This testimony was located on Reddit (link)
A friend of mine showed me this sub recently and since I’ve been thinking a lot about what happened to me in 2000. I wanted to share my story.
I was 16 and my best friend and I attended a birthday party where the cops showed up and we were arrested for underage drinking. We were sent home with our parents (no actual jail time) and given court dates. My court date was first and I was put on parental supervision house arrest (no ankle bracelet) I was allowed only to attend school and do my community service hours, and I was put on probation for 6 months. A term of the probation was that I was not allowed to speak to or associate with anyone else who was on probation. When my friend had her court date they asked if she knew what my punishment was. She said yes and they asked how she knew and she said because I had told her.
That evening my mother received a phone call from my probation officer saying that I needed to return to court the next day as I was in violation of probation for communicating with my friend. Technically this could not have been a violation as my friend wasn’t on probation when I spoke to her, only I was. Her probation didn’t actually start until her court date. But this did not matter to the judge.
When we showed up to the courthouse I had no idea I wouldn’t be going back home that day. I was told that I was going to be sent to a juvenile facility for at least 28 days, that there would be a hearing then to decide if I could be released back to my mother or if they would extend my stay in the facility.
I was sent to MRDC (Muncie Reception and Diagnostic Center) in Muncie, Indiana. It was a privately run, “hands on”, bootcamp style kiddie jail that has since been permanently closed. It was a nightmare. I have never experienced such a cruel and petty group of adults in my life as the staff of this place. From the moment I was brought in I was humiliated, lied about and abused.
I was 16 and a troubled kid, I guess. I had issues with depression and self harm. At the time I had blue and green dyed hair, facial piercings and several self inflicted cuts on my chest. During the intake process I was stripped naked and made to cover myself in a gallon jug of Lysol. The woman guard directing this activity approached me with a gloved hand and forcefully rubbed the chemicals into my wounds on my chest to “make sure they were clean”. She then told the other guards that the cuts on my body were part of a gang initiation, that I was a gang member and that my boyfriend was a drug dealer and that I had been arrested for being involved in gang related drug trade. None of this was true. I didn’t know anyone who was associated with gang activity and dont think I even had a boyfriend. I’m unclear to this day why she felt the need to spread these lies about me to her fellow staff members but I spent my time there being referred to as “drug dealer”, “blood”, “crip”, etc. I was ridiculed and made fun of constantly and was not ever allowed to respond or correct them.
The first night there is a bit of a blur. I was given a uniform and a handbook of the rules. I was told never to speak unless spoken to, never to look anyone in the eyes, never to speak to or look at the other inmates in my dorm and to do what I was told at all times. The days consisted of shower time, breakfast, physical exercise, school time, lunch, school time, physical exercise, dinner and bed. Any time in between you were only allowed to read your rule book or stare directly forward without meeting anyone’s eyeline.
The first incident of me getting in trouble was in the school room. They were doing a math lesson of some sort, worksheets I think. My pencil tip broke and I raised my hand to ask if I could sharpen it. Without thinking I raised the hand that had the pencil in it and before I could speak a guard charged my desk and slammed my face into it. She said I had tried to stab her and that I’d be going to isolation.
My first time in isolation lasted a few hours and they didn’t take my clothes. It was cold but not unbearably so. I was just put in a small cement cell with a toilet and a security camera. I was given a piece of bread with peanut butter on it at some point and then they sent me back to the dorm room to read the rules and go to bed.
The next day came the second incident. During the physical training exercises I was placed in the front of the dorm, I couldn’t see the other girls behind me. The woman in charge told us to do “monkey humpers”. I had never heard of this exercise and I couldn’t see anyone else to copy their movements, so with great anxiety I raised my hand to ask what I was supposed to do. After a little verbal abuse and humiliation, she asked one of the other inmate girls to demonstrate the exercise for me once. She did and then the woman guard had everyone watch as I attempted it. I tried three times and kept falling over. I got stressed out and started to cry the third time. The woman got down in my face and screamed something like, “I don’t want to hear your fucking sob stories, drug dealer!” I broke down a screamed back “I never told you any sob stories, maam!” And that was it. I was dragged into the hallway by my hair and slammed against the wall. I was cuffed and brought back to isolation.
This time I was stripped naked and this time the heat in the isolation wing was either broken or purposefully turned off, I’m not sure. It was the end of December, just before Christmas and was snowing outside when I’d arrived. I asked the guards if I could keep my underwear and pad because I was on my period and was refused and told just to “sit on the toilet all night if I didn’t want to bleed on myself”. I did. I was freezing cold and mentally stretched to my limit. There were moments I felt like I was starting to mildly hallucinate, like seeing the stains on the walls and floors start to move and undulate. I wasn’t well. I faked a seizure to try to get the nursing staff to help me. The nurse who arrived laughed at me and told me not to call again unless I was dead.
All evening and night I sat naked on the toilet and cried. Every hour or so, male guards would open the eye slit on the door to check on me, usually followed by some sort of disgusting or cruel remark and laughter. I was a naked child being ogled and made fun of.
Around 5 or six that morning something good happened. A man opened the door. He was the first person to address me by name and look in my eyes. He brought me a blanket, panties and a pad. And he informed me that due to my mom and my therapist hounding the judge and probation officers, it had been decided that my new hearing would be the next day. My case would be heard but it was very possible I would be returning to the facility. He knew I hadn’t slept since I’d been sitting on the toilet for 16 hours and said I should try to curl up on the ground and sleep for a bit before they came to take me to court. I did.
A few hours later two different men came back. They had brought the clothes I had been wearing when I came in and another piece of peanut butter bread, an apple and a carton of milk. I was instructed to dress, eat and wait for them to come back. I was never allowed a shower or to brush my teeth or hair.
When they returned they brought my winter coat and told me to put it on. They then cuffed me and zipped the coat all the way up over my chin and nose. I was put in a transport van for the two hour ride back to my hometown. The smell started to hit. I couldn’t understand what I was smelling, I just knew it was bad and it was inescapable. The jacket didn’t feel wet as I can remember, but I noticed the seams in the puffy quilting looked dirty like something was crusted on them. It took me a while to process it. Someone must have urinated on my coat around the time I was initially stripped in intake, then let it dry while my clothes were in storage there.
I went to the hearing knowing it was possible I’d be sent back but luckily I wasn’t. The Hendricks county courthouse has several stories, each level with a round center balcony looking down into a courtyard. I had figured if they tried to send me back I wouldn’t be able to handle it and I would just jump over and hope to get hurt enough to end up in a hospital instead. (I heard a few years back that a kid did end up doing just that and died).
It took a few weeks before I was normal. I still said ma’am and sir and couldn’t look at anyone in the eyes for a while. Spoke very seldom. I felt like a robot zombie. Once my mom got the whole story out of me she was furious and decided to sue MRDC. My lawyer was able to obtain all the security footage from the isolation cell and I still have them in a drawer somewhere. I’ve never watched them. We settled out of court for a certain dollar amount (that was the one stipulation we agreed to, that I was never allowed to publicly disclose the exact figure, but I can say that after the lawyer took half, it wasn’t very much money).
My mom wanted to go to Dateline or 20/20 with the story but I didn’t really want to. I just wanted to move on. The good thing is that the amount that was paid came out of MRDC’s pocket, if I remember correctly, there was some sort of lapse in their insurance and they had to pay me out-of -pocket. That was something at least. The place stayed open for years beyond my stay there and Judge Bowles continued sending kid after underserving kid there. After seeing the documentary CASH FOR KIDS, it occurred to me that that was probably the kind of scam he had going. Not sure when it happened, but I looked up MRDC this week and it says it’s been permanently closed.
If anyone reading made it this far, thanks for your time. I’m sure tons of people in this group have had more heinous experiences. But this one was enough for me. Scared me straight, I suppose, but didn’t do any favors for my mental health.
I arrived at The Village 7/30/20 and was pulled 8/25/20 (Yesterday).
This place is TERRIBLE. There is no form of punishment. There is a HUGE smoking problem within the cabins, I complained about it every chance that I got so now the staff smoke pits are supposedly getting removed. My favorite staff quit within a month of working there. The breaking point for her was seeing a very inappropriate restraint on a child.
A car was stolen from staff by 3 thirteen year old girls and crashed 20 minutes away into the fence of a Waffle House in an apparent escape attempt. Maybe four days after that, another staffs car window was broken with a rock for a pack of cigarettes. There’s fighting between patients constantly. I also had a problem with my therapist using very manipulative techniques to gain information she would have already obtained if she didn’t use her phone to answer messages during sessions.
I am a high school graduate and was given a class by my teacher who said I needed to do the work. She claimed she was in touch with my probation officer who would punish me if I didn’t complete work that didn’t count as a grade for anything outside of there.
I was a very active and verbal communicator. I worked to get things changed in order for future patients to feel safe and mentally healthy in the environment. There were a few incidents with sexual activity between the male and female patients. These are major concerns I feel need to be addressed. There was something happening everyday. Windows were kicked out of cabins, the school, and even busted out of campus vehicles. I’ve asked staff if they would send their child there, every one of them said “No” without hesitation. This place is severely corrupt.
I was told by a Blount County police officer that they have been called out to The Village too many times in the past TEN YEARS! Please do not send a child in need of healing and growth here. Some of my clothes were stolen and when I discharged, staff had other PEERS pack my items for me. I refuse to be in contact with any of the other patients there, despite the fact that they left their information in my bag while packing it. Self harm was also a huge issue. Not a day went by that I was there that I didn’t see some one cut themselves. This set my mindset back, now I am working on what I need with my support group, aka, my family. Explore other options if you can before resorting to The Village.
The original text was found on Google Maps here (link)
I apologize in advance for how jumbled this is going to be.
I still remember the exact day that I was sent there. January 27, 2020. I woke up with my “mom” crying at me, saying that I was going to “one of those schools.” I immediately jolted up in bed. The lights turned on and I saw a pair of huge men. One of them went to shake my hand, like it was no big deal that they came to abduct me from what I thought was a safe place… My own bedroom! At four in the morning! You might be wondering why this was happening. Well, aside from some behavioral issues and major manic and depressive tendencies, I had attempted suicide the week prior. And how do they react to that? By sending me away.
Anyway, let’s fast forward a little bit to when I was being escorted out of my house. When we got outside, one of the men, (“goons” they call them at D.A.) handcuffed me and dragged me to the car, which I am sure only police are allowed to do. I might be wrong. Anyway, when we finally got to the Discovery Academy campus, there were people in the front office. They acted as though it was appalling that I was brazen to them.
Fast forward a few months, I had made a few friends, including a guy we’ll call Jon for the sake of privacy. The way the staff treated the outsiders was disgusting, to say the least. It was one thing not to act like a gang member or be white. It was a whole other thing to be gay, like I am. The staff supported bullying and held things called fight nights, (in which they would force the little guys to participate and be beaten up while everyone watched and laughed) in the house, called North House, which was reserved for the lower levels. If the staff didn’t like you, they would tell other students to jump you and bully you. Luckily I never got jumped or beaten up, but it was threatened multiple times.
While there, I had to fear for my life on many occasions. Sometimes a knife would go missing from the kitchen, and after having multiple threats to my life from other students, I had reason to be terrified. When I say the staff are bad here, that does not apply to all of them. There were a few who were there to love and support the students, and I credit them for my life. The rare kindness of some people there was the only thing that kept me going. When I leveled up and was able to leave North House, I had endured a week of depressive panic attacks where I would hide from everyone and claw at the skin under my clothes, drawing blood. When this behavior was found out, I was put on reflection, which was a way of isolating someone from the rest of the group by not letting them speak and making them wear a bright blue shirt. If you were to break any rules of reflection, you would be extended for a day.
Often times, the failure of one student would lead to the punishment of the whole group, which made a vicious cycle of harassment and intimidation among the group. Basically, if you f***ed up, thus screwing everyone else over, you were targeted by the other students and were often times assaulted. Anyway, let’s move on to the subject of how fights and assaults among the kids there were poorly managed and prevented. One day, my friend Jon, who I mentioned previously, walked down with blood streaming from his mouth and nose. He was the one who was assaulted, yet he got punished after he DEFENDED HIMSELF. I’m sorry, but that really bothered me. That’s aside from the paint though. The pony is that if the staff were actually effective, that would have never happened.
And now let’s move on to the topic of how corrupt the discipline system is there. D.A. has this idealogy that a failure by one is a failure by many, which I already described before. But worse than that, if you so much as DARE to do anything but be pelted by your attacker, you were put on reflection. In another instance, and read on with caution because this is gross, a guy I knew drank URINE because someone peed in his water bottle, and then was put on reflection. For no reason. I’m sorry, I’m just getting way to upset by this right now. I’ll post again soon.
I haven’t seen anyone really post about this school. But figured it’s about time I speak up.
I was sent to several “therapeutic schools” to help resolve my problems. The truth is they did quite the opposite. The majority of my trauma came from the Glenholme school. So let’s talk about that. Looking at their brochures and websites it almost looks like a getaway. Go karts, equestrian, endless activities. But I can say that no fond memories came from that school except the memories of the other students that got me through it.
Each day you were given a piece of paper a token sheet. Your whole day and privileges revolved around these tokens. You’d lose tokens for speaking out of turn, your uniform isn’t perfect, you don’t follow their specific rules the exact way they want you to. And there were levels which were based off of your performance. The highest level you could get offered the privilege of walking short distances by yourself, being alone in your room for short periods of time, choosing your own food to eat. That’s what you strived for that would be the highest point in your life. Their whole system was built to keep you quiet, obedient and out of the way. Which can be the exact opposite of what these “troubled teens” need.
That was just their program the staff were another story. Sure there were a few good ones, mainly the teachers. But very few gave you the impression they were there to help. For most it was a job and ended at that. Your problems were made public, no privacy staff would openly discuss your issues in the company of other students, make jokes at your expense. The real nasty stuff came from when you were alone with them. I confided in one of my classmates my gender identify and sexuality. The staff overheard or found out somehow. I was called disgusting, unnatural as well as numerous homophobic and transphobic slurs and comments. It was easy to ignore at first but then it really starts to break you down. I was told to stop crying or I’d be removed. (Basically brought else where to sit in silence. Students would be gone for hours.) Told that I was making everyone else sad. I was given no support at any time. Taught my problems were my own and not to bother others looking for help. All communication outside was monitored, emails and phone calls. That one time a week you could get on the phone I’d try to tell my parents what was really going on. I was told the phone call would end if I continued for “lying and trying to scare my parents” Those phone calls were precious, you didn’t want to lose them. After a while some people would earn the privilege to go home on the weekends. The staff taught your parents the token system, you had to bring those forms home. Even then you didn’t get a break from them. It was a two+ hour drive from the school to my home. Sunday night heading back to the school I was filled with such a dread it’s hard to explain. I was suicidal and incredibly depressed over the thought of going back. I’ve never wanted to escape something so bad before. You could feel all the happiness being sucked from your body. Not to be overdramatic but it was terrifying.
Twice a week I was sent to the stable to work in the stalls and with the equine, Despite my huge fear of them and repeated begging for other work I was still forced to go. Much went on at that school that I cannot speak on, even six years later it’s too hard. But so many other students suffered too. One student opened up about being sexually assaulted by a staff member. She was called a liar and attention seeker by staff. It didn’t seem like there was any investigation into the matter. Later I would find out that wasn’t the first time something like that happened. A previous staff member had been arrested for repeatedly abusing a student. The school was sued. To this day I think back to that school and all the students still there suffering. Those two years there were the lowest points of my life. I was later diagnosed with CPTSD from my experiences there. The sad thing is this wasn’t an isolated incident. I have spoken to dozens of past students of Glenholme all with similar experiences.
This testimony was found on Reddit. All rights go to the author known as Paris_Stone
I went to Eva Carlston for 14 and a half months. When I first got there, there were groups held to basically bash a girl who was not ready to do her work. they rated her every night like she was a yelp review. In a way t was emotionally damaging.
Certain staff were very disrespectful but we couldn’t speak up about it because we would get in trouble if we did. After a few months of being there of course I made some life long friends. If we didn’t make a certain amount of points a day we couldn’t talk to people really for 24 hours and we had to sit and write essays. There was and is a girl there that has put other people in danger over and over again wether that be throwing windex at someones head. throwing desks, screaming, throwing a vacuum at someone, throwing pots and pans and telling people to shut up when that is not her place. All the girls felt in danger and the owner. Kristi Ragsdale did not address the situation at all even the therapists let this slip.
There were very few staff that genuinely cared and they left because they said there were sketchy things about Eva Carlston they did not want to be around. If you didn’t do something right away you got in trouble and once again you couldn’t speak up about it or you would get in more trouble. we all had to keep our mouths shut in order for anyone to stay safe. Some staff would threaten us with the causes of getting in trouble if we didn’t do something they wanted us too. As well as we were force fed. Basically they said we only had to eat 3 meals but then made us eat 6. They said we didn’t have to eat all of our food but when we didn’t we got in trouble and sat there until we did because otherwise we couldn’t do anything. There were interventions people were put on for eating. Someone had to sit next to you while you ate to make sure that you finished ALL of it even though you were not required too. We were stuck in the house every single day expect for maybe a couple hours on saturday and like an hour on friday. We weren’t aloud to have access to TV, Phone calls, Dessert, free time if we got in trouble, like I said we had to sit in a room and not talk to anybody and write essays because if we didn’t they would take control of that in a very awful manipulative way.
The whole program is manipulative they use sneaky ways to abuse the power that they have which is disgusting. The therapists are not good and they dont really know what they are talking about. The only time we can speak up is in a group but if we speak up to much then we would probably get in way more trouble and if we spoke up about a certain staff in a group that was it, you were in serious shit. Certain staff had very bad boundaries, very touchy would stay way to close to you and once again you couldnt really say much because they would look at that and say oh thats being disrespectful. I have certain trauma things and there was a staff that would run behind people, pretend to hit people and tell people to shut up. We were forced to do everything and it was horrid. The girls are obviously sneaky becasue who wants a staff up your ass all the time Kristi. I dont. Nobody likes it there. I have watched girls breakdown from staff being mean and staff telling them they keep doing this wrong and that they didn’t do this right and why cant you do that better and go do that now or else. They put so much shit on our shoulders that we cant take. We are to young to be doing all of this. They made us get on our hands and knees to mop their floor when I was only there to figure out my work and why I did the things I did. I wasnt there to clean Kristis fuckin house. Clean your own fuckin house, get some maids, you have the fuckin money.
They were sneaky with our money too. there were several times I came back from a homevisit with money and they said they would send it back to my parents and when i asked my parents if it got back to them they said no it was never sent. We got phone calls with our parents for 15 minutes and if we went over they would grab the phone from our hands wether or not we said goodbye.
Overall this place is fucking sneaky and staff dont know what the hell they are doing. They pick favorites and basically say screw everyone else. we were not treated like humans, we were treated dogs. We were told to just say Okay and sit there like a fucking dog. Its disgusting.
The original testimony on Reddit
This testimony was found on Reddit. All rights go to the original author known as Mashed-potatoes69
Hi! Okay I’m new to reddit this is my first post and I REALLY hope I’m doing it right because I have SO much to say. My heart is literally pounding right now. This is going to start off really slow and you might think it’s not that bad but I want to cover everything so bare with me.
Pacific life teen program is owned by the same dude who owns Sunset Bay Academy a wwasp affiliated program, however PLP is a newer program and not a lot of people have spoken out about it (yet). I really feel like something needs to be said. I was 15 when I went. The whole program adversities as a scam. They say 3-6 months but I NEVER saw anyone leave sooner then a year. There were even some kids who were there 2 years. On the site the place looks beautiful, like a hotel. They told my mother that the kids ride horses on the beach, the food is made by a professional chef, there are special tutors for things like math. It was all bullshit. I don’t want to sound like a dick but I don’t think it takes a genius to realize the place looks to good to be true. Boomers will be boomers I guess. The facility is across the street from a cow manure farm it stinks, there is a massive bug problem mainly horse flys that bite and cockroaches the flys also would always land in the food when it was being prepared.
We were barely fed in the first place I went to bed hungry every night. There is mold in the showers and on the floors. There is no hot water we took ice cold showers daily. The rooms are packed with bunk beds it felt like a chicken coop. They had way more beds then comfortable. At least for the girls. My point is the building was unsanitary. When I arrived I was strip searched against my will Very harshly (in front of my peers I will add). I cried the whole time. The staff saw that I wasn’t wearing a bra Im a petite girl and I didn’t really need a bra. Everyday for six months I was pulled aside and I had to show the staff I was wearing bra, and underwear. It was humiliating and gross. We also weren’t allowed to shave our vaginas and they regularly checked. I felt like I had no right to my body.
I was told I would get therapy twice a week by a licensed psychologist. I got therapy maybe once a month and none of the staff were licensed “psychologist” in fact one of the “psychologist” was a 20 year old student intern! The program also claims to help kids with all sorts of issues everything from depression, drug abuse and sex offenders. But the funny thing is they don’t offer any special therapies programs for these issues. Most programs would have drug abuse classes for the kids who have drug abuse problems. Or a group therapy for the kids with mental health issues. There was nothing. Just lots of heavy duty medications and discipline. I was put on lithium after a week of being there. I’m not even bipolar.
Once a week they would bring in shelter horses and we would take pictures on them it was really a promotional thing for social media and for our families. The ordeal lasted maybe 5-10 minutes and then it was back to school. I want to point this out because it goes back to how the program is nothing but a scam. Our schooling was done online. I personally have an IEP which means I need a lot of extra help in regular school I was in special help classes. I was told I was “manipulating” and that I wasn’t trying hard enough. I was even sent to intervention for not doing well enough in math. Intervention was solitary confinement. You were forced to sit in the corner of the room from the time you woke up to the time you went to bed. During this time you weren’t allowed to speak to anyone as well. Sometimes kids were handcuffed, or Hogg tied. The staff often would come in and scream at us if we were crying in there. Crying was considered manipulative. I’m a very sensitive kid and was often in trouble for this.
Sometimes you were in intervention for a few days sometimes a month. I went 7 times. Some of the things reasons include crying, struggling in math, cussing, and having an asthma attack. My mom forget to tell the staff I had asthma and I had an attack my first week I was told I was faking it and was sent. We were forced to do military style workouts everyday and were screamed at and sent to intervention if we couldn’t keep up. One of the worst things that happened when I was there was this kid ran away once and when he came back they stripped him naked, sprayed him down with cold water and hog tied him in intervention for a month. Most of the day to day staff seemed to be on drugs. Only a few of them spoke English. There were so many times Others and myself got in trouble for things that were just a language barrier.
The staff were extremely abusive and sexist. The girls were not allowed to lay down during movie time but the boys were. We were told it would “turn the boys on” if we laid down. We were called names, screamed at and sometimes harshly restrained for no reason to the point where marks were left. I was called stupid almost daily. There was one pedo staff there He told my friend how he was going to “do bad things to her” and how they “were going to be together on the outs”. She was 16. The worst part is I knew I couldn’t tell any of the staff what was going on. They either wouldn’t care, or they would punish me for it.
All of our letters were read before going out and during family skypes the “psychologist” sat there the whole time. I couldn’t tell my parents what was going on even if I wanted to. I finally got a parent visit after six months. My dad works in youth corrections and when he found out they were putting us in solitary he flipped out. They don’t even do that in youth jails unless the kid is actively a danger to themselves or others and it’s only for up to 15 minutes I believe. I’ve never seen my dad cry before but he was disgusted and very angry that I also wasn’t getting therapy. I was pulled out exactly 30 days later that’s how long their process takes. The saddest part about this place Is most of the kids don’t get better. Many of them still struggle with addiction, hate their parents, are in gangs or have legal issues. PLP is toxic. I just want people to made aware of how dangerous this place is.
The original testimony on Reddit
This testimony was made by Laurel A. from Milwaukee on Yelp. Sometime the marketing department of Diamond Ranch Academy cleans up negative review. This testimony was found January 27, 2020
As a high school graduate from Diamond Ranch Academy in Hurricane, UT this was one of the most traumatizing experiences I was ever put through. I was a 4.0 GPA honors student with a clean record prior to being unwillingly sent. In May 2014, I was awoken at 3:00am to two strangers who took me to this boarding school on a red eye flight. I was at this school for roughly 6 months. During the 6 months, I quickly finished my senior year of high school with all A’s. Prior to being sent to DRA, I was actively filling out college applications and taking the ACT’s. At DRA, they did not supply me with tools and resources to apply for college. However, during a visit with my mother I was able to apply to college and later became accepted into a university where I was able to study Pre-Med. Upon arriving to DRA, the study directors mocked me asking me if I was going to walk home and work at McDonald’s. I told them no, I would like to be a scientist. Fast forward five years, I am a scientist for a pharmaceutical company and am pursuing a Master’s of Science in a Engineering.
What DRA did for me: absolutely nothing, they did not provide me with the skill set I needed to apply to college, therapy was a joke, they laugh and mock you, I developed severe anxiety after returning home, I had flashbacks years later, the directors manipulate your parents, they have no opportunities for kids to grow, your child will gain a ton of weight, they are manipulative, rude and mean, they also have teachers that were sex offenders that used to work there.
Please do not send your child there. There are better resources.
The original testimony (Yelp)