Hey everyone, I wrote this essay(describing an obstacle in my life) for my first assignment in English Composition last week. I don't want to waste anyone's time, but I believe it's an interesting read for both young people and parents.
The days were long and hot as the eight of us trekked through the desert of Loa, Utah. All girls ages 14-17, we had been strangers before meeting there, only to be bound by our desolate surroundings. We carried backpacks which consisted of our food, clothing, and sleeping bags tightly wrapped in an old blue tarp with thin rope we called ?cordage.? On each of our shoulders hung another bag holding three water bottles. While hiking through sagebrush and an abundance of sand, we were forced to overcome the elements. Unfortunately, this was not a voluntary experience for any of us. Because of unhealthy choices we had made at home such as skipping school, running away, promiscuity, drug use, and/or depression among others, we were sent to this Wilderness Treatment Program to get ?our heads screwed on straight.? Our every move was under close watch by the young staff who had rotating weekly shifts. They brought me a letter from my parents shortly before I was to complete the program, however it wasn?t filled with congratulations or proud acknowledgements. I got to the second line before my eyes blurred ??however, we don?t think it?s a good idea for you to come home to your old environment??
I learned in that moment how each of us perceives information can be as unique as our ever-changing personalities. Words may try to convey a certain perspective of the author, but whoever reads, or has to live with them will assign an independent meaning that is all their own. When I read that one phrase, it marked the end of my adolescent life. The vibrant flame that burned inside of me was somehow snuffed, only to be replaced with a dense emptiness that has changed my life forever. What?s ironic is that the same letter represented, to my parents, the beginning of the rest of my life. They dreamed of getting their untainted, good little girl back someday instead of the budding independent woman I was becoming.
As we get older, the concept of ?living in the now? slowly becomes just another cliché. Moving to the forefront are telephone, medical, auto, and home payments. We prepare to be prepared, and our energy is not spent on inner reflection, but rather completing outward tasks. I cannot blame my parents for wanting to guarantee me a successful future. They saw me slipping away from them; I had dropped out of high school and ran away from home, eager to test my capabilities as a young adult out in the world. Good parents will sacrifice anything for their children, but sometimes there comes a point where it seems there?s nothing more they can do. Miraculously, as my parents soon learned, there was still an option they had not explored. Did you know there are thousands of for-profit residential treatment programs in the US alone, housing tens of thousands of troubled youths each year? This multibillion-dollar industry would not exist if its founders hadn?t known the value of good advertising. They pitch their ?schools? as a last resort to save out-of-control children, which is exactly what their consumers need. Parents feel so scared and powerless, that when they get that glossy brochure depicting happy, laughing children, it?s as if someone finally provided an answer. In desperation to prepare them for adulthood, parents fail to examine how, and if, the methods used to ?save? their kids actually work.
When you arrive at Wilderness, you are immediately stripped, made to squat naked, and issued your makeshift pack. Upon joining the group, you are isolated and told you are unable to speak, or be spoken to. This is called the ?Mouse? phase, which lasts for the first week. After trailing the group on 5-10 mile daily hikes, and watching everyone eat hot food around the fire at night as you sit in the distance picking trail mix from a Ziploc bag, it is quite a privilege to finally be able to speak with them. This is how the program breaks you. Any defiance or passive aggressive behavior is immediately recognized and punished through isolation from the group, not getting to eat hot food, losing the privilege to speak, or worse, tacking another week onto your time. The only way to make it is to comply with the program- do, say, and feel what it tells you. It is mandatory to write in your journal every day, but I learned fast that this was so the staff could read it and use any personal or self-incriminating information against you as a reminder for why you?re there. During my two-month sentence, and especially after I received that letter from my parents, I lost touch with reality. My mind clung to every memory from home because it was all I had ever known.
At this point, unlike the adults in my life, I could not go on hopefully with my days, feeling relieved, and wait for the positive results the program promised to deliver. The world I grew up in, for the short sixteen years I was in it, was quickly snatched away as if I were a baby playing with a small object. Everything I held in high esteem was denounced; thrown out like trash. Every feeling I felt, other than guilt, which was welcomed in the program, I was told was a farce. This is what ultimately broke my spirit. I lost everything, but this must have seemed a tiny sacrifice to my parents compared to what I would gain from the experience. I never talk about this because part of me thinks ?I just need to man-up, take it, and stop complaining. No one cares about my true feelings, which are invalid, so why attempt to express them? How can I put into words something I endured, but still barely comprehend??
I learned to internalize every emotion for the following 14 months, awaiting my release, and could only think about one thing: HOME. I filled the pages of countless notebooks ?talking? to my friends who were not there, reminiscing about the places we went or the people we had known. That may sound crazy, but it?s what actually helped me stay sane. When I did eventually reenter society it was extremely difficult to cope with my newfound fear of failure. I was elated to come home, only to find that my friends were now just acquaintances, the places I held dear to my heart were no longer mine, and the life I missed so badly was gone forever. The desire I used to wake up with- to live, experience, and enjoy life- wasn?t there and I have spent the past six years searching for it.
Though existence at these treatment centers may seem grim, there are many different perspectives with which to look at this experience. I can only hope that my kids don?t have a tendency to push boundaries beyond recognition; afraid to think that someday those sales pitches employed by the Teen Help Industry will speak directly to me. I know teenagers make bad choices and many mistakes, but isn?t this how we really grow emotionally and socially? Will I have enough faith to let my kids find and learn for themselves what life holds during those developmentally critical years, or will I see long-term behavior modification as the only way to save them from themselves? The answers to these questions, only time can tell.
I am able to look back now and understand the pain and fear my actions were causing my parents. Their letters, though sometimes impersonal and distant, expressed the many concerns they had, but more importantly that their unwavering love for me drove them to this decision. What haunts me, though, is the thought of how thousands of young people are, as I write this, feeling the way I felt with no outlet. Will any of our parents ever try to understand? Some kids, due to the heavy-duty mind-fuck, come out praising the program/s for their own survival spouting the popular mantra they had come to believe: ?I would?ve been dead, insane, or in jail.? However there are no clinical studies proving such ?treatment? is beneficial in the long run. Even though I found new vices and people to run with, I picked up right where I left off over a year earlier. Instead of using the ?tools? the program gave me, or listening to my ?inner child,? I was determined to get the old Sarah back- the girl who laughed out loud, always quick with a witty response and a warm smile. I didn?t find her, but I have done my best to move on, and indeed, all has worked out.
This is probably the most potent lesson I learned from all of this: that life will go on, and if I keep dwelling on the past, it will surely pass me by. It is so important to get out there and take risks, make mistakes, and learn from them no matter if you?re a little girl with braces or an old man with a cane. Some people believe that ?what doesn?t kill us makes us stronger,? and with these words my mind has been able to put a somewhat positive spin on the whole grueling experience; reducing my extreme emotional despair to merely a stepping stone to greater things. I still struggle with self-confidence issues and the fear of rejection, but I have been able to come to grips with what happened and why. I found an Internet forum in 2003 which receives posts from other ?survivors? who are dedicated to discussing the negative impacts we still grapple with, but were told was all ?in our heads.? Being able to read their renditions and relate to them has helped me tremendously, for aren?t we all in need of acceptance and support, or a place where we fit in?
I believe that my parents found the support they needed so desperately the day they received that small glossy brochure. ?Unable to cope with the increasing demands of growing up, many students suffer from depression, anxiety, school and social difficulties, low self-esteem and lack of motivation,? the program claimed that ?a sequential phase plan supporting solid progress through an expanding range of options encourages students to become more trustworthy, constructive, energetic and responsible in thinking and behavior.? A parent of practically any teen could relate and find truth in those words, don?t you think? The advertisement will not relay to parents the additional trauma that may compound any underlying issues, because it compromises the glowing image they are selling. Just like if my parents had written ?Sarah, we are so proud of your efforts to improve yourself, and are looking forward to giving it another chance with you,? I may have been given just a little hope. Words are powerful enough to break a single heart, or enlighten an entire race; so we should be careful how we use them. Never blindly accept what you read or hear because whether you agree or disagree, there is always another side to the story.
I couldn't include all the details for it was to only be 3-4 pages, but I tried to express to my audience what this experience felt like, and the subsequent reflections I have been able to make.
Thanks to everyone here at Fornits!!!!!!!!!!!
P.S. I hope no one minds that I used much of the vocabulary I picked up here at Fornits. I felt it would help me get my point across better.
