“I was 16 years old and the year was 2004. I had a boyfriend 8 years older than me who was my on/off again abuser (even after this experience). I had run away from home and had recently returned. School was out, so I got a job. A few weeks later, three months before my 17th birthday, I was taken. I woke up to two strangers in my bedroom, telling me to get up, get dressed, and go with them. I initially thought I was being kidnapped. I wasn’t allowed to see or talk to my parents or even get dressed unsupervised. I was driven from Virginia Beach to Newport News, VA and handcuffed as we walked through the airport. They refused to tell me where I was going. We landed in Atlanta, GA and drove for nearly 2 hours before stopping at what looked like an old motel. Darrington Academy, in Blue Ridge, Georgia.
I’ve witnessed both girls and boys being physically abused. I witnessed a fully grown 230lb+ man tackle a girl no more than 110lbs. I was smacked at least once that I can remember. I both witnessed and experienced medical abuse, and denial of medical treatment. I both witnessed and experienced verbal abuse more times than I can count.
All the rules were over the top. I couldn’t speak to my parents or anyone on the phone until I reached a certain level (this could take months). We wrote letters only to our parents, once a week, and those were monitored. Don’t dare ask to go home, there would be consequences. We could lose points, or also be sent to a room to copy page after page of the rule book. I’ve spent days at a time in this room, not being able to speak to anyone or spend any time outside except to walk back to my room. We had curtains instead of bathroom doors. We had to count loudly when we had to use the toilet. Until a certain level, you couldn’t wear your hair down, wear anything but fake birkenstock clogs, no shaving, no looking at the opposite sex, walking in line structure, pivoting at corners, forced to eat at least 75% of you meal, not able to talk to anyone without permission. We could say “bless you”, “thank you”, “you’re welcome”, and “excuse me” – and we used those phrases like a different language. I think we would have all gone mad if we hadn’t.
Schooling was on a computer; a christian based homeschool program. It was awful and there was rarely anyone there to help you, unless your parents paid extra for a “tutor”. I was 18 years old when I returned home, and nothing I did at that “school” transferred over, so I was forced to get my GED.
The whole “school” is centered around a behaviour modification program. It was like the shittiest version of therapy. We would sit in a circle and talk about issues, and then our peers would give us “feedback”, except most of the time it was hurtful and that seemed to be encouraged. There was a lot of emotional abuse in the program. I was pinned against my biological father; I had to reject him altogether to be granted permission to move on in my program (today he’s one of my best friends, and we talk almost every day). Everything negative that happened in my life was my fault. I remember being taught about accountability, and now that I’m in my 30s, I know it wasn’t taught correctly. I was taught that even if something wasn’t my fault in any way, it was still my fault. That really messed with me for years, and fed into allowing abuse to continue in my life.
We had seminars we had to attend, where we would be forced to speak about anything and everything we didn’t want to discuss. At one point I had nothing left to say, and I was forced to lie. I told the person who spoke to my parents it was a lie, and was then forced to regurgitate this lie (as truth) to my parents when I next saw them- I have yet to be able to bring myself to tell my parents this life altering information was not true. We were forced to bang towels wrapped in duct tape on the floor for what felt like forever, while being screamed at, some of it was quite degrading. There were certain songs played during these seminars, and some of these songs still trigger me today.
I left three months after I turned 18. I had been there for 1.5 years. When I returned home, I was afraid to turn on the TV without permission, use the phone, enter the kitchen, or walk outside. I got a job at a pizza shop a few days after getting home, it was hard at first. I felt like I had been out of the world for years. My ex found me and I immediately fell back into my old habits of sneaking to speak to him. I was so afraid of everything, and he offered me to live with him and not feel that way anymore. I was afraid to even tell my parents, so I moved out while they were gone at work. The abuse started back up again almost instantly, he knew I was too afraid to go back to them. This wasn’t my last abusive relationship. I made poor choice after poor choice, getting myself in very bad situations, just as I did before Darrington. I was confused for years. I didn’t understand how the trauma affected me. I have a hard time trusting and a hard time believing I’m worthy of the positive relationships I have. To this day, I still have nightmares. The location haunts me. I was in and out of therapy for years, and was diagnosed with PTSD. I’ve tried not thinking about it, but every once in a while I hear a song, see a food that I was forced to eat and hated, or hear a certain word, and I’m there again or I hear the banging of the towels on the gym floor.
Thankfully the “school” I went to was closed some years ago, and last year I found out it was bought and reopened as a motel. I decided to take my husband there and try and get some sort of closure. The most powerful moment for me was walking around areas I was never allowed or areas where I was never able to walk freely. We stayed the night and had dinner with two former staff members that actually treated us well. It was both heartbreaking and nice. But I’m still not “healed” or “over it”, I don’t think I ever will be.
If you’re a parent of a troubled teen, DO NOT SEND YOUR KIDS TO ONE OF THESE PROGRAMS. Don’t send your kids away, not to a “school” that controls so much. If you feel forced into it, go there and speak to students away from any staff members. Give those kids an opportunity to be honest with you. We were trained to lie to parents, because otherwise there would be consequences and we all just wanted to leave.”
-Rachel