Tranquility Bay, they hadn't figured out the exact way they would execute punishments. So, back in OP, I was instructed to sit on the floor, back straight, face the wall and be silent until my time had been served. Time wasn't exact either yet, but at this point the initial staff member who sent a “student” to OP had to release her. Well, I knew I'd be in there for at least a few days and my back hurt, so I laid down.

I grew angry. I became increasingly confused with how this program exists and how the other girls just went right along with it. I was angry that these cold hearted people imprisoned kids they'd never met before in an act to help them, yet in reality saw a good way to make money. I laid there steaming in the idea that my dad was at home belittling my intelligent mom and continuing to shut my sister out of our lives. I remembered how I'd sneak around to see her; to watch a little league ball game with her. I fought hard to keep in connection with her. She was my sister and she knew like my brother and I both that my dad was a disappointing abusive controlling (understatement) man whose main objective was to control the power, hold the power, release the power. He kicked my sister out after nearly breaking her arm and ribs. He beat up my brother pretty bad, and me. He smacked me in the face once and choked me until my brother came running in.

I was growing more angry the longer I stayed in that room knowing the real criminal was free and in control of me. I felt like I had nothing to lose.

I started talking to myself and Jay came in to tell me to stop. I finally listened and he left. Mrs. King allowed me to go to the bathroom. When I came out I sat and talked with her. Jay's assistant who followed him everywhere came in and ordered me to the window. I tried explaining I just wanted to talk with the staff. He said he's given me enough chances to behave. I instigated a “solution” to my behavior. I refused to move to the window. He pulled a can of pepper spray from his side and lifted it to my face. He followed me around the room until the can was empty.
I was crying hysterically. I began hyperventilating. Mrs. King helped me rinse the spray off my face. She cursed the man and later went and cursed at Ms. Vassel.

But these were the men in charge; unless the Jamaican women wanted to lose their jobs no one would stand against the authorities. Mrs. King held a paper sack to my face while I tried calming down. The man who sprayed me stared at me. I dug my pinky nail into my wrist, thinking about all the girls and boys being prisoners here, coerced into “good” behavior, essentially ridding us of independent personalities of which our parents would farcely see as improvement. This way they would keep faith in such an expensive investment. I knew my dad would never trust anything I said and I began to realize I would be captive for a long tune, I understood at that moment my livelihood for an indefinite time was ruled by these con-men. I decided then that I would have to wait until I got out to let the truth be heard.

Tranquility Bay; the institution who's foundation was built on a manipulative mask of attractive lies.

I have always been a tom-boy, always more interested in boy's clothes rather than girl's clothes, boyish hair cuts, etc. Though at the time I had an extremely unattractive eclectic style limited to a couple unique pants and a few vandalized work shirts; I still had a strong will about my freedom as an XX Chromosome to present myself in anyway I chose. The principle to me was freedom to choose.

I looked like a nerdy wanna-be tough white trash punk dude. Now, in the navy blue nylon skirt and white blouse uniform, I looked like a wanna-be tough sloppy androgynous angsty teen. I was super uncomfortable in the stereo-typically girly uniform and it showed.

Seminar facilitators were coming over in a few days and I was still in worksheets. The first seminar we all had to complete was called “Discovery.” Those who had completed Discovery the prior month went on to a Focus seminar and from there, Accountability. Graduates of this could start getting to Level 5, start the Parent/Child seminars and successfully graduate the Program. By the time I completed Focus the organizers added another seminar called Keys to Success.
Discovery seminar consists of 3 long days of emotionally draining workshops including a session of telling on ourselves and each other for any rule-breaking; admitting our rapes/molestation/abuse we'd suffered from; saying “You Die” to each person while looking them in the eye; standing before everyone and admitting it is our choice to be in this program based on our actions.

Stock affirmation propaganda decorated the large basement room (girls previous sleeping quarters) clogging the space with congesting permanent marker stench which always gave me a migraine. The propaganda posters were drawn up by the upper-levels (Level 4-6) early that first morning, saying things like, “That which is not acted upon is not learned,” and “ASSUME = Ass Out Of You And Me.” “Insanity = same thing over and over again expecting different results.” A poster drawn like this:

INSERT PICTURE HERE

The first day I went into Discovery Seminar, I had run out of clean blouses so I had to wear a white shirt my mom packed that had a picture of a bagel on it and marked me as a “bagel babe.”
Motion Picture 2001's theme song played over large speakers. Girls and boys filed into the basement and took a seat. When the music ended a short lady named Lou introduced herself.
She told us it is our choice to be here as it would also be our choice not to be here. I wondered if that meant I could leave and go home. I think she saw the question cross my mind so she asked me to stand up. I did and she studied me. She glared at me and walked up 'til her nose was an inch from mine and I had to look at one eye at a time. Spit flew from her mouth and landed on my face when she made reference to my appearance: “Bagel babe?! That's a joke.”
I felt my skin heat up, my face flushed, stomach turned. She continued attacking my hair style and how I presented myself. She commented on how my lack of self-respect shows with my acne problem and how fat I was. I held eye contact because I was a wanna-be tough chick, but inside I was breaking down, I was 15 and grew more confused everyday.

About an hour later I asked if I could use the bathroom. She said yes and while I was in there ask myself what I'm avoiding; suggesting I was hiding to avoid something. I felt like each minute longer she spoke, my spirit and beliefs broke down and I was becoming more impressionable.

She spoke very convincingly and with confidence. Everyone was going along with her procedures and turned on each other, girls shot their hands up to tell on other girls for the smallest things, things seeming irrelevant for anyone's benefit. For example: “last week Michelle was crossing her ankles,” “Sarah didn't bring her water bottle today.”

And after these girls made these confessions, the accused had to stand up and thank them for helping them stay accountable for their actions.

They were given self-correction forms to announce their violation, what led them to misbehave and what they would do to prevent that in the future. If they chose not to self-correct, they'd receives a staff-correction which was a CAT 2. Anyone with a CAT 2 in Discovery would have to choose-out and try again the following month.

By the third day of Discovery I was exhausted, hadn't eaten much, slept only a couple of hours each night and was emotionally drained from hearing and talking about all the sad things that happened in my 15 years. I was consumed with thoughts of my alcoholic mom talked down to and disrespected constantly by my dad, my sister running away when I was 8, my dad trying to beat her up at a little league softball game. I didn't think too much about the rape, it just seemed no bigger than the separation from my sister my dad forced on us. Or his lack of thought when leaving my mom behind during major Jewish Holidays. But for whatever reason, during the workshop on Discovery day 3, of beating a towel on the floor while picturing bad stuff, and upper-level screamed at me. “How did it feel when he raped you?!”

As though she was some crazy psychologist expecting to hit home. I'd grown from the rape; the person and I had talked about it and he apologized and I understood something important to help me not completely shut off. I understood I wouldn't forget and I wouldn't ever forgive the action or that part of him, and I knew he would live with guilt forever from it, but everything I witnessed as a little girl, watching my father's behavior and my mom's lack of presence hurt me more than anything. So when the upper-level screamed that at me it reminded me that this place is a torturing ground for young minds with vulnerable spirits.

When it came time to beat the floor while thinking about mommy's mistakes, I had a little bit on mom, but most everything seethed my dad. I was supposed to think about mom so I just laid on the ground, I couldn't beat the floor thinking about how she had already been beat. The upper-level came to me again and said if I don't beat the floor I will choose out of Discovery and wait longer to even be able to talk to my mom again. I switched my thoughts to my dad and beat the floor some more until it ended.

We were then instructed to play with play-dough and Tag and small children's games. If we didn't, we didn't find our magical child and would need to try Discovery the following month.
Finally Discovery ended and I returned to complete my worksheets. About a week later I joined the family. It appeared I'd make a complete turn around. I felt battered, lost, sad and hopeless. I started following the rules hoping I could go home soon. Everyone wanted to go home. Everyone followed the rules, but girls would accidentally forget their water bottle a few times and be sent to worksheets.

Many nights I'd hear my roommates cry themselves to sleep, many nights I'd be unable to sleep, I was unable to comprehend the reality of being so far and in isolation from the rest of the world. We had no access to news, no radio, no music, no stores. We had ice cold showers, fish eyes, chicken feet and goat bones in our food, and often had to use the bathroom over each other's waste. We did our laundry in buckets with a ½ cup of detergent. We filled buckets of pool water and flushed toilets with them. Sometimes we would have to use the pool water for bathing as well.

We were expected to be verbally abusive to each other in groups always challenging what the person is sharing.

“My experience of you is what you're sharing about is not real.” None of us knew what we were saying, just kids responding in hopes to be seen.

All these negative horribly lonely characteristics of the program were contrasted by the peaceful steady crashing waves of the Caribbean right outside the walls. So surreal I grew to encompass an idea I had smoked some weed laced with something that rendered me in a vegetable state. I believed my body was lying in a hospital bed and this program was a dream. I felt crazy.

Good things about the Program were: appreciating everything, name it and I still appreciate it whole heartedly 2 years without meth; I haven't touched it since. I swam in the ocean on Christmas day in 1997, it was wonderful. I met Jamaican women who taught me some about Jamaican culture. I wrote a book there – not work re-reading or publishing, but I wrote an 87+ page book. Heard girls' life stories, learned that everyone had skeletons. We made some creative haunted houses on Halloween. Celebrated Christmas for the first time. Experienced a Jamaican Patty, delicious.

We were told not to tell our parents in letters we wanted to go home. Even in the seminars, the facilitators mentioned that if we didn't graduate the Program it was as though we wanted to die because we surely wouldn't live if we didn't graduate.

Tranquility Bay: the institution whose foundation was built on a manipulative mask of attractive lies.


My conservative parents never imagined dealing with problems like these.
These were Jamaican citizens offered a job by an American man.
She said I would be there at least a year.
Never did I feel like people were against me until that first day.
I sat in an isolated room staring at the wall.
My dad signed rights for them to treat me however they like, anything to get me to follow the rules.
A woman staff ripped open the shower curtain... she just stood there staring at me.
Memories were no longer clear solid images but a haze of wishes.
He pulled a can of pepper spray from his side, lifted it to my face and pushed hard on the trigger.
No one would stand against the authorities.
Coerced into good behavior
An upper-level screamed at me “how did it feel when he raped you?!”
It appeared I made a complete turn around. I felt sad, battered and hopeless.
I believed my body was lying in a hospital bed and this program was a dream.


$40,000 a YEAR my dad spent $80,000

References:
Datasheet about Tranquility Bay at Fornits Home for Wayward Web Fora
The original statement on cafety.youthrights.com

Daniel Merrill at The Familiy Foundation School (From:Youthrights.org)

This story was originally written on a webpage created to provide statements for a GAO hearing in 2007. The address is cafety.youthrights.org and it waits for your statement if you believe that your stay at a boarding school included unfair treatment or even abuse. All rights and credits goes to the author Daniel Merrill, who posted the original story on cafety.youthrights.org

I was seventeen when my parents made the decision to enroll me in The Family School in Hancock, NY. The next 26 months of my life were an experience in survival.

At the school, i was stripped of my identity as soon as i arrived. Most of life was stuffed full of activity. The 11 hour school day and lack of any personal space or time is not important though. What is important is the absolute brainwashing, contsant antagonizing, and harsh punishment methods.

I had to repeat my junior and some of my sophmore year when I arrived at the school. This was due to improper paperwork, and a lack of care for transcripts. For more than fourty thousand dollars a year, i had hoped to enroll where i had left in school. Instead, i was placed back in earth science, where i wasted my time for a full year. I had aced the midterm which was taken straight out of the regents final exam, and i was still not reevaluated or allowed to audit the course.

Every mealtime was a terror. In my "Family unit" we had discussions at the table called "table topics". these topics involved bringing concerns, real or imagined, to the attention of myself or one of my peers. The leader of my family was a self admitted sex addict, and every problem with a student was tainted by that. These topics involved high levels of mental and emotional abuse designed to break down the psyche of the student involved. If this student did not say what the staff members wanted, they would be given a consequence; sitting or standing in the corner, being pulled out of class to do useless physical labor, alternative food(a single packet of cram of wheat for breakfast, or a single soy burger for lunch or dinner), denial of contact with parents, and many more punishments which were socially and emotionally damaging. Only a few members were educated in child care or any kind of therapy, and they seldom were involved in these table topics.

I was taken out of school in 2004 for more than 5 months, forced to stand in the corner, trot while standing, eating 3 alternative meals even though i am diabetic, and doing physical labor for 11 hours per day.

This labor included carring buckets full of rocks up a steep hill, labor in the kitchen and groundskeeping tasks. At one point in the winter, i was forced to stand in an outside hallway in the New York winter, when temperatures did not exceed 45 degrees inside even during the day.

My experience was certainly not the hardest which i have seen. Students were sometimes kept at the school for up to five years, and submitted to the same amount of hardship. I saw one student commit suicide. Also, one winter I witnessed a restraint in the snow involving 3 large staff membersw, at least one of whom was sitting on the fourteen year old student.

In the time since I left the school I have experienced an incredible amount of difficulty in rebuilding my identity and my ability to relate to peers. I hope that this bill will help other children be protected from the hell which many of us have survived.

2013 the school changed its name to Allynwood Academy due to the bad press.

References:
Datasheet about the boarding school at Fornits Home for Wayward Web Fora
The original statement on cafety.youthrights.com

Steve Gottlieb at The Familiy Foundation School (From:Youthrights.org)

This story was originally written on a webpage created to provide statements for a GAO hearing in 2007. The address is cafety.youthrights.org and it waits for your statement if you believe that your stay at a boarding school included unfair treatment or even abuse. All rights and credits goes to the author Steve Gottlieb, who posted the original story on cafety.youthrights.org

My name is Steve Gottlieb and i went to FFS from December 2004 to June 2007.

I was 15 when i got there...17 when i left. I would like to start by saying that no paper, no book, no text, and no way of expression could ever be enough to give an explanation of how disgusting the Family School's program is. From day one, they start to conform you to their perfect poster child. Cut hair, polo shirt, jeans;everyone looks the same after a while.

Without a chance to really answer the question, you are labled as an addict. Weather you smoked pot once or did heroin 2,000 times. The school viewed all drug usesers as abusers. Most of the staff were either non using addicts or x-convicts.

The school was built like this: kids confront kids too look good for staff. If kid does not confront kid, staff uses emotionally abusive methods too punish the more "senior" student. The school is run off fear and the staff know that they can get away with anything they want. They called us manipulators, however if we ever told our parents the actual truth about what was going on, the school would acuse us as manipulating them...than go manipulate themselves. Come on! Who is our parents going to believe? Their juvenile deliquent or the "professional boarding school".

That place is a house of abuse. Many of the staff members fall into the catagory of those who abused the children. Specifically Tommy Cummings, Jeff Westby, Joe Ragalovich, PAUL GEER!!! Let me stop at Paul Geer. Paul Geer, an admitted sex addict and ex-convict for tax fraud, is the family leader for Family 6 and instructor for mixed chorus. He favors those in chorus and if you are not on his favorite list, he will find any excuse to make you feel incompitant and a much lesser person than you actually are. Staff knew that kids couldnt react to them as if they were on the street, so staff took advadtage of that and "tried" me and many of my friends.

Thank God i have a good head on my shoulders, if i didnt, i might have been brain washed with the rest of them. I had a group of friends who all understood that FFS was a joke...we knew this...however, it was never spoken of; much like a mental pact between friends. I stuck with them until the day i got the day i got out. Finally, done with the useless punishments and intense mental and emotional abuse.

I sit here a year and a half later and am now on medacine again because the trauma caused by FFS is still imbeaded in my brain. I hope that one day they will never allow a soul to enter that false utopia

2013 the school changed its name to Allynwood Academy due to the bad press.

References:
Datasheet about the boarding school at Fornits Home for Wayward Web Fora
The original statement on cafety.youthrights.com

Kimberly Pacent at Legacy Private School (From:Youthrights.org)

This story was originally written on a webpage created to provide statements for a GAO hearing in 2007. The address is cafety.youthrights.org and it waits for your statement if you believe that your stay at a boarding school included unfair treatment or even abuse. All rights and credits goes to the author Kimberly Pacent, who posted the original story on cafety.youthrights.org

When I was sixteen years old, I was sent to a residential facility in Utah called Legacy Private School. The director of this program was a man named Dan Harrah.

I had never left home for more than a week and had no idea what I was to expect. I was thankful to leave the wilderness program that I had been sent to, but would later regret my gratitude.

When I met Dan Harrah he presented himself kindly. I knew however that something about the place wasn’t right. None of the girls or staff were warm to me when I arrived which made leaving my parents an even more heart wrenching experience. What happened when they closed the door behind them is a blur. Ten months of humiliation, discomfort, physical and verbal abuse and worst of all gut wrenching fear. It is difficult for me to remember exactly what was said because my fear seemed to block out so much of the noise. Dan barged into the room as he always did and attacked me in an attempt to break down any defenses that I had. He called me names and screamed in my face. Most memorably, he told me that he would be embarrassed to have me as his daughter while I was sitting in a hallway, where I was made to sit for three months.

During my three months in the hallway I was not aloud to lean against the walls. When I asked staff members to turn up the heat, they refused. I ate dinner on the kitchen floor. I waited until nighttime when I would cuddle with my stuffed animals and cry myself to sleep while sleeping on a mattress that was laid out in the hallway.

All the while I was made fun of for crying by the staff and girls. I tried to cry quietly to avoid the humiliation. I was imitated by the other girls, laughed at constantly and made to wear hospital scrubs. During a phone session with my mother I began to “whine.” I was told that if I continued to “whine” that Dan would take the phone away from me. He took the phone; I grabbed for it and began to scream for my mother’s help as Dan came towards me. He forced me down to the floor and sat on top of me (Dan is about 300 pounds, I was around 100 at the time). I screamed that I could not breathe. Dan told me that he would not move until I stopped screaming. He said that I tried to take a swing at him, I never remember this happening. I had rug burn all over my face.

The girls were taught to humiliate and verbally attack one another. They were condoned by therapists and staff for doing so. Therapists and staff often joined in the teasing and attacking.

A girl named Susan was most severely humiliated by the group. Her journals were read aloud and made fun of. She was made to wear two pairs of gloves and bandages around her arms after she was accused of trying to hurt herself while picking at a scab. She was made to wear a gas mans uniform with tape across the top because she was accused of trying to show off her body when she bent over and her shirt would slink down. Worst of all, she took poor care of her hygiene, so the girls were encouraged to paint a tool belt for Susan where she would keep her hygiene products. She had to wear the tool belt around all day long and was aloud twenty minutes daily to look at a hygiene book made for small children.

We wore bare feet outside for a long time because the “hallway girls” were considered “run risks.” Later we were made to wear hospital booties and plastic bags around our feet. I was accused of lying intentionally to my parents, to staff and to the therapist, when in reality; I subconsciously lied to protect myself. I trusted no one with good reason. I did not tell my parents the full story of what was going on because I knew that I would be chastised by members of the facility for telling the truth. Before I left, a therapist told the group that a few children would be “recycled” soon.

After leaving treatment I suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder. I was severely brainwashed and believed that if I did not return to program that I would probably die or live a life without purpose. Truthfully, I could go on and on about the “tough love” treatment I received at Legacy, but hopefully this short report makes my point clear. Children around the country are subjected to the tough love experiment every day. Most of the privately run institutions are not regulated and the children are given no rights. It is morally incomprehensible that this is aloud to continue. Legacy went bankrupt.

Dan Harrah ran off with another therapist from the program to start yet another identical program for girls in Clearfield, Utah. The program is called Renaissance. Neither therapist’s online biography mentions Legacy at all.

References:
The original statement on Youthrights

A stay at the Mount Bachelor Academy (From:youthrights.org)

This story was originally written on a webpage created to provide statements for a GAO hearing in 2007. The address is cafety.youthrights.org and it waits for your statement if you believe that your stay at a boarding school included unfair treatment or even abuse. All rights and credits goes to the author, who posted the original story on cafety.youthrights.org

Having been a student at MBA during it's first 4 years of opening, it's hard to describe my reaction to this news of MBA's temporary closing. Elated? Relieved? Perhaps vindicated is the best word to describe it.

Though I did learn some useful tools and behavioral modification techniques, those pale in comparison to the horrible memories I carry with me, suppressed for years until I began working through them very recently.

I arrived at the school a very young, scared, self-loathing, 12 year old girl, who had already attempted suicide 3 times. I was stripped of the drop of self-esteem I had there, in the school's process commonly known as "tearing the student down in order to build them back up".

When I arrived at MBA, I was on very strong prescription psychiatric medication. I met with a licensed psychiatrist twice during my 3 1/2 year stay. Once in the registration process, and one more time 6 months later. There were many times where the staff were "unable" or "forgot" to refill my medication, which, among other things, greatly effects the brain chemistry, as well as induces withdrawal symptoms. During the "lifesteps", I was not allowed to take my medication, was only allowed 2-3 hours sleep, was forced to perform physical "emotional growth" acts to the point of exhaustion, was strongly encouraged, on a regular basis, to scream until my face was covered with purple spots of burst blood vessels, was consistently told I was "worthless, manipulative, a whore, a slut, a spoiled brat, unwanted by my parents" and other names I don't care to share. I was 12 years old.

The staff allowed other, older students to call me similar names while I was on a "self study" for kissing a boy, who was 4 years older than I. During the 3 month self study, I was not allowed to look at or talk to anyone, sat in a desk facing the wall in the dining area, was given writing assignments, of which 90% were about the "negative" aspects of my "soul" and personality--I still have 3 of those journals.

When I attended MBA, NONE of the staff were licensed in any mental health/child welfare/psychological areas. In fact, Sharon Bitz, now the Executive Director of the school, was hired as a Drama teacher in my second year at MBA. I understand that others have had positive experiences at MBA, and I think that is great. The mental, and physical, abuse, the stripping down of my self-esteem, the pure negativity of my experience, however, has haunted my for over 15 years, and shaped me as a person for much of those years until I began to work through the issues brought on by MBA.

For a few years after leaving MBA, I reached out to the staff for guidance and support in the very rough transition back into the "real world". On MBA's website, it is stated that every student who leaves MBA has "24 hour" access to staff support, and that the staff make it a "priority" to be available for the students. Not one of my calls were returned, not one of my letters were answered. It has been said by both professionals and fellow students that perhaps the staff were aware and "ashamed" at the way I was treated. That would be fine, except the main focus of the school is to take responsibility for your actions, but it seems that does not apply to the staff who enforce that.

I also do not think it is a coincidence that more than 10 former students, 3 in my own peer group, have committed suicide or fatally overdosed on drugs.

My experience at MBA may be unique, and unlike any other student there. Yet reliving what I have not completely blocked out is incredibly painful; even as I write this, I have a lump in my throat and knots in my stomach. I was young, probably too young to be there. Yet I was accepted, and was subsequently treated as if I was similar to the other students, the average age being 16.

There is more to tell, unfortunately, but I think this entry has made my point sufficiently. I have stayed silent for far too long. I am more than willing to testify, under oath, and tell my story. Someday, I may even write a book, in detail, of my experience there. So yes, I do feel vindicated.

The boarding school was ordered closed by the authorities in 2009

References:
Datasheet about the boarding school at Fornits Home for Wayward Web Fora
The original statement on cafety.youthrights.com

Ethan Schur at the Montana Academy (From:Youthrights.org)

This story was originally written on a webpage created to provide statements for a GAO hearing in 2007. The address is cafety.youthrights.org and it waits for your statement if you believe that your stay at a boarding school included unfair treatment or even abuse. All rights and credits goes to the author Ethan Schur, who posted the original story on cafety.youthrights.org

Montana Academy
I was told I was going to a summer school for one summer. When I arrived at the Montana Academy I was immediately told to remove my clothing and wear a robe so that I could be searched and my items confiscated. I was interred at the Academy for over 14 months.

Isolation rooms
These are rooms with no light and no way to escape. I was locked in this room for hours at a time, given to option to use the restroom, or escape.

Physical labor
Students are forced to saw piles of wood, dig ditches, haul gravel in wheelbarrows, pick up trees and pile rocks.

Physical abuse
Was dragged out into the snow with no shoes on.

Limitation on communication
All calls are listened to and censored, most often with parents. Letters are not allowed to be sent. Letters are censored. Pictures are censored.

Limits on religious freedom
Students are not allowed to pray on holy days and are limited in diet, prayer times, and freedom of religion.

I personally was not allowed to attend the Jewish High Holy Days. When I complained the lead psychologist screamed at me with rage. After this incident he asserted that it was an "echo of my rage" that he was showing and therefore my fault.

I was told on more than one occasion that I would go to hell for being a Jew.

Escape
Students either escaped or attempted to escape on multiple occasions. I attempted to escape in 1998, I fell into a frozen river during the night and was only saved by trekking to a nearby farmhouse with hypothermia and frozen jeans. I was arrested at that location and brought back to the Academy.

There were so many attempted escapes that they enforced new rules where nightwatchmen would physically touch the leg of every student in their beds every few hours.

Drug Abuse
Students would abuse "cocktails" of prescribed medications either orally or by nasal inhalation.
Students would scrape the inside white powder out of light-bulbs and sniff that Students would "huff gasoline" stored in nalgene bottles students would smoke and huff gasoline until they lost control and pours gasoline on themselves.

Attempted Suicide
Multiple students attempted suicide, on one occasion my roommate cut himself very badly, he was punished and it was not until the next day when blood started leaking out of his wrist as he sawed metal rebar "his punishment" that he was evacuated for medical treatment

Educational Consultants
Educational consultants would get benefits for referring students to the Academy. These consultants once, the students are interred, wipe their hands clean of the situation and do not regularly check on the well-being and treatment of their clients

Sex at the Academy
Condoms were forbidden and during sex education I was punished for taking condoms. Students would wrap plastic wrap around themselves with rubber bands and attempt intercourse this way.

Post Academy
Once a student is discharged, the management could care less about that student. The parents are not paying any longer and they are no longer interesting. Students are left wholly unequipped to deal with their non-brainwashed peers. I know Academy graduates that have been to jail for extended periods of time, drug dealers, rampant sex and general disregard for their well-being.

References:
Datasheet about the boarding school at Fornits Home for Wayward Web Fora
The original statement on cafety.youthrights.com

Jonathan Ziv at Elan School (From:Youthrights.org)

This story was originally written on a webpage created to provide statements for a GAO hearing in 2007. The address is cafety.youthrights.org and it waits for your statement if you believe that your stay at a boarding school included unfair treatment or even abuse. All rights and credits goes to the author Jonathan Ziv, who posted the original story on cafety.youthrights.org

The first day I arrived at Elan I walked into a room where a "three house ring" and "general meeting" was being held. A boy's nose was the receiving end of a boxing glove and blood streaming down his face was the result from being in the "Ring". Then about one hundred and fifty students in rows of about five all "got their feelings off", which involves screaming and swearing in a persons face who is deemed to have done something "wrong" in the eyes of the so called "Directors" of the school that is a "General Meeting". The "Directors" keep the momentum of these unbelievable events going. I always wished my parents would make a surprise visit and stumble in on a "General Meeting". What would they think? ("General Meetings" could happen as often as two or more times a day. "Rings" happened occasionally, which consist of a circle of students surrounding the "offender" and the other student who are both wearing boxing gloves. The outside circle is taunting the offender while the two box. When the student gets tired another takes his or her place to be in the ring with the "offender")

The "Directors" are the ones who tightly control each of the students lives. Reading students mail, having phone calls listened to.

At night a student stays awake to guard the dorms of his or her gender. Every ten minutes for eight hours a night a "bed check" is conducted. Each student has their sheets lifted up and a flashlight is shone on the student's body to make sure they don't have any hidden clothing to take with them in the event that they try to run away. Could you imagine having your sheets pulled up every ten minutes for eight hours every night for years? Can you imagine that students are expected, who are in positions of responsibility, to stay up all night and be a "night guard"? And if you fall asleep you will be punished and be made to scrub the floors for a couple of days and have your shoe laces taken away.

"The Corner", which is really a term dubbed for being put into isolation, is used to take a child who is not conforming with Elan out of the population. Another student is then placed with them as a "support person". This support person could be subject to the other student acting out, which could involve attempts at self mutilation, being spat on, sworn at, screamed at, exposed to the students genitals, exposed to them masturbating for shock effect but Elan has a no kick out policy. The "support person" may be expected to physically restrain the acting out student. Sometimes the support person had to hold them down on the floor and have plastic restraints put on the student so his or her hands are behind his or her back. Sometimes this student who is acting out could be in the corner for over a month. Spending his or her days facing the corner of a wall and sleeping on a dingy mattress on the floor. This student could spend a month acting crazy like this and then stop and come out of "the corner" only to be put right back in because he or she starts acting out again. Usually there was at least one student in "the corner" for the two year period I was there. Also if the "support person" may take their eyes off this other student in "the corner" and he or she decides to self mutilate and succeeds then the "support person" will be stripped of his or her position of responsibility and made to scrub floors for a time of maybe two to three days. Can you believe that this is allowed to go on? A fifteen year old child being forced into this responsibility if he or she wants to succeed in Elan? Also that child who is"acting out" does so because he or she is standing up for themselves albeit it is in a damaging fashion but that is how a person may cope when being forced to stay in a place like Elan.

The school curriculum, is fabulous for an unmotivated child, with no tests, exams, or projects it couldn't be better. When parents receive news that their child, who was once possibly failing in school, is now getting great marks they could only think that Elan is doing something right. That is one of the tactics Elan uses to decept parents and school boards but ultimately rob that child of a real education.

Could you imagine not being allowed to go outside when you want? When I was in Elan you pretty much got outside once a week for a gym class. If you were lucky you got to go out for special outings maybe once every month or two but that only happens after about six months, which I would say is about the average length of time it takes for the "brainwashing effect" to be fully active in a student. After that constant fear and guilt consumes a student and everything from brushing up against the opposite sex to taking a minute longer in the shower than is allowed is written down on a piece of paper(referred to in Elan as "copping to your guilt") and given to the powers at be so they know your every move. So basically everything that Elan deems as "wrong" is instilled through feeling immense guilt and usually eventually you fess up. When I was in Elan for about a month I spat in a staff member's coffee but nobody knew except me. A year later I told on myself. By the way Elan is co-ed but no physical or flirty behaviour is allowed. Can you imagine a house full of hormonal teens being watched over so severely that you're scared to look someone of the opposite sex in the eye for too long? I received a " general meeting" for being flirty. I had people scream and swear in my face for ten minutes because I am human. This is where the ultimate control happens and the "Directors" or staff were ruthless. They would scream and swear in your face and make you feel absolutely hopeless. They controlled the level of fear among the students.

References:
Datasheet about the boarding school at Fornits Home for Wayward Web Fora
The original statement on cafety.youthrights.com