My name is Maggie and I wanted to give you all some insight as to why and how I started my journey to Victory Christian Academy.
I was 16 and out of control. I never really did any real drugs, except weed. I constantly ran away from home, ditched school and stole a car once. I was also fighting at school. My parents had already put me through a psychiatric facility for up to a year when I was 14 and 15. At the time of my capture I was a runaway living with my boyfriend; he was 19 at the time. My parents were waiting for me to come back to school so they could take me to VCA.
I started my day. It was June 8th 1990. I was found playing craps at the flagpole. I was taken into the office, were later my father showed up to take me home (that is what I thought). He asked me if I wanted to go and see my mom before we were to make a delivery for the small family business that my parents started in 1983. My father tried talking to me and telling me things that I wanted to hear like they were going to get me a car and pay for me to have my own place. I should have known then that that was a lie.
We turned onto a dirt road (something in my mind was telling me to jump from the car and run). We pulled up to the large gate; it was a Friday around 1pm. There were girls outside running at the time. I did not know what they were doing but I noticed they were dressed like nerds. My dad got out the car and asked me to come in with him. I told him that I did not want to so I stayed in the car. Five minutes later a little white man with some glasses thicker than a wall said, “Come on in here, girl." I got out the car and went into a small office. I will never forget this day. I sat there and the man said told me his name was Pastor Palmer but that everyone called him Brother P. He continued to tell me that I would be required to stay with them in this facility for a period of one year. I started to cry. I turned to my father and said "I can't believe you lied to me." Pastor Palmer said, “And how many times did you lie to your parents, girl?"
One minute later a large woman later to be known as Ms. Connie came in to the door. Brother P continued to tell me about the school. I told him that I was not going to be staying there and that there was nothing they could do about it. He started to laugh. A second later Ms. Virginia came in the room and told me it was time for me to get ready to meet the other girls. She grabbed me by my hair, and she and Ms. Connie and dragged me to a bathroom that had a shower. She told me to go in the bathroom stall and take off my clothes. They were laughing in the background and she called me a little bitch. I was so angry! I took a shower and they gave me some of the ugly clothes the other girls had on; dorm clothes and big underwear that looked they were not even clean. I was told to follow behind a girl by the name of Mercedes, she would be my buddy and show me the RULES. I think they paired me with her because I was black. Thinking that when the staff were not around she could tell what was really going on in this Church. I thought damn for Christians or Godly people they were not so nice at all.
They next took me to the school room and I was told to read a Bible for the time being. I told them that I could not read. So I guess my dad was still there and he of course told them that I was lying. They came back and told me to read so I said no. Then again Ms. Virginia came and pulled me by the hair and took me to the Get Right Room. They pulled my clothes off and pushed me in the room. They blasted tapes of preaching. I will never forget. It was called the Ever Dying Fire. I could hear them outside of the room with the small peek hole laughing at me. The school was full so when I was finally let out of the cold cell with the light on the ceiling and no carpet, plywood walls, I was told to sleep on the floor. We were not allowed to look out the windows. I cried myself to sleep for the first couple of months. I thought the worst of it was over but was I ever wrong.
They read my letters to my parents in front of the whole school of girls and staff. I was put on detention was told to face the corner (called the chicken coop) I wrote 1000 lines a day "I will learn to obey the rules." There were others in detention. One girl rebelled by pulling her hair out. She was going bald on top. Another girl was only 12 and they treated her like crap. Ms. Virginia used to pick on her the most. I thought of running away very often. But it was unlikely because of the walls and secluded area.
I remember the Raps they used to have. This was a way girls could vent there anger onto newer girls who were not doing as well as expected. In this rap they accused girls of being gay. It was humiliating. Ms. Virginia was always head of the group. She said you better not have an attitude girl, saying this pointing her finger in my face. I hated the school on my first visit. I fought my parents to come back. They overpowered me and held me down in the car. I was put back on buddy after my visit. I still have nightmares about the school and wake up drenched in sweat.
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Wow.
ReplyDeleteI heard a story on 20/20 years ago about places Christian parents take gay children, and where the kids are held down and shouted at, over and over, "Do you know how you are making your parents feel, and how God feels at your homosexuality?" There were worse punishments as well. One child escaped and got a lawyer to free them from their parents and the abuse of such institutions. The trial was successful. That must be why it was on 20/20. Or maybe it was Dateline.
There's also the award-winning book JESUS LAND by Julia Scheers (check spelling of last name), which discussed another institution parallel to the one to which you were sent.
I hope the nightmares cease. Though what are your thoughts in retrospect about what your life might have been like if your parents had completely ignored you, your friends, etc.? I'm not trying to downplay the psychological suffering such institutions cause. I've read about kids dying at such Christian reform camps here in the U.S. and in other countries. And I've read about the night terrors the linger.
Do you ever think about what could your parents might have done differently? Your parents were probably told that this "good Christian Institution" was there to "help" and they trusted what they were told. They probably even read about "success stories" coming from girls who were sent there. Do you think your parents were gullible, ignorant, or that your parents were seeking retribution, i.e, trying deliberately to get back at you for the pain your actions had been causing them? Do your parents regret what they put you through?
Lastly (please forgive all the questions! or ignore them, that's fine too), but having suffered as you did, do you think it's made your will (and your power to concentrate on things, and resist going with the crowd) stonger in some ways than it might have been had you never suffered at such a place? I'm not excusing the suffering at all. But along with the nightmares, do you ever get the feeling "damn, look what I survived!" and fell that you're stronger, braver, than you had previously thought of yourself as being? Or do you feel the reverse, that you're less in control of your life and emotions? I know it could go either way, most people are broken down after suffering long term adversity, broken down by long term confinement and belittling, and they remain in shell shock their whole lives, i.e., more liable to jump at others, reacting emotionally toward others, judging others. Other people seem to grow aloof, hardened, by just how inhumanely one human can treat another. In both cases, distance can grow between yourself and other people, except maybe people who suffered something along the same lines you do, in which case you'd feel a bond.
I'm not sure if i'm saying any of this right, and hope it does not bring back bad feelings or memories.
I think there's lots of altervative ways you parents could have reacted to what you were doing when you were 16, and I hope you can get over the nightmares.
If I've said anything wrong, forgive me. I'm an ex-fundamentalist Christian, but I was a self-made convert so to speak with secular parents at the time, and attending secular schools. My teenage rebellion period consisted of acting holier than thou and trying to convert my parents and everyone else, including toll booth operators (handing them tracts with money inside), and "liberal" ministers, and my college professors and people I worked with each summer. Today, I hope that some of what I write will help some people to fearlessly ask more questions, because I don't claim to know as much as I once did as to what lay behind the metaphysical curtain.
Edward, thank you for your thoughts and don't think in anyway that you have offended me. You asked what would my parents do with my teenage rebellion? ...I have asked myself the same things over and over in my head seeing how I have two children of my own now... I think I would have my parents pay more attention to me and not so much as negative attention but time with me and my brother instead of just letting us do whatever and get in trouble and then getting punished for it. Sometimes I think the craving of attention from a man can be simply solved by your fathers love and attention. I was afraid of my dad. He often was angry and lashed out on my brother and myself. As we aged we avoided him at all costs. Soon his abuse turned into anger and caused me to just not give a damn. I did stuff at school and out of school just to see what they were going to do next. I just did not give a fuck. I had sex, I tried to steel a car, I got into fights I ran away for weeks at a time. I only smoked weed, lucky for me I later found out that I have a panic disorder and can't handle being under the influence of substances that I cannot control. When I first step foot in that school, I thought I was a super bad ass that no one could mess with me, boy was I wrong. They broke me down like an untamed horse. To get any relief you were told to reform to the rules just to get by or your life for that year or until you turned 18 would be spent with your nose against the wall, following a girl that was younger than you around and letting her boss you around. Being laughed at, having your letters home screaming for help read out loud in front of all the girls and the staff. Being locked in a cold cell like closet for hours on in. One thing that I am happy about that school, it made me a stronger person when it comes to people in general. I don't let people take advantage of me. I have a soft heart but don't cross me or you will be sorry. I did find the Lord Jesus Christ and with all hope I will go to heaven when I pass away. Some of the kids became Atheist but not me I am thankful for the things that I did learn. I certainly did not like the way I was treated at all. I still hold some anger and bad thoughts about how I was treated in there. There was one girl in particular that made my life hell there. I recently saw her and felt like she was also in survivor mode trying to get by just like me.. So on that note I would have to say I am happy with my life today. Thank you for your thoughts and questions..
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