“My name is Alexis. I am sharing my story with hopes of helping expose the truth behind the troubled teen industry (TTI).
My residency in TTI spans over two years, August 1997- June 1999, with two separate trips. My family was promised help for my outlandish behavior. I was, by any standard, a troubled teen. I lived through many years of bad choices.
By the time I was 14, I was on probation through the juvenile court, and was still acting out. My family was desperate! Looking at all different kinds of facilities, my mom found an ad in the back of a magazine and off we went, shortly after my 16th birthday.
My first trip, my mom took me to Utah and admitted me to a hospital where I spent 7 days before being transferred to the WWASP facility. One of the many issues with these programs is that parents sign away all rights and know almost nothing of the truth of what goes on.
We survivors have come forward to tell the truth about the inhumane and harmful treatment and practices at these facilities, with hopes that no more children will suffer. These programs use extreme abuse as their core tools – victim shaming, psychological torture, sexual abuse, physical torture – and non-evidence-based treatments to break children down.
I spent the first nine months at CCM (a WWASP run facility) in isolation off and on. Sometimes it was 3 days for not eating fast enough, or 5 days for talking to the wrong person, or often much longer stays. I would go days or weeks without a single moment outside, weeks without any real human interaction. Often, even when not in the isolation room, I was on “staff buddy,” as they called it. You were expected to silently shadow a staff member. You couldn’t talk or look at anyone.
They used all sorts of different tactics to break down your psyche. I remember always being watched when using the bathroom and never being allowed to shower alone when in isolation. Having the lights off at night was considered a privilege. The isolation room was an approximately 10×10 foot space with old blue carpet in the floors and cinderblock walls. There was a popcorn ceiling, and I remember spending so many days and nights counting the specs.
One of my worst experiences in isolation was when I was accused of being the carrier of lice. A recurring issue in these facilities, but it was only treated with shampoo, never proper combing or follow up. After months of ongoing problems, I was targeted as the “root of the issue.” I remember staff coming in the first day telling me they were going to cut my hair off. Then the next day, again more staff. Then again, and again, I just fought with everything I had. Finally, day nine, 10 staff members came in. They held me limb from limb, my stomach, my head, and one person held my hair back and cut the ponytail as short as they could. I think this was the point which I started to break.
8 squares of toilet paper. 7 minutes to eat 80% of your tray. Two fingers between hangers and towel neatly tucked over the dirty clothes basket. Ask to cross any door frame. These are just some of the regular tasks that must be completed, or consequences would ensue. They all just became a daily routine. All ultimately another method of torture used to break us down and continuing the pressure for full submission.
I believe it was shortly after the lice incident that I was sent on a wilderness hike. It was my first time leaving the facility in months. I later learned from my mom they apparently called it a trust walk. We were told it was 27 miles total. Consisted of rappelling down a cliff side, miles of unpredictable terrain, trust walked across a large tree over a canyon where you had to hold the therapist’s hand or you could die — all a part of the program. There was even a section when you swam in ice cold water through a cave about 8 feet long. The last mile was straight up, a 90° angle free climb, exhausted. I was sick the whole day, vomiting. I had been in isolation for a long time, so I was not healthy at all. In the facility, the regular diet is 4,500 calories a day. In my first six months, I gained 80 pounds. Between the diet and zero exercise, the wilderness walk was definitely another low.
That was the issue with the program, with all of these programs still today – there’s no evidence-based treatment! They use unnecessary restraints and psychological torture to accomplish their goal.
Another recurring nightmare comes from the “seminars.” There are multiple seminars required to advance in the program. The seminar facilitators use unimaginable techniques, including forced trauma reenactments, to continue to ensure a breakdown of the psyche all while using the attendees against each other.
I am here with hopes to help shine light on the troubled teen industry and the legislation that lacks in these facilities.
My second trip to Utah I was escorted. Which ultimately means my family paid thousands of dollars to have me ripped out of my bed by strangers in the middle of the night, shackled and cuffed, and dragged through the airport. After going back the second time, I spent four more months before I turned 18. They threatened to send me to Jamaica or Samoa where they said they could keep me until I was 21 because they confiscated our passports. Instead, I was released the day before my 18th birthday. All I had was my uniform, a $20 bill, and a bus ticket to get home.
At this point, my family believed the program facilitators and thought I was dangerous. They were told to stay away from me. I was disowned, homeless, and alone. I hopped on the bus home, and 36 hours later (the day after my birthday) I arrived back in my hometown.
It took me 20 years to really start to understand any of the things that happened to me when I lived in Utah. Now I am able to have healthy relationships. I have wonderful friends, an amazing husband, beautiful children, and I’m able to live up the street from my mom and my sister. I spend most of my time in the community helping to advocate for all children. In retrospect, no one would’ve imagined my progress, especially despite all they tried to break in Utah.
I’m here, #breakingcodesilence, hoping no more families will suffer! Please join me to help reform this industry.”
-Alexis