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106
The Troubled Teen Industry / Ivy Ridge news artical
« on: May 02, 2005, 07:29:00 PM »
Web gives Ivy Ridge Net gains and losses
Complaints, praise follow school in cyberspace
by Chris Garifo, Times Albany Correspondent
First published: Sunday, May 1, 2005

An important tool the Academy at Ivy Ridge in Ogdensburg has used to recruit students has in turn become a weapon its foes are using to try to close the behavioral modification program for troubled teens.

The Internet is sprinkled with sites where anguished parents of troubled teens can find programs such as Ivy Ridge, which serves 400 students.

Just as prominent, however, are sites filled with allegations of physical and emotional abuse, all created by former clients of Ivy Ridge and its support and programming organization, the Utah-based World Wide Association of Specialty Programs and Schools, that are filled with allegations of physical and emotional abuse.

"The Internet, any time you're in a controversial business, is a double-edged sword," said Kenneth E. Kay, WWASPS president. "It can assist you in getting positive word out and in promotion. The problem is, it's unmonitored and anybody can send unsubstantiated allegations."

The allegations have brought Ivy Ridge inquiries from New York Attorney General Eliot L. Spitzer and the state Office of Children and Family Services, who are examining the school's academic and development programs.

On Web sites criticizing Ivy Ridge, the majority of allegations include:

?  Staff punching students, throwing them to the floor or forcing them to remain sitting in excruciating pain without moving for hours on end.

?  Depriving students of medical care.

?  Providing students with an inadequate amount of food.

?  Staff verbally berating students to force them into responding negatively, then severely punishing them no matter how slight the response.

?  Staff refusing to let students use the bathroom to the point where the children would soil themselves.

Ivy Ridge Director Jason G. Finlinson said the allegations are false, but something he and his staff just have to deal with.

"That's part of the job," he said. "It's tough, but we do it and we do the best we can with what we do."

A change of heart

Negative information on the Internet caused one parent, Sally I. Winter, to pull her 17-year-old son, Christopher H. Harris, out of Ivy Ridge, where she and her ex-husband had sent him in the mistaken belief it was a drug rehabilitation center.

After her son's trouble with the law, a counselor advised Mrs. Winter to contact the Teen Help hot line, which also has a Web site with links to WWASPS-affiliated schools, including Ivy Ridge.

Teen Help recommended Ivy Ridge, she said.

"If you don't get him in this program, he will die within a week," Mrs. Winter said the person on the hotline told her.

After her husband took their son to Ivy Ridge, Mrs. Winter, who said she holds a master's degree in special education, began searching the Internet for more information about the school. That's where she found the complaints and allegations. She admitted she never had looked at Ivy Ridge's Web sites.

As a result, she traveled to Ogdensburg and demanded to see her son, who in March had written her that his roommate ran around their room and the halls naked, that two teens living in his "family" had oral sex and that Ivy Ridge staff would not let him see a dentist about his aching teeth.

Upon seeing her son, Mrs. Winter promptly removed him from Ivy Ridge.

Mr. Harris's removal April 5 was just one of a number of problems Ivy Ridge and WWASPS have had to deal with this year.

Reports of abuse at the school led to a visit in February by workers from the Office of Children and Family Services. The state attorney general's office at around the same time subpoenaed records from the school, purportedly to determine what kind of school it is and whether it improperly claimed to be a diploma-writing institution.

"We welcome people to visit the school. We want people to know what we do at Ivy Ridge," Mr. Finlinson said. "We've invited people for three years to visit, and all of a sudden they come in the same week. That's their prerogative."

As a result of the state attorney general's inquiry, the Boise, Idaho-based Northwest Association of Accredited Schools suspended Ivy Ridge's accreditation. Ivy Ridge's Web site now includes a statement that it is not accredited and that it is not "licensed, certified or registered in any way with the New York State Department of Education."

The site also says that Ivy Ridge is working with the state Education Department to get permission to offer state-approved diplomas. Until the attorney general's office inquiry, the site had said Ivy Ridge offered general and college prep diplomas.

Another WWASPS-affiliated school, Majestic Ranch in northern Utah, is being sued in U.S. District Court in Salt Lake City by a California mother accusing the boarding school of physically and emotionally abusing her son while he was a student there.

On April 20, Rep. George Miller, D-Calif., introduced the "End Institutional Abuse Against Children Act," whose provisions include the establishment of federal civil and criminal penalties for abusing children in residential treatment programs, and expanded federal regulatory authority over programs operated overseas by U.S. companies. A WWASPS-affiliated school is located in Jamaica, and WWASPS-associated schools in Mexico, Costa Rica and the Czech Republic reportedly were closed down by those governments because of allegations of physical abuse, a claim Mr. Kay denies.

As a result of allegations against WWASPS schools, Mr. Miller last year wrote a letter to then-U.S. Attorney General John Ashcroft asking for a federal investigation of WWASPS and its affiliated schools. Mr. Ashcroft rejected the request, claiming his department lacked jurisdiction.

Organized opposition

Almost since the day it opened in January 2002, the school on Route 37 and its staff have faced allegations that it or WWASPS have mentally and physically abused children in their care.

"They're not true," Mr. Finlinson said of the allegations. "We have schoolteachers, we have professional therapists who work at the school, there are nurses, and part of their responsibilities are to report abuse if they see it."

The allegations are more than just a result of a few unhappy parents or disgruntled former students, Mr. Finlinson said.

"I definitely believe there is an organized effort to discredit the school," he said.

Mr. Finlinson blames most of Ivy Ridge's problems on Susan L. Scheff, founder and president of Parents Universal Resources Experts, an organization that helps parents find appropriate programs for their troubled children.

"I've never met the lady," Mr. Finlinson said. "I think she's a competitor and she wants our business, so the way to take our business is to make us look as bad as she can."

Ms. Scheff denies the charge.

"To be a competitor I'd have to own programs," she said. "Am I competing with them? No. Am I trying to put them out of business for that? No."

Ms. Scheff, originally from Pleasant Valley but now living in Florida, said that she was a follower of WWASPS, even enrolling her daughter in one of the schools that uses its program, Carolina Springs Academy near Abbeville, S.C. She said she believed WWASPS and its associated schools were a perfect opportunity to help her troubled child.

"WWASPS is all over," she said. "You do an Internet search and they're everywhere, in different colors or different schemes."

After attending a few required parental seminars, Ms. Scheff realized she may have made a mistake and, shortly afterward, withdrew her daughter from Carolina Springs. The girl eventually began making allegations about abuses at the school.

As a result, Ms. Scheff decided to provide parents a source of information about alternative programs for their children and about programs and schools to avoid, especially WWASPS and its affiliated schools.

WWASPS sued her for defamation and other claims in federal District Court in Salt Lake City, but a 12-person jury rejected those claims.

"I'm the scapegoat for them to hide behind while they abuse children," Ms. Scheff said. "They put so much power into me and I don't know why. I'm just trying to create parent awareness."

Ms. Scheff says there are too many former students accusing WWASPS of abuse to ignore the claims.

"It's not just one child," she said. "It's the consistency that WWASPS has. They've all been at different WWASPS programs at different times, but they still have the same stories."

A litany of allegations

Former students, many of whom have been in contact with anti-WWASPS Web sites and have put at least some of their experiences on the Internet, provide eerily similar descriptions of students who are constantly berated, screamed at, ill-fed, choked and thrown to the ground as part of the institution's behavior modification program, even though girls and boys routinely are kept separate and many of the students have never met.

Marc F. Shea, 18, Winchester, Mass., who spent seven months at Ivy Ridge and admits the program did get him to change his way of life, said more students have been harmed than helped by the school.

"A lot turn out worse than they did before," he said. "You have 13- or 14-year-old kids there who would play too many video games, and run into me, who did drugs and stuff."

Mr. Shea said he saw several children who were physically restrained by staff members and forced to the floor, for the slightest rule infractions.

"People think it's like a prep school; it's not," he said. "If you went around Ivy Ridge and asked kids if they'd rather be in jail, I bet 90 to 95 percent would rather have been in jail. At least you can read newspapers or see your family or talk on the phone."

Another punishment occurred in what was once called "worksheets" but is now referred to as study hall, Mr. Shea said.

Students are forced to sit upright in a straight-backed chair - feet together, knees a fist's width apart and back held 3 inches from the back of the chair - for hours, depending on the severity of the infraction, Mr. Shea said.

"You would just sit in this room all day long, in structure for hours and hours," he said.

Students didn't get enough food and often would try to steal food from each other, Mr. Shea said.

Nathan Lovelady, whose mother pulled him out of Ivy Ridge, said in a written statement that he was physically restrained his first day at Ivy Ridge. His infraction: He flinched while being given a haircut.

Students often were refused bathroom privileges, causing many to soil themselves, Mr. Lovelady said.

"Dozens of times I witnessed staff members denying students use of the bathroom, and abusing students (including me) that included punching students in the testicles, punching students in the chest, and restraining students for no apparent reason whatsoever," he wrote.

Mr. Lovelady said he saw staff members and upper-level students, who have more authority and benefits than incoming students, slam other children's faces into the walls.

"Nobody should ever have to suffer that," he said.

Mr. Lovelady's mother, Regina L. Bollman, said she had her first inkling that she might have made a mistake when she dropped her son off at Ivy Ridge and saw the staff.

"They had Tasers hooked onto their belts," she said in a telephone interview.

Ms. Bollman began checking Ivy Ridge's Internet bulletin board to find out how other parents felt.

"A lot of people were feeling the same way and convincing themselves that it was the best thing and their child otherwise would be dead," she said. "A lot of them, their kids had worse troubles than Nathan, like drugs or living out on the street. Nathan wasn't a street kid."

Over time, her concerns grew to the point that she decided to remove her son from the school, driving nine hours from her Detroit home to get the boy. The final straw was when, after he had been there three weeks, she called Ivy Ridge to talk to him but was told that the teen had lost all of his accrued points, which are needed to move forward in the program and get any privileges, because he had been caught masturbating.

"I hung up the phone and said, 'you know what, they obviously have no privacy there and that's just weird,'" Ms. Bollman said. "It's normal for a teenager to do that."

Rather than drive straight back home with her son, they stopped at a hotel and that's where Ms. Bollman discovered the bruises on the boy's body. He also had lost 25 pounds in the short time he'd been at Ivy Ridge, she said.

"He had obviously been repeatedly punched in the chest," Ms. Bollman said. "He said they did that to him for smiling or looking out of line."

The two went to the state police post in Ogdensburg to file a complaint. In his statement to state police, Mr. Lovelady described what had happened to him and to other students, whom he named, while at Ivy Ridge.

The state police would not comment about its investigation of Ivy Ridge and refused to release copies of any complaints or reports filed by any former students or their parents, citing privacy prohibitions.

After Mr. Lovelady returned home, he was diagnosed with post traumatic stress disorder, Ms. Bollman said.

"It took a good year for him to get back to normal behavior for a teenager, and another year to get back on track at school," she said.

"There are sadists in that place," she said.

'Bullies and sadists'

Behavior modification boarding schools can be breeding grounds for sadists, said Alexia Parks, an expert on the subject and author of "An American Gulag: Secret P.O.W. Camps for Teens."

"The more rural and remote some of these schools are, the more you find bullies and sadists, because there's no oversight," she said.

Ms. Parks said she gets contacted almost daily by former students of these schools or their parents.

Part of the problem is children who are emotionally troubled or are having problems at home or school are placed in remote facilities, in other states or even overseas, where they are surrounded by strangers, setting up a situation perfect for violence, Ms. Parks said.

"The children have no voice," she said. "The children disappear; one day they're here and the next day nobody knows where they went."

Ms. Parks referred to the occasional practice of removing students from their homes, often late at night and in handcuffs.

Two men working for just such a service, Utah-based Teen Escort, faced criminal charges last year while transporting a student to Ivy Ridge. State authorities believe the business is owned and operated by WWASPS
- Robert B. Lichfield, who purchased Mater Dei College from the Diocese of Ogdensubrg is from La Verkin, Utah, where the company is based - but Mr. Kay denied such a connection.

The men were charged with misdemeanor assault and felony imprisonment after they beat the boy while he was handcuffed. The boy, while not in the handcuffs, grabbed the car's steering wheel and caused it to crash.

The men pleaded guilty to misdemeanor harassment and were fined.

"Enormous violence is visited on children at the hands of strangers," Ms. Parks said.

Once at the school, some children are placed in isolation - with no contact from family or friends - for enough time that, once released, they will do whatever they can to prevent being put back, she said.

Ivy Ridge gives parents a 60- or 90-day satisfaction guarantee that allows them to return their child to the school if he or she begins to exhibit improper behavior again.

Despite the abuse allegations, schools such as Ivy Ridge are flourishing because they are huge moneymakers, Ms. Parks said.

"The New York Times estimates it's a $5 billion industry, and it's growing," she said. "It's the second-fastest growth industry next to the growth of prisons."

Voices of support

Though the Internet provides plenty of places to find allegations against Ivy Ridge and WWASPS, Web sites and other postings also abound about their success and the benefit they offer to parents who are at their wits' end trying to deal with troubled teens.

On Ivy Ridge's Web site are dozens of testimonial letters from parents praising the school and thanking its staff for helping their children turn their lives around.

One such couple, Douglas A. and Sharon S. Ahrenberg, Chesapeake, Va., continue to have nothing but praise for what Ivy Ridge accomplished with their son, now 17-year-old Bryant C., though they pulled him from the program early.

"He got educated there and got a good understanding of what we have in our house," Mr. Ahrenberg said. "We've had zero problems since he got back and no slippage of any kind. We still recommend people to go there and still will."

The younger Mr. Ahrenberg said Ivy Ridge did "set me straight."

However, he admitted that staff members choked him and threw him to the floor as part of that effort, something he had not told his father, who was listening to the interview on another line. The staff member who choked him was fired for it, the teen said.

"There were a lot of kids who were pushed around and stuff and definitely treated unfairly and unprofessionally," he said. "One kid was slammed on a table and the table collapsed."

Though he said he'd never been restrained, he did see it happen to other students.

"Some restraining was called for; the kids would flip out," the younger Mr. Ahrenberg said, adding that he saw a staff member hit a student in the face.

When he tried to write to his parents about the incident, staff members, including Mr. Finlinson, admonished him about it, he said.

"They had me in a meeting with Mr. Finlinson and my family rep and they said nothing happened and to write my parents back and tell them nothing happened," the teen said.

While many on the Ivy Ridge staff are great people, Bryant Ahrenberg said, others "are horrible people."

Despite what he'd seen and heard, however, the boy said he thought the program was valuable.

"I'm not fearful for my life from these staff members," he said. "All the staff members who did something wrong, they were fired, they didn't get a second chance."

Mr. Ahrenberg was surprised by his son's revelations.

"I don't know how it's happening," he said. "Slamming kids into tables, that's something I'd want to hear about."

Mrs. Ahrenberg, though she did not listen in on the interview, called shortly after it was concluded to express her concern, not about what may have happened to her son or other students at Ivy Ridge, but about what effect such revelations might have on the school.

"That school is so darn good, it scares me that it might be closed down and other kids not be able to benefit from it," she said.

Mr. Kay rejects allegations that students are systematically abused at Ivy Ridge or any other WWASPS-related school.

"When all the truth comes out, these people look at the claims and review their public school records under law and look at their psychological examinations and reports, and look at their activities and their lying over the years, when it comes out there'll be nothing to it," he said. He said the organization and its schools never have lost a lawsuit alleging such abuse.

"The sad thing is a lot of people misrepresent the truth," Mr. Finlinson said. "People believe the allegations rather than the people doing it. Everyone associated with me are good people and they do a great job, but it doesn't seem like people believe us on that."

107
The Troubled Teen Industry / Utah-based group under fire
« on: April 21, 2005, 11:52:00 AM »
http://deseretnews.com/dn/view/0,1249,600128053,00.html


Utah-based group under fire

Legislation targets association of schools for troubled youths
Copyright 2005 Deseret Morning News

By Amy Joi Bryson
Deseret Morning News

      A Utah-based organization affiliated with schools for troubled youths is stirring controversy in at least three states and is the target of congressional legislation unveiled Wednesday.
      At issue are the persistent allegations of child abuse and claims of questionable business practices surrounding the World Wide Association of Speciality Schools (WWASPS) founded by Robert Lichfield of La Verkin, Washington County.
      Lichfield is one of three directors on the board of WWASPS, which officially claims affiliation with seven schools, including facilities in New York, South Carolina, Montana, Utah and Jamaica.
      The organization uses behavior modification tactics to curb rebellious behavior in kids and often establishes schools in rural, out-of-the-way areas to deter notions of running away. Monthly tuition is several thousand dollars, on top of admission fees.
      The allegations of abuse and questions about the facilities' credentials ? all of which WWASPS' president Ken Kay denies or says are overblown ? have sparked investigations in numerous states, prompted closures of some facilities and led Rep. George Miller, D-Calif., Wednesday to call for federal legislation invoking more oversight.
      It was Miller, the senior Democrat on the Education and Workforce Committee, who demanded in 2003 that then-Attorney General John Ashcroft investigate WWASPS.
      The request, made again last year, never gained much traction, so Miller is now pushing for passage of the "End Institutional Abuse Against Children Act," which among other things, would establish federal civil and criminal penalties for abuse against children in residential treatment programs and expand federal regulatory authority to overseas programs operated by U.S. companies.
      Miller's legislation is just but one of many recent actions involving WWASPS around the country.
      In New York, the organization's Academy at Ivy Ridge had its accreditation suspended last week in the wake of a New York Attorney General's Office investigation that is probing the school's licensing and educational credentials.
      A subpoena was issued in February gathering numerous documents for an ongoing probe ? an investigation Kay characterizes as a "lack of communication" between Ivy Ridge and state officials.
      Whatever the case, Ivy Ridge's accreditation was suspended by the Northwest Association of Accredited Schools in Boise and the school put a disclaimer on its Web site, listing its lack of accreditation and detailing its negotiations with state educational officials to offer sanctioned diplomas.
      The disclaimer comes despite the school's existence since 2002, when it opened just outside of Ogdenburg near the Canadian border and since then has promoted two forms of diplomas as an academic offering.
      Kay said the problem is unfortunate because the students' education is being sacrificed simply due to "some bureaucratic jousting going on."
      The Northwest Association, the regional accrediting agency for Utah and several other Western states, suspended Ivy Ridge's accreditation until the issue is clarified, Kay said.
      "They ran gun-shy because they got a threat from the attorney general in New York."
      For its part, the AG's office is remaining mum about the extent of the probe, but officials believe several procedural violations may come into play, including the school's failure to properly operate with a certificate of approval issued by the state Department of Education.
      The paperwork problems come on top of complaints by parents who have claimed their children are abused.
      Kay said claims frequently surface because of the nature of the schools' population. "They make up stories, they fabricate; you are dealing with a difficult part of society."
      New York officials did find enough evidence to substantiate criminal charges against two men contracted to transport a teenager to Ivy Ridge last year.
      WWASPS says parents routinely use such escort services ? in this case Teen Escort from La Verkin ? to transport an unwilling child to a facility.
      New York officials, at the time, believed WWASPS and Teen Escort to be one and the same. WWASPS denies any connection.
      The men were accused of beating the boy while handcuffed in the car after the teenager ? who was then free of restraints ? grabbed the steering wheel and caused the vehicle to crash.
      Initially charged with misdemeanor assault and felony imprisonment, the two men reached a plea agreement in which they admitted guilt to misdemeanor harassment and were fined.
      The New York problems with accreditation are continuing to unfold, even while Missouri officials firmly slammed the door on a proposal to establish a boarding school in the town of Boonville.
      Kay said the bid to open a school for troubled youth at the site of the former Kemper Military School was completely unrelated to any WWASPS venture, even though it was founder Lichfield who cut the check for the earnest money deposit and a former WWASPS employee who was going to lease the property from Lichfield and run the facility.
      "That is what is just the amazing thing because WWASPS had nothing to do with Boonville, nothing to do with Kemper and nothing to do with Mr. Hinton," Kay said, noting that Lichfield became involved by virtue of his real estate investment company, Golden Pond, and there was never any intention of WWASPS' involvement.
      Skeptics, including police supervisors who issued a strongly worded memo advising against the sale, believed otherwise.
      "Our personal opinion would be to deny any sale to any person associated with WWASP or its affiliates" until an intensive background check could be completed, the memo reads.
      One newspaper editorialized against the venture, asking Boonville to think twice before getting stung by "WWASP" and advising that the city should tell Lichfield to take his checkbook and go home.
      Enough controversy, including records supplied to officials that allegedly documented restraints used against children such as handcuffs, pepper spray and duct tape, led the Boonville City Council on Monday to unanimously reject Lichfield's offer.
      Closer to home, in Washington County, Lichfield has filed a lawsuit against Shelby Earnshaw, her husband and her International Survivors Action Committee (ISAC).
      The organization, which acts as a teen help industry watchdog, compiles complaints and documents related to residential treatment centers. WWASPS has frequently been in its bull's-eye.
      The suit alleges the Earnshaws and ISAC have defamed Lichfield, invaded his privacy and caused intentional interference with "prospective economic advantage."
      Earnshaw, reached at her offices in Virginia, said the suit will not deter ISAC's mission but admits it does have her perplexed.
      "I've never even gotten a parking ticket," she said, adding his claim she spread untruths about Lichfield to Utah and Missouri officials is not true.
      ISAC does assert at least one other troubled facility is actually a WWASPS affiliate in the conglomerate that bears Lichfield's stamp.
      It is an allegation that Kay challenges anyone to prove.
      "We are absolutely not affiliated."
      But ISAC contends Bethel Boys Academy in Mississippi, most recently going by the name of Eagle Point Christian Academy, has strings to WWASPS. A riot occurred there this month that left seven teenagers injured.
      Most recently in Utah, a children's advocacy group called for an investigation last month into WWASPS' Randolph facility ? Majestic Ranch ? alleging abuse and unsanitary conditions.
      State child welfare officials, who were chastised in the group's report, subsequently said they found nothing that rose to the level of abuse or neglect. On Wednesday, however, a mother filed a federal lawsuit against WWASPS alleging that her son had been battered at the ranch.
[ This Message was edited by: BuzzKill on 2005-04-21 08:56 ]

108
Feed Your Head / Fortunate Son / re issued
« on: April 14, 2005, 06:27:00 PM »
Fortunate Son; George W. Bush and The Making Of An American President

http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?Vi ... eName=WD1V


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/ ... 68-4920841
 

Anyone actually read it?

109
Larry Elder is paying for a child to go to Spring Creek Lodge.

http://larryelder.warnerbros.com/recapTue.html

Send e-mails about this topic to?..

http://larryelder.warnerbros.com/letter ... ntact.html

The parents Tuesday, April 5th  
"Parents Concerned Over Their Promiscuous Teens' Behavior"
 
on today?s show feel that they?ve exhausted all options and outlets for guiding and disciplining their children to no avail. They seek Larry?s help in redirecting their children?s lives, which have spun out of control. Learn more about their stories below:

         

15-year-old Charlie has been suspended from school countless times and admits to having serious authority issues. His mother Suzanne says that Charlie is constantly physically and verbally abusing her and that no discipline techniques seem to stop his behavior. Their family has even moved to a new town to give Charlie a fresh start in school, but matters have not improved. As a means of much-needed help, Larry offered to send Charlie immediately to Spring Creek Lodge Academy, a ?tough love? school in Montana.

         

From possession of weapon to sexual harassment to hate crimes, 13-year-old Taylor has already amassed a sizable record of bad behavior. However, Taylor says he knows where his acting out tendencies come from ? watching his parents. He says that his parents? physical fighting in the past and Tony?s corporal punishment have driven him to act violently. Pulling from his own past experience of being estranged from his father, Larry advised Taylor to let bygones be bygones and try to resolve his issues with his father to avoid complete estrangement in the future.

         

In this ?Listen to Your Elder? segment, parents Bob and Linda expressed concern over their 27-year-old son Bobby, who is still living at home and is unemployed. Bobby says the main reason for staying at home is that he is concerned for Linda, whom he says has a drinking problem. He also says that the job market is so bad that two years of looking for employment have been fruitless. In Larry?s verdict, he advised that Bobby treat looking for a job as a job and spend eight hours a day doing whatever it takes to get one. He also suggested Linda start attending 12-step meetings to address her problem with alcohol.

Quick Clicks

It?s not too late to help your teen achieve a better life. Visit our Advice Archive for resources on teen addiction, gang involvement and sexual activity.

For more information on Spring Creek Lodge Academy, visit:
http://www.lifelineshotline.com




 
 
   
 
 
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111
The Troubled Teen Industry / some history on psychic homicide
« on: March 17, 2005, 10:38:00 AM »
http://www.peacereporter.net/dettaglio_ ... idart=1755




 invia pagina  
 
   
   
   
United States - 15.3.2005
Diplomatic immunity
Doubts about the past of Mel Sembler, the chief US diplomat in Rome
   
   
   
 
 
Before the tragic epilogue of the kidnapping of Giuliana Sgrena brought his name into press reports for his efforts at mediation between Rome and Washington,  Mel  Sembler, US Ambassador to Italy, was virtually unknown in America. But among the few who already knew him, many have been seeking to put him and his wife, Betty, behind bars for years. For seventeen years, the couple founded and ran ?Straight, Inc.? a network of group homes for drug addicts,  whose severe methods have led to numerous legal and civil suits on the part of ex-patients.

Having grown wealthy as a builder of shopping centers, the seventy-five year old ex-ambassador to Australia and Nauru was a major fundraiser for the Republican Party. While his wife took an important role in the Florida gubernatorial campaigns for the president?s brother, Jeb Bush, Sembler brought tens of millions of dollars of contributions into the two electoral campaigns of George W. His efforts were awarded in 2001 with the nomination to become ambassador to Italy.

In his official biography, the ambassador?s long experience with ?Straight, Inc.? is described as a great success story. ?During its 17 years of existence, Straight successfully graduated more than 12,000 young people nationwide from its remarkable program,? reads the State Department site. But Wes Fager, a computer scientist who entrusted his fifteen-year-old son to ?Straight? in Virginia in 1989,  couldn?t agree less. ?Approximately 50,000 children passed through those group homes. Many still have mental problems, and over forty have committed suicide. Some of them are among the 12,000 Sembler considers ?graduated? drug-free. They are successful graduates, but they?re dead.? Fager has dedicated himself to uncovering the truth about ?Straight,? and created the website ?The Straights?. After five months at the center, his son was never the same again. ?He had nervous breakdowns. I believe Straight greatly contributed to that. One of his therapists told me, ?Your son might have had problems anyway, but Straight pushed him over the edge?.?

Taking inspiration from theories fashionable at the time and particularly from Chinese methods of thought control, Straight?s philosophy was simple: to cure an addict, you must first destroy his personality and then create a new one. During their stay at Straight homes, the young patients were forbidden to  see their parents and were not allowed to leave the center. ?No one could get out until they ?confessed? their problems in the way Straight wanted,? Fager explains. ?Because of this, the ?cure? always lasted longer than they said it would when it began. And the costs kept going  up. Above the 12,000 dollars a year I paid at the beginning, they kept demanding more money. But they had no expenses: there were no doctors, the centers were basicly empty warehouses, and the children slept and ate in the houses of families outside the center.?

According to dozens of charges brought to court, in Sembler?s centers the patients were beaten, deprived of food, and forced to sit in the same position all day. There are instances of some clients being made to sit in their own feces,  urine, and vomit. Some girls were even forced to sit in their own menstrual blood. Older members were encouraged to spit in newer members? faces, and patients were compelled to recount their most humiliating sexual experiences. Superiors ordered senior patients to abuse the newcomers. ?Straight does something very close to psychic homicide,? says Marge Robertson, former head of the local section of the American Civil Liberties Union, speaking about the Cincinnati center. ?We?re talking about the same abuses and torture that provoked scandal at Abu Ghraib,? Fager insists, ?At the Straight centers, that conduct was the norm.?

Some of the charges of mistreatment lead to convictions and the paying out of large settlements. One after another, the Straight group homes finally closed in 1993. Some of the directors subsequently opened new centers with different names but similar methods, but it was the end of the largest drug rehabilitation program ever founded in  the United States, a business that generated almost 100 million dollars. Although its ending was inglorious, Sembler ? already nominated ambassador  to Australia by Bush père ? escaped virtually untouched. Shopping centers built by the Mel Sembler Company continued to sprout up across the United States, especially in Florida. One of them, in Saint Petersburg, was accused of racism by the local Afroamerican community because of the methods used by security guards to target black youths and because, out of 450 employees, only one was black.

For the most part, Sembler is known only to those who have come into contact with his group homes and shopping centers. Except for a brief appearance during the Sgrena affair, he makes little news, just another one of the many US ambassadors throughout the world. But recently he achieved a distinction which earned him an article in the Washington Post, when he bought a stupendous Roman building for the embassy for the expansion of diplomatic offices. The ambassador chose to name the newly-acquired building after himself: the Mel Sembler Building. For the first time in American history, a diplomatic building has been named after a sitting ambassador.

112
Who Am I Discovery/Whitmore / some history on psychic homicide
« on: March 17, 2005, 10:37:00 AM »
http://www.peacereporter.net/dettaglio_ ... idart=1755




 invia pagina  
 
   
   
   
United States - 15.3.2005
Diplomatic immunity
Doubts about the past of Mel Sembler, the chief US diplomat in Rome
   
   
   
 
 
Before the tragic epilogue of the kidnapping of Giuliana Sgrena brought his name into press reports for his efforts at mediation between Rome and Washington,  Mel  Sembler, US Ambassador to Italy, was virtually unknown in America. But among the few who already knew him, many have been seeking to put him and his wife, Betty, behind bars for years. For seventeen years, the couple founded and ran ?Straight, Inc.? a network of group homes for drug addicts,  whose severe methods have led to numerous legal and civil suits on the part of ex-patients.

Having grown wealthy as a builder of shopping centers, the seventy-five year old ex-ambassador to Australia and Nauru was a major fundraiser for the Republican Party. While his wife took an important role in the Florida gubernatorial campaigns for the president?s brother, Jeb Bush, Sembler brought tens of millions of dollars of contributions into the two electoral campaigns of George W. His efforts were awarded in 2001 with the nomination to become ambassador to Italy.

In his official biography, the ambassador?s long experience with ?Straight, Inc.? is described as a great success story. ?During its 17 years of existence, Straight successfully graduated more than 12,000 young people nationwide from its remarkable program,? reads the State Department site. But Wes Fager, a computer scientist who entrusted his fifteen-year-old son to ?Straight? in Virginia in 1989,  couldn?t agree less. ?Approximately 50,000 children passed through those group homes. Many still have mental problems, and over forty have committed suicide. Some of them are among the 12,000 Sembler considers ?graduated? drug-free. They are successful graduates, but they?re dead.? Fager has dedicated himself to uncovering the truth about ?Straight,? and created the website ?The Straights?. After five months at the center, his son was never the same again. ?He had nervous breakdowns. I believe Straight greatly contributed to that. One of his therapists told me, ?Your son might have had problems anyway, but Straight pushed him over the edge?.?

Taking inspiration from theories fashionable at the time and particularly from Chinese methods of thought control, Straight?s philosophy was simple: to cure an addict, you must first destroy his personality and then create a new one. During their stay at Straight homes, the young patients were forbidden to  see their parents and were not allowed to leave the center. ?No one could get out until they ?confessed? their problems in the way Straight wanted,? Fager explains. ?Because of this, the ?cure? always lasted longer than they said it would when it began. And the costs kept going  up. Above the 12,000 dollars a year I paid at the beginning, they kept demanding more money. But they had no expenses: there were no doctors, the centers were basicly empty warehouses, and the children slept and ate in the houses of families outside the center.?

According to dozens of charges brought to court, in Sembler?s centers the patients were beaten, deprived of food, and forced to sit in the same position all day. There are instances of some clients being made to sit in their own feces,  urine, and vomit. Some girls were even forced to sit in their own menstrual blood. Older members were encouraged to spit in newer members? faces, and patients were compelled to recount their most humiliating sexual experiences. Superiors ordered senior patients to abuse the newcomers. ?Straight does something very close to psychic homicide,? says Marge Robertson, former head of the local section of the American Civil Liberties Union, speaking about the Cincinnati center. ?We?re talking about the same abuses and torture that provoked scandal at Abu Ghraib,? Fager insists, ?At the Straight centers, that conduct was the norm.?

Some of the charges of mistreatment lead to convictions and the paying out of large settlements. One after another, the Straight group homes finally closed in 1993. Some of the directors subsequently opened new centers with different names but similar methods, but it was the end of the largest drug rehabilitation program ever founded in  the United States, a business that generated almost 100 million dollars. Although its ending was inglorious, Sembler ? already nominated ambassador  to Australia by Bush père ? escaped virtually untouched. Shopping centers built by the Mel Sembler Company continued to sprout up across the United States, especially in Florida. One of them, in Saint Petersburg, was accused of racism by the local Afroamerican community because of the methods used by security guards to target black youths and because, out of 450 employees, only one was black.

For the most part, Sembler is known only to those who have come into contact with his group homes and shopping centers. Except for a brief appearance during the Sgrena affair, he makes little news, just another one of the many US ambassadors throughout the world. But recently he achieved a distinction which earned him an article in the Washington Post, when he bought a stupendous Roman building for the embassy for the expansion of diplomatic offices. The ambassador chose to name the newly-acquired building after himself: the Mel Sembler Building. For the first time in American history, a diplomatic building has been named after a sitting ambassador.

113
Feed Your Head / Angela's Ashes
« on: March 14, 2005, 10:19:00 PM »
For the goodness thats in it
and Gaelic hearts




http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/ ... 68-4920841

 
Editorial Reviews

"When I look back on my childhood I wonder how I managed to survive at all. It was, of course, a miserable childhood: the happy childhood is hardly worth your while. Worse than the ordinary miserable childhood is the miserable Irish childhood, and worse yet is the miserable Irish Catholic childhood."
So begins the luminous memoir of Frank McCourt, born in Depression-era Brooklyn to recent Irish immigrants and raised in the slums of Limerick, Ireland. Frank's mother, Angela, has no money to feed the children since Frank's father, Malachy, rarely works, and when he does he drinks his wages. Yet Malachy -- exasperating, irresponsible and beguiling -- does nurture in Frank an appetite for the one thing he can provide: a story. Frank lives for his father's tales of Cuchulain, who saved Ireland, and of the Angel on the Seventh Step, who brings his mother babies.

Perhaps it is story that accounts for Frank's survival. Wearing rags for diapers, begging a pig's head for Christmas dinner and gathering coal from the roadside to light a fire, Frank endures poverty, near-starvation and the casual cruelty of relatives and neighbors -- yet lives to tell his tale with eloquence, exuberance and remarkable forgiveness.

Angela's Ashes, imbued on every page with Frank McCourt's astounding humor and compassion, is a glorious book that bears all the marks of a classic.
[ This Message was edited by: BuzzKill on 2005-03-15 16:15 ]

114
The Troubled Teen Industry / Darrington & WWASP
« on: March 07, 2005, 06:30:00 PM »
http://www.isaccorp.org/documentsam.html#darrington

ISAC has some interesting photos of Darrington Academy - and some interesting documents.

Folks - take a look at the place - its a strip motel  - or at least that what we call them - the kind were  its one long building, and each room opens to the outside. Often considered the kind that one night romps take place in, as opposed to vacations.

How do you suppose they keep the kids In?

How can they operate a residentional program in such a place and not be breaking fire codes?

Any thoughts?

115
The Troubled Teen Industry / Desperate steps, dark journey; prts I & II
« on: November 08, 2004, 01:24:00 PM »
Desperate steps, dark journey
Troubled at home, a young man is spirited off to Costa Rica and learns how extreme tough love can be
By MARK JOHNSON

Posted: Nov. 7, 2004
First of three parts

The mother kept glancing at the clock as it ticked closer to 3 a.m. That was the hour she had told the men to come for her son.

They were professionals, and they had given strict instructions: Open the door. Introduce us. Leave the room.

Cathy Petershack would be delivering her boy to the care of strangers - men with handcuffs.

Despite his thieving, drug bingeing and fighting, despite the fear of him that drove her to deadbolt the bedroom door at night, she did not want to do this to her only son.

Breaking Joel
 
Desperate Steps, Dark Journey
 
 
Photo/Gary Porter
Now 18, Joel Snider faced the toughest challenge of his young life when his parents sent him to a harsh school in Costa Rica.
 
The Series
 
TODAY: The knock came at 3:05 a.m. Two men stepped from the darkness and went straight to the couch where the boy was resting. Joel Snider went for the back door, but before he could make it, he felt the pinch of a handcuff closing around his left wrist.
MONDAY: At the school in Costa Rica, Joel rebelled more. And the school got tougher. Hour after hour, he was forced to stand with his nose against the wall. At other times, he was made to kneel, nose to the wall, hands behind his back, as if he were under arrest.
TUESDAY: After months of trusting the academy, his mother suddenly was wary. Hours later, she heard her son's voice for the first time in five months. Joel was crying.  


Quotable
 
 I didn't have any emotions at all. Feelings were what I couldn't feel. That's why I was a cutter. I was so numb inside that the only way I could feel was to cut my body.
 
- Joel Snider
 
Four years earlier, Joel had been just another kid going to Cub Scouts with his stepfather and building a pinewood derby racer.

Now, in August 2002, her son was 16 and a 280-pound gangbanger and truant, the kind of youth people dismiss with a single word: "thug." And yet, Cathy looked at her baby-faced son lying on the couch in his boxer shorts, watching "The Lord of the Rings," and her heart broke.

His clothes lay folded in a Tupperware container, packed for departure. He didn't even know he was leaving.

At 1 in the morning, Cathy could not look in his eyes. She just wanted to hold him again as if he were still a child.

"I love you, hon," she said and left the room.

The knock came at 3:05 a.m.

When Joel's stepfather, Steven Petershack, opened the door, two men stepped from the darkness into his Milwaukee home. They went straight to the couch, where the boy was resting.

Joel looked up, startled. One of the men was actually bigger than him, half a foot taller, 300 pounds, muscular.

"These guys are going to take you to a school," Steven Petershack told his stepson, and at that moment he felt he had failed as a parent.

Joel shot up from the couch and went for the back door. Before he could get there, he heard a sharp, metallic click and felt the pinch of a handcuff closing around his left wrist.

"You're coming with me," the big man said, "either the nice way or the hard way."

As the men led Joel from the house toward a waiting car, his stepfather rushed to hug him. Joel swung with his uncuffed fist. Before he could strike his stepfather, the escorts pulled him away and guided him into the car.

Cathy walked outside, and one of the men unrolled a car window a few inches. She could see her son's face, his brown eyes squinting fiercely.

"I have to do this," she said, "because I love you."

Joel cursed and gave her the finger.

The car drove off.

Cathy prayed that the program would work and that in time her son would forgive her. She believed that to survive in the world, he'd have to learn to make good choices.

She wondered about the choice she had made.

Better than jail
Other options exhausted, parents take extreme action
In a final act of desperation, Cathy had paid $5,000 to have her son taken against his will and flown to a "tough love"-style boarding school in Costa Rica.

Every month, she and her husband would pay the Costa Rican school about $2,100 to do what they could not - straighten out their troubled boy.

Cathy, a boiler attendant at Juneau Business High School, and Steven, an engineer for 65th Street School, took out loans totaling $25,000, money that might have sent their son to college.

Still, if the Costa Rican school worked, it would be worth the cost.

"What's the price of a person's life, especially your son's?" Steven Petershack would later say. "We would have hocked everything to get him on the right path."

Everything they had tried - drug rehabilitation, counselors, threats, love - had failed. For two years they had been surfing the Internet and collecting catalogs on military schools, boot camps, even Boys Town, the Nebraska home for wayward youths.

But the night Joel was jumped in a park, his face beaten bloody in a dispute over girls and snitching, the Petershacks realized they could wait no longer. Cathy believed that without drastic intervention her son would end up dead - if not by someone else's hands, then by his own. A few days after the beating in the park, she phoned the men who would take Joel to Costa Rica.

Cathy knew extreme measures can change a life.

As a teenager in Kenosha, she had rebelled against her mother's strict Southern Baptist morals by drinking in bars and running away from home. After Cathy was arrested for being a habitual runaway, her mother let her sit in jail for almost a month. Behind bars, Cathy saw women in their 20s and 30s, and she wondered whether this was a glimpse of her future.

"I wrote a letter to God and to my mother, and read it in juvenile court," Cathy recalled. "It said something like, 'This is not the path I want to choose for my life.' "

Although the time in jail would not mark the last time she made a poor choice, 30 years later she would view it as a turning point.

Now, worried about the path her son was choosing, she had sent him to a foreign land. The brochures for the Academy at Dundee Ranch showed a swimming pool and assured parents that observing the abundant howler monkeys, green parrots and other Costa Rican wildlife, "one cannot help but gain a new perspective."

At least it wasn't jail.

A burgeoning business
New programs cater to tougher breed of teen
A generation ago troubled teens like Joel ended up in reform school. Today there are mellower-sounding "behavior modification programs," "specialty boarding schools," and "wilderness treatment facilities."

"They're exploding. They're opening all over the United States. They're opening in prairie towns and New England farms and the deserts of Arizona," said David L. Marcus, author of the forthcoming book "What It Takes to Pull Me Through: Why Teenagers Get in Trouble and How Four Got Out."

Teen crisis centers run by Americans also have opened in places such as Mexico and Costa Rica, where cheap labor and the strength of the U.S. dollar allow them to charge lower fees. But the practice has brought international scrutiny to the treatment of children tolerated by the United States, one of only two nations (Somalia being the other) that have never ratified the United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child. The U.N. document broadly defends the rights of children, including contact with their families, freedom of expression and protection from physical and mental abuse.

Moreover, critics have charged that some overseas facilities catering to American teens have employed harsh methods that violate the laws of their host countries.

In the U.S., the new programs fall into a regulatory gray area between residential treatment centers and traditional boarding schools; monitoring varies from state to state. No one even knows how many such facilities exist.

The 5-year-old National Association of Therapeutic Schools and Programs boasts 127 members in 30 states, "but I know there are a lot more than that out there," said Jan Moss, the association's interim executive director.

Today's programs must deal with a tougher breed of teenager, Marcus said, kids who face more temptations, take bigger risks and "are tripping up in bigger and more dangerous ways than kids did 50 years ago."

To bewildered parents like the Petershacks, these children are stumbling toward an overdose, suicide, imprisonment or life on the streets.

"Most of these families are strapped. You mortgage your house. You cash in your 401(k). But if your kid needed a liver transplant, you'd figure out where to get the money," said Ken Kay, president of the Utah-based World Wide Association of Specialty Programs and Schools, a group of schools for troubled teens.

Kay's association included the school in Costa Rica that Cathy Petershack chose for her son.

Father figures
Modeling his own upbringing, stepdad gave time, attention
Cathy, 47, had always hoped to give Joel and his big sister, Julie, a less turbulent childhood than her own.

Cathy was just 7 when her father effectively vanished from her life. He spent time in prison, and after his release, moved away. His contact with Cathy became a check at Christmas.

Cathy's son, Joel, was 4 when she divorced his father.

During a miserable first marriage, Cathy spent time in a shelter for battered wives. She claimed her husband punched her in front of the children, even as she told them, "Go play in the bedroom."

Joel took his surname, Snider, from his birth father - but little else. In an echo of earlier times, a check from his dad arrived at Christmas. On the rare occasions when they spoke, Joel took to addressing his birth father by first name, never "Dad."

That title passed to another man, Cathy's second husband, Steven Petershack. The couple met through friends in the school system and married six months after Cathy divorced her first husband.

Cathy was heartened by the way her son took to his stepfather. Joel was a loud, funny, independent child, much as Cathy had been.

When Steven introduced Joel to the structured world of Cub Scouts, the boy thrived. They went to troop meetings and played baseball together. On weekends and holidays, they fished at Steven's cabin up north.

"I sort of treated him the way my Dad treated me," Steven said.

Steven's own father had been generous with his time, and strict with his discipline. Steven felt such a mix of fear and respect that he craved his father's approval long after the old man died.

The bond between Steven and his stepson turned out to be more fragile.

The bond loosens
Rebellion escalates into drug abuse, violence
About the time Joel turned 13, he left Scouts and the family moved to another neighborhood in Milwaukee. Father and son found nothing to replace the Scouting activities that had helped them bond. The only time they were good together anymore was up north in the cabin.

Soon, Joel was less eager to make the trip to Rhinelander. He sat at home more, watching television and snacking. He gained weight, topping 200 pounds. With the weight gain came depression. He felt isolated - by his size and by the birth father who had rejected him.

Joel made no effort to hide his dark mood. When Cathy and Steven asked him to pick up clothing or lectured him about schoolwork - he'd already been held back a grade - Joel maintained a stony silence or walked away.

Very quickly, the Petershacks found themselves facing more than the typical surly teenager. The first clue was a call from Kmart security. Joel had been caught stealing pens and pencils.

He was in sixth grade.

His parents grounded him for weeks.

As he felt Joel pulling away, Steven grew angrier and less patient. He could not understand why Joel seemed unconcerned about consequences. The boy skipped school often, something Steven had been too afraid to do when he was young.

He yelled at Joel. That only made the boy rebel more against Steven, a man he began to view as merely a substitute father.

Early on, Steven had spanked Joel, just as his own father had spanked him. But Cathy disapproved; violence rekindled the bad memories from her first marriage. As a result, Steven was unsure how to discipline Joel.

"I didn't know whether to be nicer to him or be more strict," he said, "give him more privileges or take privileges away."

Like other parents, Cathy and Steven took away TV and video games and sent their child to his room. Like other parents, they heard the door slam in response. Like other parents, they searched their child's bedroom.

In Joel's room, they found his old toys - plastic bats and even a ceramic teddy bear; he had hollowed them into marijuana pipes.

He was in seventh grade.

Cathy knew about youthful rebellion, but her son's version seemed extreme and frightening. How can he be so unhappy? she wondered.

He ran away, and not just once or twice. He ran for days, even weeks, then returned to fill a backpack with fresh clothes, and ran again.

Joel bolted so often that Cathy took home a stack of "missing person" reports and filled out everything but the date and what her son was wearing.

He was in eighth grade.

When he was home, Joel brought new friends who wore dark "Goth" clothing, including long black coats. They made Steven and Cathy feel like intruders in their own house.

Joel and his friends broke into Cathy's prescription bottles, stealing not only pain pills, but blood pressure and even hormone pills.

She bought a small safe and locked up her medications.

One night Cathy awoke to find a friend of Joel's on the bedroom floor rifling through the pockets of her clothes and snatching wadded-up dollar bills. She chased the boy downstairs and forced him to return the money.

Then, Steven installed a deadbolt on the bedroom door.

"We couldn't lock him up," the stepfather explained, "so we locked us up."

Outside their house, Joel did worse things. He and some friends were involved in a gang. They mugged people for drug money. They fought in school and outside.

Sometimes Joel came home with black eyes and swollen lips.

However, no one damaged Joel's body more than Joel himself. What he did went beyond anything Cathy could imagine from her teen years.

One day she grabbed her son's arm because he was ignoring her. He jerked his arm back, his face stiffening in pain. Cathy rolled up his sleeve and discovered a series of cuts, more than a dozen, some deep and raw.

At the time he could not explain why he cut himself. Several years later he would put it this way:

"I didn't have any emotions at all. Feelings were what I couldn't feel. That's why I was a cutter. I was so numb inside that the only way I could feel was to cut my body."

One day Joel saw his mother crying at the kitchen table, and he knew she was crying over him. He felt nothing.

Alarmed by the cuts on his arms, the Petershacks took Joel to Milwaukee Psychiatric Hospital to undergo drug rehabilitation.

He was in ninth grade.

He spent at least three weeks at the hospital. He started taking the anti-depressants Zoloft and Wellbutrin. He saw a psychiatrist.

Nothing changed.

He was using cocaine. To pay for it, he sold a Game Boy his parents had bought him just a day earlier, shoplifted compact discs, and stole his father's collection of quarters, worth close to $1,000.

At one point, Joel lived with his sister, Julie, who was married and had children, but after six months he moved back home. Whatever progress he made with her was short-lived.

The drug use, fighting and stealing continued. His weight peaked at 350 pounds, before he resumed running away and eating irregularly.

Cuffs and barbed wire
Parents hatch plan to move son out of country
It was no secret to Joel that his parents had been looking at military schools and boot camps. Sometimes he picked up the mail, laughing as he delivered the brochures to his mother. Like you can afford these places, he'd say.

The Petershacks were not rich. But they were running out of ideas.

One day Cathy went to the computer and began typing phrases into an Internet search engine: "teen problems," "help for troubled teens."

A few keystrokes led her to a network of facilities for troubled teens, known as the World Wide Association of Specialty Programs and Schools. With headquarters in Utah, this trade association included more than half a dozen schools that used similar methods and treated 2,000 teens a year.

The schools were expensive, some well over $3,000 a month.

Cathy found that the most affordable was a place called Academy at Dundee Ranch. The academy, which opened in Costa Rica in 2001, looked beautiful in the photographs, a former resort set amid tropical fruit trees and flowers. Students took classes, as they would at school, and earned credits toward their high school diploma.

There was a videotape with testimonials from grateful parents and students, who explained over and over that the program had saved lives. Parents got back the loving sons and daughters they thought had been lost forever.

Cathy knew that Joel would not enter the academy voluntarily. Nor could he be tricked into believing the family was taking a vacation to Costa Rica. An official at the association of specialty programs and schools suggested one other option: Hire men to "escort" Joel.

Cathy soon faced a barrage of forms, waivers and applications, so many she bought a small fax machine to send and receive everything. She and Joel's birth father agreed to give temporary custody of their son to the men taking him to Costa Rica. They gave the academy permission to monitor Joel's mail, place him under observation away from other students and even physically restrain him.

It seemed as if Cathy was giving up a lot. But if Joel overdosed or crossed the wrong gang member, she might lose him forever. She signed every form.

Then, in the early hours of Aug. 7, 2002, the men with handcuffs came for Joel.

At Mitchell International Airport, sheriff's deputies checked with Cathy to make sure she approved of her son being taken away. The two escorts removed Joel's handcuffs as they boarded a plane to Atlanta. They took three seats and put Joel in the middle.

I'm screwed, he thought.

At the airport in Atlanta, Joel realized they weren't heading down the hallway to pick up baggage. The men were marching him toward the area for connecting flights. He pressured them until finally they told him where he was going: Costa Rica.

At 8 that morning back in Wisconsin, Joel's sister, Julie, awoke suddenly. Her mother had come over and was standing beside the bed. Cathy told her daughter that Joel was going on a plane. He was leaving the country. If she wanted to talk to him, she had to do it now.

Cathy dialed a number, then handed the phone to Julie. Joel said he didn't know what was going on. He sounded scared. He was crying. Julie hadn't known he was capable of tears.

Joel told his sister he loved her. But there was something he needed to get straight. Had she known he was going to be sent away?

"No," Julie said. "No, I didn't."

She wished she could jump through the phone and save him. All she could do was say goodbye. When she got off the phone, her mother was crying.

After the flight to Costa Rica and a two-hour drive through the green, mist-shrouded mountains, Joel arrived late in the afternoon at Academy at Dundee Ranch.

The academy, a 15-minute drive from the Pacific Ocean, had a curious entrance for a school: a barbed wire fence with old branches for posts. Inside, Joel passed an abundance of tropical flowers and palm, mango and lemon trees.

This would be his new home, though for how long he did not know. Legally he could be compelled to stay until his 18th birthday - 16 months away.

Joel was taken to the cafeteria, where he insulted a member of the staff.

Then, left alone for a moment, he remembered something. He'd hidden a small amount of cocaine inside a seam in his shoe. No one had stopped him at the airports. He reached down.

Still there!

In his first hour at the $2,100-a-month academy, Joel snorted cocaine.

For the last time.



Months at ranch leave son bruised, parents in turmoil
By MARK JOHNSON

Posted: Nov. 7, 2004
"Joel,
You don't know how bad I felt doing this to you, but I truly did it out of my love for you. I know you won't think so for a while, but this was the hardest thing I felt I faced up to in a long time...
I love you son. Please believe I'm doing this to save you from yourself...


Love, Mom & Dad."

- August 2002 letter to Joel Snider from his mother

Breaking Joel
 
Desperate Steps, Dark Journey
 
 

At Dundee Ranch in Costa Rica, officials of the harsh school cut Joel Snider's hair and shaved off the teen's goatee. Considered a "refuser" to the rules of the program, Joel (center), at the school about six months in this picture, was repeatedly punished for hours, painfully restrained and fed less than other students.
 
 


 
The Series
 
SUNDAY: The knock came at 3:05 a.m. Two men stepped from the darkness and went straight to the couch where the boy was resting. Joel Snider went for the back door, but before he could make it, he felt the pinch of a handcuff closing around his left wrist.
TODAY: At the school in Costa Rica, Joel rebelled more. And the school got tougher. Hour after hour, he was forced to stand with his nose against the wall. At other times, he was made to kneel, nose to the wall, hands behind his back, as if he were under arrest.
TUESDAY: After months of trusting the academy, his mother suddenly was wary. Hours later, she heard her son's voice for the first time in five months. Joel was crying.  
About the story

 
Forced to fly from his home in Milwaukee to a tough Costa Rican boarding school in order to turn his life around, Joel Snider was not off to a promising start.

The staff at the $2,100-a-month Academy at Dundee Ranch had left him alone for just a few minutes. Joel, 16, hastily had snorted cocaine he'd hidden inside a seam of his shoe.

It was cocaine - along with the stealing, truancy and gang activity - that had convinced his parents, Cathy and Steven Petershack, to borrow $25,000 to send him to this last-chance school.

In the smoldering heat of Costa Rica, Joel's rebellious streak would collide with the academy's rigid system for breaking teens of destructive behavior.

That first day, Aug. 7, 2002, Joel met with a "buddy," a senior student who was supposed to explain the academy and its rules. Instead, he seemed more interested in hearing Joel talk about his misdeeds.

Joel would learn the rules on his own - mostly by breaking them.

In the first 24 hours, his hair was cut short. When the staff shaved off his goatee, he struggled so much he was shoved against a wall.

He had joined 134 teenagers at the academy.

At night, Joel and nine other boys shared a three-walled room, or "bat cave" as it was called. They slept in triple bunk beds. Speaking was not allowed.

The academy used a point system to reward students for good behavior and punish them for bad behavior. Points for good work and positive attitude allowed kids to move up in levels and gradually gain privileges.

A phone call home was a privilege that took students at least three months - and more often six - to earn.

Losing points was easy. Students forfeited points for rolling their eyes, burping, making rude comments about the program, looking at a member of the opposite sex.

After a few days, Joel realized he faced a choice: "If you're not working the program, you're refusing the program." From the beginning, Joel was a "refuser," the term the academy used for defiant kids.

His first act of rebellion: talking.

His first punishment: more than 12 hours of exercise - jumping jacks, push-ups and walking laps in the sizzling Costa Rican heat. Such physical activity did not come easy for Joel, who arrived at the academy weighing 280 pounds.

And yet, the punishment failed to make him compliant. He swore at the guards. In the classroom, students weren't allowed to glance up from their books, but Joel stood and walked out.

The staff responded day after day with more exercise and less food. They gave Joel rice and beans for all three meals, and as long as he refused to cooperate, he got less to eat than the other students.

At times, the exercises were so grueling that Joel thought he would pass out. He began to lose weight.

Anger kept him going. He knew the academy was costing his parents plenty; he would show them it was not only expensive, but futile. They would see no change in him, no improvement whatsoever.

No family contact
Treatment causes rift between mother, daughter
When he wrote his first e-mail to his mother and stepfather a few weeks after arriving in Costa Rica, the message was: I hate you. This place sucks. Do you know what you're doing to me?

The staff refused to send it. Nor would they send his second e-mail. Too angry.

Weeks passed before Joel's parents finally heard from him. By then Cathy and Steven had been warned to disregard any complaints from their son. Over the phone, a Dundee official had told the Petershacks to be wary if Joel claimed he was being abused. Staff routinely warned parents not to believe their children's complaints, according to Amberly Knight, a former director of the academy who quit in August 2002.

The Petershacks were told that kids will say anything to get out of the academy. They manipulate. Hadn't Joel been manipulating them for years?

But the phone call from the school alarmed Joel's older sister, Julie.

"You know Joel," she told her mother. "Joel's not going to be, like, 'Somebody's abusing me.' He's a tough kid. If he starts saying that stuff, you need to pull him out."

Cathy trusted the academy. She knew that Joel hated going to school and following rules. She'd have been suspicious if he loved the place.

Besides, the academy staff stressed the importance of not removing Joel from the program too soon. That would be like taking a cake out of the oven before it had fully baked, Cathy was told; the cake would collapse.

Such arguments did not persuade Julie, who is five years older than Joel. Secretly she and her husband discussed a radical step: fighting for custody of her brother.

In the end, Julie was talked out of a custody battle by her father-in-law; he feared the fight would drive a permanent wedge between Julie and her mother.

More than 2,000 miles away, Joel was still dividing his family.

Bruised knees, lost weight
Punishment begins to take physical toll
In Costa Rica, Joel rebelled more. The academy got tougher.

"It seemed like he was always in trouble," said Lindsay Garner, a teenager from Alabama who attended the academy with Joel. "I would always see him in O.P."

O.P. was shorthand for a punishment called "observational placement."

Day after day, while other students went to classes and watched educational videos, Joel was ordered to the observational placement room - a small, former bathhouse with a hard tile floor. There, he was forced to stand with his nose an inch from the wall, hour after hour, with only short breaks. At other times, Joel was made to kneel, nose-to-the-wall, hands behind his back, as if he were under arrest.

The kneeling bruised his knees. More noticeable than the bruises, though, was the weight Joel was losing.

"After a while, he got real skinny," Garner said. "He looked drained a lot of the time. His clothes were so baggy, they didn't fit anymore."

Although academy officials have insisted that students received plenty of food, the school's doctor, Edgar Leguizamon, said he saw some children who were losing too much weight. The doctor said he insisted they receive more food and even made a list of students to be given second helpings. For a few months, the students on the list did get seconds, but after a while, the academy stopped, the doctor said.

Leguizamon also worried that students were suffering from overcrowded conditions, insufficient psychological counseling and excessive sun exposure during the forced exercises. Many times he considered leaving the academy.

"I stayed for the kids," he said.

Broken will
After months of resistance, 'I just gave up'
The Spartan conditions at Dundee Ranch had not softened Joel's attitude. He still refused to obey rules, and that brought even harsher consequences.

One of the many forms Joel's parents had signed before sending him to Costa Rica had given the academy staff permission to restrain Joel in extreme circumstances, for example, if he endangered himself or someone else. In the observational placement room, Joel learned what was meant by "restrain."

Joel was seized by male staff members more than a dozen times - once for striking a guard and the rest for minor offenses such as talking. Each time, Joel lay on his stomach while a guard pressed a knee into his back and wrenched his arms back toward his head.

"You'd scream," Joel said. "Everybody screamed."

He fought the urge. As he felt his arms jerked behind him, Joel would tell himself: Don't let your enemy hear you scream. Before you know it, it will be over.

Garner said that as she studied in the classroom, she could hear the shrieks of fellow students coming from the observational placement room some 50 yards away. In her view, the practice "was like torturing people into being good."

Students were restrained only as a last resort, said Ken Kay, president of the association to which Dundee Ranch belonged. But Knight, the academy's former director, disagreed, saying that restraint "was commonly used as an intimidation technique, not as a last resort."

Joel found that during the days of exercise and observational placement, there was nothing to do but think. He picked over every aspect of his life.

It wasn't like a movie in which all of the thinking swells into a great wave of regret. Joel daydreamed about beating up the guards or running away. Often, he simply thought, I wish I hadn't got caught.

Still, there were things he regretted. Neglecting school was one. But what haunted him most were his last words to his mother as he'd sat in the car waiting to be taken far from home. He had cursed her. It pained Joel to think that if anything happened to either of them, his last message to his mother would not have been "I love you," but something ugly.

In December, with Christmas approaching, it dawned on Joel that he had been at the academy almost five months and was no closer to going home. He was tired of exercises, staring at walls, going to bed hungry and waking up the same.

"I just gave up. They broke my spirit. They broke my will," Joel said. "I'll write the letters you want me to write. I'll say what you want me to say. I'll be a goddamn robot."

He had refused the program. Now, reluctantly, he tried to follow it.

On Christmas Day, Joel got his first phone call home since his arrival four months earlier. It lasted five minutes.

With a member of the Dundee Ranch staff hovering nearby, Joel apologized to his mother for cursing at her in Milwaukee. Cathy Petershack wept and told her son that the family loved him and missed him.

She chose her words carefully, making sure not to say that she wanted him home right away. The academy staff had warned her not to tell Joel anything that might lead him to believe he'd be coming home soon.

In his absence, it was a grim Christmas. The family had not been told precisely when Joel would phone, and his sister, Julie, missed the call by a few minutes when she ran out for diapers. She spent much of the day in tears.

Raw emotion
As time wears on, frustration builds
After Christmas, Joel made a push to gain points, hoping this would help him to leave the academy sooner. He struggled, torn between rebellion and resignation.

Jan. 13.

"Hello mom and dad: I am doing great so far in school and in the program. I am busting butt. But I feel my anger has come up for me in a big way today."

When he wasn't in trouble, Joel now spent hours in the classroom staring at a world history book. Although the Dundee brochure had called the education "self-paced," the promotional video that the Petershacks watched appeared to show an instructor looking at a student's work and offering assistance.

In practice, no teacher lectured students. Kids were given a book to read, and when they finished, a test to pass. They could keep taking the test until they passed.

Cathy Petershack said she was told her son could keep up with his high school class in Milwaukee and perhaps even catch up the grade he had fallen behind. But Joel never approached that best-case scenario. For months, when Cathy phoned the academy for updates on Joel, his curriculum consisted of the same lone course: "World history."

He also was attending a daily "group session," in which students got to talk about their lives and reflect on their choices. At first, Joel said little. Gradually, though, he began to open up.

"He would talk a lot about his sister, how he had bounced around, drugs," said Christopher Carbo, a Florida teenager who met Joel at Dundee Ranch. "Everything he said was real on point, mature, the kind of thing an adult would say."

According to Joel's e-mails home, he was trying to follow the program. Yet at times he made little progress. The rules had changed, and Joel found it harder to earn points. He lost points for small infractions, like having a stain on his white T-shirt.

Frustration boiled over into his letters and e-mails, and into those from Cathy and Steven.

Joel to his stepfather:

"... As for me being a disrespectful Bleep that's the way you perceive me ... The reason a man would have done all you have as my father is because you LOVE my mother and eventually LOVED me. The fact is I am your son. I am more like you. No not blood, but values, behaviors, life. I am you."

Cathy to Joel:

"... I am at work right now, 2 a.m. with two hours sleep, feel like throwing up over the messes you put yourself into and dad and I along with you!! ... You are only headed down an express lane highway called Life ... At the rate of speed you keep going you are going to die. I don't care to watch it happening."

The lectures flowed both ways. Joel wrote Cathy about her drinking. Sometimes she thought it showed how much he cared; other times, it only proved how far he'd go to provoke her. Before her son sat in judgment, there were things she wanted him to know. She wrote:

"I have devoted myself to you from the day I made the conscious decision to want another child (YOU) enough to go 'cold turkey' in a clinic, off shooting heroin & cocaine to give birth to you. I have fought so much and overcame so much. You don't even know."

Joel sent drawings home. Cathy looked at his sketches of kids with angry faces and wondered if that's how Joel felt when he thought of her.

On other occasions, he doodled the word "mother" in graceful pen strokes and sent a beautiful drawing of a rose with a tear drop; Cathy saw love and sadness in these efforts.

As often as the good days lifted her spirits, the bad ones jolted her back.

She had borrowed so much money to send Joel to this school, and sometimes he just seemed angry.

After five months, Cathy reached a breaking point. Some relatives had grown tired of Cathy and the chaos that surrounded her. Her drinking had gotten worse. And harsh as Joel's letters were at times, she missed him and felt alone.

One day she typed an e-mail to her husband at work.

"Goodbye," she wrote. "It's not that I don't love you. I just can't handle any more of this."

She said she was leaving.

Steven placed frantic calls to Cathy's relatives. He brought home flowers and told Cathy that he loved her.

She didn't leave; in truth, she didn't know where she would go. But for several days, she shut herself in her room. Finally, Steven told her that together they had decided what to do about Joel; together they should see it through.

Shared experience
Parents get bitter taste of what son is enduring
From the beginning, Cathy had known that her son would have to work hard in Costa Rica to straighten out his life. Now she realized the struggle was not his alone.

That was a point Dundee Ranch officials impressed on parents by urging them to attend special seminars similar to those the children must complete. The seminars, which preach honesty, accountability and self-esteem, were sold to parents as a vital step in healing the whole family.

Over a long weekend in the spring, Cathy and Steven Petershackwent through their first seminar, "Parent Discovery," at a hotel in Chicago.

The rules were strict. Each day, parents had to be seated by the time the theme to "2001: A Space Odyssey" finished playing. If they were late, they were reprimanded.

Inside the training room, parents were not allowed to eat, drink or chew gum. Nor could they record the proceedings or take notes without permission.

During the seminar, parents were singled out and pressed to talk about traumatic events. Cathy was led to the front. Her knees shook. Under questioning from one of the seminar leaders, she talked about an event buried deep in childhood that did not involve her directly, but forever changed her family: Her father was convicted of incest and imprisoned.

In front of all those strangers, Cathy wept so heavily that when she had finished speaking, she asked to be excused to change her contact lenses. No, she was told, not unless she wanted to face a "consequence" or punishment.

Two thousand miles away, her son's school in Costa Rica was using a new punishment.

For several months, instead of exercises, Joel and other students were made to build a walled compound known as a "high impact" center.

The students dug trenches 5-feet deep, carried heavy bags of sand and mixed cement. Joel realized there would soon be a harsh, new place for the academy's hardest cases.

He was building it.

Second of three parts



http://www.jsonline.com/news/metro/nov04/273168.asp

http://www.jsonline.com/news/metro/nov04/273251.asp

116
The Troubled Teen Industry / The quite program kids
« on: October 18, 2004, 01:09:00 PM »
This subject is sometime mentioned; but I feel it needs stressing; these kids do not normally come home talking about the abuse. They don't dare in the phone calls; and by the time you meet them they just don't.
For example,
My son was forced to stay on his knees, face to the wall, hands behind his back, for hours at a time; for days at a time.
He was "restrained" for requesting the use of the restroom.
He wasn't allowed to talk to anyone. Normal conversation was forbidden.
He wasn't allowed to look out a window; or up; or to the right; or to the left.
He frequently witnessed others being brutally restrained.
He frequently was aware of others being beat up.

*But I didn't learn about any of this until months after he was out.*

He didn't meet me at the air port talking about these things. His overall conversation was positive.
He never mentioned most of it.

He Had told me he was hungry - all the time - that all he could think of was food. ( He lost nearly 25 pounds, in four months.)
He had told me the "school" was a joke.
He had mentioned sleeping on the floor.
He had complained about not being able to talk.
(I thought he meant during school - he couldn't mean what he seemd to be saying.)  
He had tried to tell me about OP, but I never got that letter.

I was assured this was all his attempt to manipulate me into bringing him home. I fell for this too - for awhile.
I notice how the BBS parents, from all the schools, had kids saying these same things. Hummmm. Odd. Might be something to this.

But I never dreamed what the truth was. Had no clue. Not until he'd been out many months, and as a result of an odd turn of events, I began asking very pointed questions. When he began talking about these things, I was blown away. Shocked, is not to strong a word. Horrified, too.  When I asked why he hadn't told me, he said he thought I knew. He was told by the staff that I had signed a document absolving them of liability if they broke a bone.  So, he thought I knew.
Also, he had been rebuffed by me when reporting some of the above - because I had been convinced he and all the kids were "manipulating". I am sure, he simply felt I would not believe him, and why start trouble? I have since learned this is Common.
The kids don't meet with their parents at pc1 or pc2 and tell them these things. They don't come home after graduation and talk about it. And often times, just asking the general question, where you abused, will get a No; when by anyone's standards, the answer would be Yes, if the details were known. I personally believe this is because they have come to view what happened as "needed and deserved" and they don't recognize it as abuse; because of the Programming.

So, please don't lull yourself to sleep, program parent, simply b/c your program kid has yet to confide in you. The sad truth is, they may never do so; and with good reason.[ This Message was edited by: BuzzKill on 2004-10-18 10:10 ]

117
The Troubled Teen Industry / Another timid post wwasp person
« on: September 29, 2004, 11:59:00 AM »
More Questions about 'Tough-Love' Program
By Tim Rogers
Tico Times Staff
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A second former Dundee Ranch employee contacted by The Tico Times this week said he could vouch for everything Knight had said in her letter.

Speaking on condition that his name not be used, the former employee said: "If you put a spy camera in Dundee for a day, you would find abuse and an ill-trained staff."

"I know the kids are being mistreated there," he added. "What is being promised to the parents is not happening; the kids are not being educated, and they are not being helped emotionally in any way.
                                            ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, opponents of the program are voicing increased concern about the academy's "High Impact basic training facility."

During a Tico Times visit to Dundee last October, Lichfield explained that habitually disobedient youths from the academy or any of WWASP's eight other programs could be sentenced to do time at High Impact, where they must walk 100 miles around a perimeter track to win their freedom (TT, Oct. 25). This week, Lichfield described the walled compound as a "low-impact" facility meant to take kids out of their comfort zone to make them reflect on their behavior. Youths sentenced there will have the option of walking for two hours a day to win points toward graduating in a month, he said.

Critics of WWASP worry that the compound Lichfield is putting the finishing touches on is really a replica of the High Impact facility in Mexico, which was closed by Mexican authorities in 2001 for rights abuses. WWASP has also closed or been forced to close similar programs in Utah and the Czech Republic.

California father Chris Goodwin, who led the charge to close High Impact in Mexico, told The Tico Times this week that his son had been transferred to the Mexican facility from a WWASP program in 2001. At High Impact, Goodwin claims, his son was locked in a dog cage for a week at a time, hog-tied for three days, had his thumb twisted back and broken by a staff member, had his teeth knocked through his lips by a staffer who smashed his face in the ground repeatedly, and was forced to walk around the compound's perimeter track in the sun wearing flannel underwear and a sweatsuit.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"We are trying to improve on the positive elements of the program, and eliminate the negative ones," he said.

Not everyone is convinced that the new facility will be more user-friendly.

"High Impact is going to be bad; it is set up identical to the one that was in Mexico," charged the former staffer who wished to remain nameless. "That is the only model Lichfield knows."

 :skull:




[ This Message was edited by: BuzzKill on 2004-09-29 09:02 ]

118
The Troubled Teen Industry / Timid wwasp employee speaks out
« on: September 27, 2004, 12:46:00 PM »
name withheld
 Wednesday, August 18, 2004 - 12:46 am
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I understand what these boy are saying 100% I havce been a staff member at majestic ranch academy (UT) for sometime and am currently doing my best to see that the place is shut down. I can attest to the facts that students at this establishment are continually neglected, mistreated and downright ABUSED both physically and mentally. The administration cares nothing about the welfare of the students or thier progress, on more than one occasion, I have seen students doing very well (too well) slammed down to level one from level 3 or even 4 for no reason at all, except of course for the fact the buisness loses money if a student is able to graduate in half the time that it "normally" takes. I myself have heard the assistant director, Wayne Winder tell a 14 year old boy that he was stupid, would never graduate and all we were doing was milking his parent's money. the average staff to student ratio at MR is 1 to 10 on a good day. These students are supposed to be learning how to take care of a ranch and care for animals right? Wrong. They very rarely have any contact with animals on the ranch, ALL of which are in very poor condition. The owner of the ranch, Dan Peart has been known to shoot dogs because the students pet them. One of my students told me one day that while working with Dan he witnessed him (dan) drag a live llama on the ground behind a horse at a full run for quite a distance. after he stopped, he tied the wounded animal to a fence and left it, telling the boys,"I don't care if you kill that damn ting" I have heard stories from other students of dan stopping his truck, (with boys inside) pulling a rifle from behind his seat to shoot deer and leave their bodies where they lay. Is this how we should teach children to care for animals? There are so many problems with this company, it is a truly terrible enviroment for children. If you have been thinking about sending your child to a wwasp program, DON'T DO IT!!!!! And if you have children in a program, YOU ARE BEING LIED TO AND YOUR CHILDREN ARE NOT SAFE!!! For their sake please pull them from wwasp programs as soon as possible. I promise you that all the staements on this message are 100% factual

119
The Troubled Teen Industry / NY Times Story and a Question
« on: September 26, 2004, 01:26:00 PM »
Mexico Shuts Tough-Love Center

September 26, 2004
By TIM WEINER

A behavior-modification program for American adolescents is
 back in business in Jamaica after its 300 teenagers there
 were evacuated in the teeth of a hurricane.

 But the president of the association overseeing the program, Ken Kay, said he remained mystified  federal officials' decision to shut down an affiliated center, Casa by the Sea, in Ensenada, Mexico, with about 550 youths.

 Mr. Kay, president of the World Wide Association of
 Specialty Programs and Schools, said a raid on Casa two
 weeks ago was unjustified.

 The authorities have said that the children in the
 behavior-modification program, overwhelmingly Americans,
 were in Mexico in violation of immigration statutes, that
 the program was improperly dispensing pharmaceuticals and
 that four children showed signs of abuse.

 Mr. Kay said that "there were no substantiated cases of
 abuse," immigration violations or major problems with
 pharmaceuticals.

 The programs had more than 2,200 children enrolled in
 Mexico, Jamaica and the United States before the raid, and
 are among the fastest-growing private behavior-modification
 programs in the world.

 Many parents and children praise the group's standards,
 which can include prolonged isolation and, by many
 accounts, tough physical and psychological treatment. But
 it also has many critics.

 The program in Jamaica, called Tranquility Bay, is run by
 Mr. Kay's son, Jay Kay. Housed in a converted hotel on the
 island's southern shore, it sustained several hundred
 thousand dollars of damage when Hurricane Ivan hit it two
 weeks ago, a spokesman said.


http://www.nytimes.com/2004/09/26/inter ... d6e6d8f4de


My question is; if this is so:

The program in Jamaica, called Tranquility Bay, is run by Mr. Kay's son, Jay Kay. Housed in a converted hotel on the island's southern shore, it sustained several hundred thousand dollars of damage when Hurricane Ivan hit it two weeks ago, a spokesman said.

Then how can the place be fit to occupy?

120
The Troubled Teen Industry / IVAN & TB [where are the kids?]
« on: September 16, 2004, 12:25:00 PM »
I am increasingly disturbed by the apparent silence on the welfare of the Tranquility Bay kids.
The only comment I was able to solicit from a program parent was that those who need to know, know. However, from the perspective of one who does not trust the source of their information; I ask, Have they heard from the kids? Have any of them been able to speak with their kid?
Deafening silence on that point.
Treats to yank the thread from the moderator.
Another board not only wouldn't post the question; but also yanked an entire thread on a related board b/c it was started by the questioner.
This is disturbing!!

Can anyone confirm the kids are OK - all present and accounted for?

This question goes ignored and elicits angry responses.

Why ??
This is alarming!

Where are the kids and are they ok and how can you prove it!!!

The lines to the hotel were the embassy says the kids are, are up and working and have been.

But no one will answer the phone.

WHY NOT!!

You ought to be raising ten kinds of hell.

Are you compleatly lost to reason??

Dame people - How can you tolerate them telling you, you can't talk to your kid, under such circumstances??!!

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