“On September 5, 2005, when I was just 17 years old, I was kidnapped. At around 10:30pm, two escorts, hired by my parents, came into my home, handcuffed me, and threw me into the back of a car. The doors were child locked so I couldn’t try to run and the handcuffs were not removed until we were more than 20 minutes from my home. A few hours later, we arrived at Academy at Ivy Ridge. I was given a thin mattress, my blanket and pillow, and a spot on the floor in the middle of a hallway to sleep. I awoke the next morning to a rush of panicked girls standing in a single file line. None of them spoke and it didn’t take me long to figure out this was anything but a typical school. I was sexually and emotionally abused for the next thirteen months.
A routine part of the intake process was to strip search each student. I was required to remove my clothes and hand them over to a staff member to inspect. While naked I had to do jumping jacks, bend over, and squat and cough. Facility wide strip searches were also a common practice, especially when something as simple as a pen went missing.
A few weeks after I arrived, I was called down to “night showers” for the first time. This time was meant to be for girls who had missed their daily group shower time for whatever reason. Two staff members stood outside my shower and told me how dirty and disgusting I was. Sometimes they would encourage other students to get involved. More than once they came into the shower with me to “teach me” how to wash. This went on at least once a month, sometimes multiple times in the same week, the entire time I was there.
We were always under a strict code of silence. Any conversation we were allowed with each other was closely monitored. Communication outside those walls was limited to immediate family only. We were given one hour every Sunday during which we were required to write a letter home. If we said anything that even hinted at abuse our letters would be edited or sometimes not even sent. Twice a week I’d get letters from my parents and sisters and almost all of them had parts blacked out with permanent marker so I couldn’t read it.
Success in the program was also dependent on your willingness to break others down. Attack Therapy was a regular practice. Rules were vague and designed so that it was virtually impossible to go an entire day without breaking at least one. Punishment ranged from losing a few “points,” to copying pages of the rule book for hours, or even spending days sitting in a closet alone. All punishment resulted in you having to stay longer, so no one reported anything they witnessed or stood up for girls getting singled out for more abuse. There was always the fear you would be next.
At one point, about 3 months into my program, I cut my wrist. My hope was that it would get me out of there, even if only for a short time, where I could get real help. Instead, I landed myself a month on “suicide watch” where I wasn’t allowed to wear shoes, I had to sleep in the hallway again, and was constantly watched (even while showering or using the toilet). When I slept my hands had to be where they could be seen at all times. If I moved in my sleep someone would wake me up to remind me I could not have my hands under the blanket. When an actual therapist determined I was not a danger to myself I was taken off “suicide watch”. When they found out, two staff members stood right in front of me saying they had no clue how that happened and I’d be right back on it before morning.
I was forced to look people in the eyes and tell them I wanted them to die. I had dozens of people say the same to me. I had to tell people I had just been introduced to minutes earlier that they weren’t important enough for me to remember their name. I had adults tell me they believed there truly was no hope for me, that they had given up, and I would be dead within 3 months of leaving the program. I was raped prior to being sent to the program. While there I had to tell that story in detail more than a few times and was even forced to reenact it. I had to take accountability for my trauma and was accused of “playing the victim” if I didn’t.
I was deprived of adequate nutrition, water, sleep, and bathroom breaks. These are torture tactics used to break people down that are still being used today to destroy the lives of children. Programs like Academy at Ivy Ridge are still operating all over the country today and are entirely unregulated. I am speaking out for all the teens in places like this right now who can’t. If my story can bring just one child home or make one parent think twice about sending their child away then I need to tell it.
It feels important for me to add that my family chose to send me away because they were desperate. I needed help they couldn’t provide so they turned to people who told them they could. My parents did not know what was happening and were told up front if I said anything I was lying in an attempt to manipulate so I could go home. They were lied to on a weekly basis and brainwashed, just as I was, and for that I cannot fault them. “