evenlesssleep at Ironwood in Maine

This testimony was found on Reddit. All rights goes to the original author known as evenlesssleep.

Here is a quick summary off the top of my head, of what I believe are the worst things I experienced at Ironwood RTC (also affectionately known as "Ironhood" by a select few residents). I have tried posting something like this to the subreddit before, however I wasn't happy with the way I formatted the information. This post is now here to stay. I can guarantee that any information I have regarding Ironwood is more transparent than the information Ironwood's secretaries are willing to release, or even speak on. So please, feel free to ask if you have any questions.

If you are reading this because you are considering placing your child at Ironwood due to concerns about your child's mental well-being, please be aware that Ironwood is not licensed by the Department of Health and Human Services.

In 2006, Ironwood (IW) was founded with help by former employees from Turn-about Ranch (Wayne Stinson and Teresa Shinedling). I was a relatively new resident there, arriving in Winter of 2007 and "graduating" from the highest level of the program in 2008. I was escorted to this program from my home in FL, three weeks after I turned sixteen years old for the reason being that I was diagnosed with major depressive disorder. I spent eight months in this program.

CONCERNING PRIVACY

I was required to write in a journal, which was explained to me as "a private resource that nobody will read" --Bonnie Rector. We were expected to write in these journals every night. Not writing your journal page for the night would result in a punishment. As a collective, our journals were systematically read by staff, who then used the contents of our journals against us during one of what we referred to as "intimidation sessions".

CONCERNING FREE SPEECH

My rights to communication were revoked for days at a time, under their rules of the "Code of Silence" (COS). I was not allowed to talk, acknowledge, laugh, make eye contact, write notes, or use sign language to communicate with other residents of the program, for things as simple as asking what their favorite musical group was. I simply cannot begin to count the amount of times I was put on COS. I recall one time I was put on COS for a day or two by Brian York, because I dared to utter the words "Jesus Christ" in a conversation that was within earshot of him. There was also another time where I asked a new resident what kind of music he had liked, while we did dishes, and Lisa Wing gave me a COS for the rest of the day.

CONCERNING MAIL CENSORSHIP

My outgoing mail was censored. We were forced to write "e-letters" home every Wednesday. These were written on A4 printing paper, which were never placed in envelopes, but instead handed straight to a designated staff member, who then scanned these documents using a computer and sent the resulting electronic file to my parents' e-mail. We were instructed that the e-letters had to be of a positive nature, regardless of you were actually feeling that day, otherwise we were to be punished. I recall a point in which I was sitting in a corner, with tears of sadness falling from my eyes, re-writing my e-letter home because the one I had originally written to my parents wasn't "satisfactory enough" per Erin Wilbur and Gordon Thayer's expectations.

I had a peer of mine confide in me that they were told by staff members they were "writing too many letters home".

Another peer of mine actually had one of his sealed envelope letters opened by a staff member named D'arcy, who read it over and told him that he didn't write enough in the letter to his parents, despite the fact that he was going on his "home visit" to see his parents the very next day. He was at the highest level in the program when this happened. Despicable.

My very first day at IW, I was forced to write a letter home to my parents while on "Impact". Impact was where you went if you didn't subscribe to the program in full. It was a 4x4 foot circle of rocks in the woods, that you were not allowed to leave. You are given a fire to keep warm. You are not allowed to let the fire go out, even if the wood is burning wet, and the wind is blowing smoke in your face for hours. If you left the circle, your time in the circle started over. You were not allowed to communicate with other residents (COS) while on Impact. You were not allowed to sleep or lay down while on Impact. Its purpose was to allow a person reflect on why they were in that situation, in addition to detoxifying new residents. Anyway, I must have written a four page letter while in that circle. When I was finished, a staff member named Greg Cooley read my letter and gave me an extra day in isolation because the contents of my letter were negative. My first four days at this program were spent in isolation.

CONCERNING TRANSGRESSIONS

I was unreasonably punished for my actions.

I was sent to "Impact" again for 3 days, after asking Aimee LeClerc if I could go outside to watch the rest of the boy's group play basketball. This was a day or two prior to Thanksgiving, marking my second week at Ironwood. This means I had literally spent 50% of my first two weeks in this program in their freeze your ass version of solitary.

A couple of months later, I had belched a single time during lunch, and was given twelve demerits for doing so (they were trying to also make laughing at farts a punishable offense, I kid you not.). This translated to me being expected to perform twelve additional hours of labor, in addition to a demerit I had already "earned". I was forced to work a total of thirteen hours on our "free" day, Sunday.
At one point, I had attempted to file a complaint to staff that certain residents were physically assaulting me when staff was not on the floor. I was punished to "Work Impact", along with the entire boy's group, to fix ruts in the road at the main entrance in order to "protect my identity". I was forced to work with the perpetrators, and they were able to easily deduce that I was the reason why they were being punished.

CONCERNING EMOTIONAL NEGLECT AND APPROPRIATE ACCESS TO MENTAL HEALTH SERVICES

I witnessed a young man in a wheelchair harm himself by dumping his body into a fire pit. He was within 30 yards of me, as we were both on "Impact", otherwise known as isolation. I can still feel the cold and sharp sting of adrenaline I felt at that moment. I can still hear the thumping of his body after he fell. I still hear the crackling of his orange jumpsuit as he writhed in the fire. I was unable to go anywhere while this happened. I was forced to stay in that stone circle, to watch and to listen. I asked to speak to a licensed therapist within the hour after I had witnessed that, and I was denied. It wasn't because these events unfolded at an unreasonable hour either--it was broad daylight.
That was not an isolated incident either. There were plenty of other times where I had asked for access to a licensed therapist while in isolation while under incredible emotional distress, I had been refused services.

Why was I refused adequate access to mental health services? This event haunts me to this day.

CONCERNING PROPER CARE OF FOOD PREPARATION AND CONSUMPTION

Food was used as a punishment. We were forced to consume bulgur wheat in it's raw and uncut form, which made the entire boy's lodge ill. I was forced to eat avocado slices that had been left to ferment on a table for three hours while we were in school session, which led to my becoming painfully ill as my insides rejected it. We were forced to consume highly unpalatable food that staff were unwilling to even taste. I wonder if there are any of my peers out there that still remember "Ashtray Chili", and "Formaldehyde Noodles".

CONCERNING MEDICAL NECESSITIES

My mother and father made clear to me that they paid money for IW to have my teeth examined. At not one point during my stay there, was I brought to a dental clinic to see this procedure through.
What happened? Where is that money now?

CONCERNING SLEEP

In the lower levels of this program, only an army blanket and sleeping bag were all we were given to sleep with (we slept on particle board with no pillows or mattresses). We were told that if we were caught using the army blanket given to us as a pillow, we would be punished. I slept in this fashion for over three months before I "earned" the right to use a pillow.

CONCERNING VERBAL ABUSE

I was verbally abused by staff members. I quote,
"You look like the type of person that abuses animals." --Aimee Leclerc "You're an asshole." --Erin Wilbur

CONCERNING PROPAGANDA

We were expected to be columnists for "The Treatment Times", a summary of our activities at IW. I was under the impression that this information we had authored was sent to our parents back at home through the same means as our "e-letters". I was shocked to find out that they were using my writings, including images of me, without permission-- as a propaganda tool for themselves on the IW website. It took over a month, and multiple phone calls in order for them to comply with my demand that they were not allowed to use my image, nor my written works without my exclusive permissions.

CONCERNING CODE VIOLATIONS

There was a ladder inside of the main lodge of the level 1's and 2's, that was built out of scrapped tree trunks the level 1's and 2's had found in the woods surrounding Ironwood. This ladder was used for access to a loft which held supplies. When code inspection day came, I was instructed along with another resident to carry that very ladder out of the lodge, and to bury it under foliage behind the level 1's and 2's facility. This same ladder was shortly brought back into use inside the lodge after the inspection officials had left.
Why couldn't IW afford to buy/install a ladder that was up to code? Shameful.

I wish I was making this up, however everything that I have written here is true, and is just the tip of the iceberg. I will try to update this as much as I humanly can, as my memories are innumerable. Anyone with a logical explanation for how any of this is an effective treatment for major depressive disorder, I urge you to please leave an answer, as I have not found one yet. I, like many of you out there, fear that I now suffer from post-traumatic stress as a result of being sent to this type of facility. I fear that I will never be granted closure regarding this experience, due to the moral apathy and inaction of Marion and Rod Rodrigue, the original founders. Cheers.


Sources:

• The original testimony on Reddit
• Factsheet about the facility (Fornits Wiki)

MM at New Leaf Academy

This testimony was found on LD resources. All rights go to the original author.

I went to New Leaf sometime in early 2000, with emotional problems and ADHD. I believe I was at the Rock Mesa location, I never did get used to the different location names. I remember they were planning to build a soccer field. I am commenting here because I want parents to know that NLA is NOT right for every child. I will NEVER forget the way I was treated there. I was not a girl with a violent history, drug use or stealing. I was emotional, moody and prone to verbal outbursts and antagonistic, but never violent. I was treated as if I had been. I was accused of stealing, no matter how many times I tried to insist that the baskets were next to each other. I was called a terrorist during an activity that asked for a sad picture, I drew Columbine as it was something that effected me personally. At this point I was not allowed to read anything that they didn’t pick out for me, I was not allowed to write stories. At all. I was isolated from the girls and they became distrusting of me, with no attempts by counselors to clear my name of what had been said or ease the tension. I was pulled out of the program, but the absolute isolation I had gone through severely effected the way I interacted with people. Even now, at 23 I struggle with self worth and trust of authority.

The GOOD aspects of NLA
There were positives. We had to do kickboxing and plenty of physical activity, and while it wasn’t strict at NLA I did learn to structure my day better. Making my bed, cooking my own meals and keeping fit were important.

Friendship: I was not allowed to talk to the girls once I left, I understand that. But I won’t forget the friends I made either. Annie, Ashley Class and Chloe.

Creative: I don’t know if this has changed but one counselor would have art time, teaching us how to draw simple but fun animals. The schooling was a little wobbly because of the grade mix but they did made it fun.

Reward System: Necklace with charms. It really did make me proud to earn a new charm. I felt I was growing, it was simple but cute. When I attended they also gave you a rabbit at a certain level, I don’t know if they do that anymore but it was a great empathy builder. You learned to care and be responsible for another living thing, an excellent way to form bonds.

I’ll end it with this. NLA has been purchased, and may not be the same as when I attended but if you are a parent with an emotional child or in need a place, think CAREFULLY before you place them here.

New Leaf Academy was purchased by Aspen Education Group but later sold back to the founders when they could not make a business for profit out of it.


Sources:

• The original testimony (ldresources.org)
• Factsheet about the School (Fornits Wiki)

Nick at the Family Foundation School (From: school-survival.net)

This testmony was found on the website school-survival.net. All rights goes to the original author known as Nick

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This story began as a letter I'm writing to a lawyer in Orange County, New York who was interested in what the Family Foundation School (that's where I went) was actually like, since lots of kids from Orange County get sent there. I decided to post it on the website too. This is the story that inspired the Misled Youth Network...

I went to the Family Foundation School between March of 2002 to July 2003. I was sent there because I was cutting school, and was often depressed and antisocial. My mom had sent my sister there a year or so earlier because she was doing a lot of drugs and addicted to heroin. My sister was improving there, and the Family School advertises that it works for any "troubled teen," drug addict or not, so my mom figured it would straighten me out as well. The Family School was like a sadistic Orwellian version of Alcoholics Anonymous. The AA "big book" somewhere states that it is nearly impossible for an alcoholic to get sober without first "hitting bottom," or reaching a state of complete misery and helplessness. So the Family School had the idea that they would force kids to hit bottom, and from there be able to "treat" them. The method by which they forced kids to hit bottom was a system of humiliating punishments called "sanctions".

One of the most important elements of how the Family School functioned was they pitted the students against each other. A student couldn't just follow the rules there to stay out of trouble, he or she had to enforce them as well. Often, a student would get in more trouble for not confronting another student on breaking a rule than the one who actually broke the rule in the first place. This created three classes of students- defiant, compliant and "senior members." Defiant students weren't even allowed to talk, and if they did they would be ignored and later punished. Once they agreed to follow the rules they were labeled as "compliant," which was still bad because it meant that you didn't actually believe in the principles of the school. There were four ways of getting out of the school- running away, being transfered to a psyche-ward or a wilderness program, waiting until you turned 18, because they can't legally hold you once you're considered an "adult", or, finally, "graduating the program." Running away was difficult since students are under constant surveillance and once you were caught they would take your shoes away. Getting yourself sent someplace else was also difficult- no one was ever "kicked-out" of the Family School. The parents had to decide whether or not to keep the kid there, and the school usually manipulated the parents to keep the kid there longer. Many kids left when they turned eighteen, but that's a long wait for most of the kids there. On top of all that, about a quarter of the kids at the School were their as a court mandation, meaning that if they left before they graduated they would go to either Juvenile Detention or, if they were 18, prison. So a lot of students were forced to "graduate the program," meaning the kids would force the rules on you even more than the staff.

I tend to find it's pretty difficult to explain to people what it was like at the Family School, since it was a bit like a cult and difficult for an outsider to comprehend. The best I can do is write a day-in-the-life essay, explaining things as they happen. So here is a day out of the 492 days I spent there-

I wake up at 6:15, have twenty-five minutes to make my bed and get ready for the day, then have 15 minutes to clean the dorm. Then I walk up a hill for forty-five minutes of Catholic, Protestant or Jewish chapel service, in which participation is forced. I go down to the main house. I am on "exile," meaning I have to stand in a broom closet when I'm not working or in class. I have 20 minutes to eat a bowl of cold cream of wheat. Most of the kids are not allowed to make eye contact with me, except for my "shadow," who brings me to every class and is responsible for making sure I don't break any rules or try to run away. I am only allowed to sit ten minutes out of every hour.

After breakfast I have work-sanction, meaning I have been taken out of my classes to work all day long. This consists of washing the dishes from breakfast, folding laundry, and either lifting buckets of rocks back and forth in the summer or shoveling snow back and forth in the winter. It's a cold day in March, but luckily I spend the morning doing laundry. At noon I go back to the main house for lunch. Someone says grace, I get another bowl of cold cream of wheat in the broom closet. The alternative meal sanction is supposed to consist of cream of wheat for breakfast, and dry tuna fish for lunch and dinner. Once, when I was new, I said "that's not so bad, I like Tuna," so they made it so I only got cream of wheat.

At lunch three or four students are chosen to stands up in front of the "Family" (a group of about 30 kids and a bunch of staff members randomly put together who eat all their meals together and basically spend all their time together when they aren't in class) and are scrupulously analyzed and humiliated.

I am on a particular sanction called a "Thought Card," in which I have to write down every major thought I have during the day (particularly the bad ones) on index cards and then I have to stand up and read it in front of forty people. Needless to say, everyone has all kinds of fucked-up thoughts enter their head out of nowhere every day, and teenagers seem to have particularly bad ones (especially by the Family School's standards).

The Family School knows this and therefore expects it. I can't just make up fake thoughts, I'd be standing in front of everyone being called a liar for the next forty-five minutes and given some awful sanction. So I am forced to tell a group of about forty people my most private thoughts.

This is how the Thought Card Sanction works- So I have just finished reading all my thoughts. The students are picking apart every one of them, the staff are cursing at me, calling me some of the worst things I have ever been called. I am completely exposed. Any fear that I've ever had about what people think of me is confirmed. After a couple of weeks on this sanction I will become so worn down, so convinced that I am are a horrible human being, that I won't ever want to talk again. They give me a bible and a rosary to numb my thoughts and I gladly accept them. I am so disgusted with myself and with how judgmental everyone else is that I get tricked into seeing God as the only wholesome thing there is. I have just moved from the First Step (admitting that I am powerless over my own fucked-up thoughts) to the Second Step (I have come to believe that a Power greater than myself can restore me to sanity). In the process I have come to hate myself and humanity so much that I will probably spend many years suicidal and friendless. This is a mild but archetypal example of how the Family School works. It forces you through the steps, brainwashes you into thinking you're a totally hopeless fuck-up, and surrounds you with so many prayers and hymns that you eventually become a mindless, submissive zombie chanting the Serenity Prayer.

So anyway, after I have been completely humiliated by my thought card, I go back to the broom closet and stand there another half hour or so, while other kids are being brought up to the end of the table, yelled at, and more often than not, made to either sit or stand in a corner.

Lunch ends, my shadow takes me back to the work-sanction crew. Today we are picking rocks out of the lawn in front of the school and putting them in buckets. There's freezing rain and sleet, the lawn is slippery, muddy, and has a thin sheet of ice over it. We sit in silence, using our bare hands, scraping them on rocks and ice. This lasts five hours.

It's dinner time. Cold cream of wheat in the broom closet. Aside from being on the Thought Card Sanction for every lunch I am on a Cheerleader sanction at dinner. Apparently, I've been seeming a little bit glum lately (I wonder why), so they give me sanctions like this to force me to act happy. My legs are killing me from standing all day, my hands feel like they've been torn to shreds, I'm starving but I feel like if I smell another bowl of cream of wheat I'll vomit, I want to go home so, so badly. I dance around with tears welling up in my eyes and I choke out a rhyme while a group of forty people laugh hysterically at me. They make me do it a second time. I know that if I do this right I might be able to get regular food tomorrow. The staff tells me it's not sincere, and I have to eat cream of wheat tomorrow. I go back to the broom closet. I spend the rest of the night memorizing sections out of the AA book. Eventually we have chapel, and finally I get to go back to sleep. Tomorrow will be the same exact thing.

I lived like this for months. Everyday was the same, bleak, agonizing experience. I was constantly trying to stay at a level where they would at least feed me regular meals. I spent a month in the broom closet, and about five months all together in the corner. I was on work-sanction for about three and a half months total, which meant I nearly failed an entire semester of school. I was on every sanction they had, many times, and they even created new sanctions for me. Why did I get in so much trouble? I had no drug problems, never got in trouble for lying, never complained, got mostly all A's and B's (except on Work-Sanction) wasn't violent, or a brat. I got in trouble because I was "too quiet." I have always been a quiet person. They didn't know how to deal with this, so they decided to treat it as a behavioral problem, that I was "passively defiant" or "refusing to talk."

I recently discovered that one student jumped off a balcony there, cracked his head open and died shortly after I left. I wasn't there, but I can only imagine why this happened. The school does not take into account the effects of brain chemistry or trauma as a reason for kids having problems. They call things like that lies and excuses. They believe that everything a kid does wrong is due to one of the seven deadly sins. While I was there, not once did they bring up the fact that I have an anxiety disorder. They said I didn't talk to people because I was lazy and defiant.And they would not stop punishing me until I could interact with the rest of the kids there. And obviously, the more they cursed me out and punished me, the less I wanted to talk to them. So they put me in a corner, or in a broom closet, isolating me further. They have some weird fucking logic at that school. Then they were punishing me for being depressed. There were no other reasons to punish me, so they just decided to fuck with me for being quiet and sad, until I became more quiet and more sad than ever, and then my dad took me out.

I was put in a wilderness program in Utah called Second Nature. This program was difficult, it mostly consisted of hiking up huge mountains everyday and survival stuff, mixed with a little therapy once a week. I was so happy to be out of the Family School that I didn't mind a bit. I did so well in my wilderness program that I got to go to a fairly regular boarding school in Arizona.

Then, around Christmas 2003 I was finally allowed to go home for the first time in two years. To make a long story short, I ran away.

Since I got out I reunited with my old girlfriend and we have been working on creating alternatives to institutions like the Family Foundation School. We believe (in very simplified terms) in focusing on the positive aspects of youth culture to inspire kids to educate themselves rather than trying to completely isolate them from their environment because it is a "bad influence." We've got a website (website not online anymore) that's partially up and we are compiling a book.

As for myself, the Family School has crippled my social ability, a hundred times worse than I was at the time that I was sent away. It's really difficult for me to talk to other people, so I pretty much stopped trying. For a while I was really depressed about this, but I'm mostly used to it by now. I started studying art pretty intensively, and for the past year or so that's occupied most of my time. I'm not really that good yet, but I'm way better than I used to be and I'm learning a lot about all sorts of things that I would have never imagined myself being interested in.*

The boarding school closed recently. The management tried to relaunce it under a new name but the reputation based on testimonies from former students didn't make it possible.
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Sources:

• The original testimony (school-survival.net)
• Factsheet about the school (Fornits wiki)