My name is Rebecca and in 2008, when I was 16 years old, I was sent to Carolina Springs Academy, located in Donald’s, South Carolina. I lived there for a year.
We lived in a point based system. We could earn around 25 points a day but they set us up to call one another out for rule violations, which resulted in loss of points. Breaking Code Silence was a ‘Category 2’ violation, which meant a loss of 25 points. A loss of 25 points was a day added to your stay. Points were needed to vote up to different levels and with each level came different privileges. There were 6 levels total. Upper levels had to “vote up” so even if they earned enough points, the majority still had to be in favor of them. Once you landed level 4 (1600 points) you were an official upper level which meant you’re essentially staff.
Upper levels “on shift” had to “call out” their peers for violations all day long and even walked outside the line to look for violations. If we were not accountable they “staffed it” which meant we lost double the points of the category violation plus you landed yourself in worksheets. Worksheets were hours of the same essay topics over and over again. If you didn’t comply with worksheets that was a 206NFD not following directions, another CAT2, loss of 25 points. Breaking three of the same violations was a CAT4, insubordination, which means if you earned any levels you now lost those privileges. Coming in as a level 1 you got nothing but a pleated skirt uniform and some knee high socks. No looking, no touching, NO BREAKING SILENCE.
Privileges included being able to shave, waking up at 4:45am for first dibs on a 7 minute freezing cold shower, and a 15 to 20 minute (monitored) phone call with your parents and only your parents. If you said the “wrong” thing (for example “there’s no hot water” or “I’m being abused”) the phone call was cut short, your parents were told you were manipulating to come home and you got a correction. Some violations included breathing too loud, not looking straight ahead, looking out of a window, writing, unsatisfactory uniform, sitting with your heels off the ground, a wrinkle in your bedding and our bed rails were checked daily for dust. We had only a laundry basket to keep our uniform and shoes in which were also checked daily.

We washed our clothes once a week. We slept in yellow sweat outfits. We needed permission to spit, fix our hair, use the bathroom, to talk, to use somebody’s name while talking, to stand, to sit, to basically do anything. If you were a lower level you needed permission to “call someone out” and a chaperone when speaking with other lower levels. There was absolutely no touching, no hugs, no holding hands, not even a poke. Our every move was controlled. Prison inmates have more rights then we did.

We had the same schedule every day. We walked in straight lines and counted through doors. We sat on floors. We used the bathroom/shower with the door open. There was no privacy or hot water so our 7 minute showers were exposed and freezing.

We were force fed everyday until early 2009 when we were then starved. We ate in silence. Not finishing the food on your plate, which was expired food, was a meal violation. Walking in a straight line to and from the cafeteria was the only time we spent outside. Once some girls and I were walking back to the dorms late at night and we got to see something we haven’t in months and years: stars in the sky. We broke major violations when we decided to lay in the gravel holding hands to look at them. We lived, grieved, loved and broke rules in silence.

Looking at a boy was a major violation! When the boys were near we were to turn around with our backs facing them to let them pass,which felt totally degrading. They were allowed to look at me though when I was told to dress up and dance solo to the song “Lady In Red” in a room full of boys and male staff who were strangers to me. I had to start the song over 3 times because I was told the first 2 times “weren’t good enough”.

During my 3rd and final attempt I fell to my knees and did some crazy stuff with my hands in my hair. I was desperate, scared and mortified. I got a standing ovation and thank goodness because me getting out of the program depended on it. “Lady in Red” was my last “process” in the ‘Focus’ seminar and I needed to graduate ‘Focus’ in order to keep my level and points so I could vote up and go home.

Seminars were days of consecutive brainwash techniques and emotional abuse that were mandatory every 6 weeks or so. If we didn’t complete the processes well enough it was called “choosing out” of seminar which meant 6 more weeks were added on to your stay. Another 6 weeks until you got the opportunity to complete the seminar. We were sleep and food deprived during these seminars which took place in a garage. They made me beat the concrete floor with a towel that was duct taped together and when that fell apart I was told to continue using my fist, so I did, until that swelled up 3 times its size and I had to sit out for the rest of that process and received no medical attention. Sexual abuse victims were slut shamed. We were told “based on your results you got exactly what you intended”. They told us we deserved it.

They put us in “fight for your life” and “every man for themselves” scenarios. They had us scream why we deserve to live over one another all while screaming over each other. Then, we were given only 3 “live votes”. I could only choose 3 people in the whole room who I thought deserved to live over everyone else. We were forced to look our closest friends in the eye and tell them that they deserve to die. After killing off all of my friends I wound up having the most “live” votes in the room. 3 people in the whole room got to live; I was one of them and I had to kill off my peers to get there. Then, they were forced to tell me one by one what their “last words” to their families were. Then, we had to lay in pretend coffins and imagine we were at our own funerals. It was horrific. The things that happened in that garage still haunt me.

The biggest scam is the “school” part itself. There is no school or teachers. It’s a trailer filled with outdated textbooks where we self taught ourselves in silence. We basically had to memorize the textbooks and pass 3 tests a week or it was academic probation and you were stripped of your privileges. And on top of it all Carolina Springs Academy wasn’t even accredited and I had to get my G.E.D. after returning home.

At any time for any reason staff could physically restrain you and throw you in something we called “OP” (observational placement) which was basically solitary confinement where you were alone in a small square shed-like thing where staff could watch you, or beat you, or do whatever they wanted until whenever they wanted. You could hear the screams coming from OP when walking in our straight line to the cafeteria.

Staff was NOT properly trained and refused any medical/professional treatment to me and my peers. One of my sisters was having a seizure and we were threatened for trying to help her when staff wouldn’t. Staff told us it was the devil. She needed medical attention right away but instead was called the devil. I was scared to death for her. Staff gave me CAT5s for my trichotillomania which was an automatic loss of level straight back to level 1 in worksheets. I was shamed and outcast for my disorder and was denied any real professional treatment. One of my sisters who struggled with bulimia was also denied any real professional treatment and was also shamed and outcast every single day. Staff made us strip off our clothes and stand outside in the cold as punishment. Staff turned off the heat in the dead of winter because “we didn’t deserve heat”. Staff sexually abused my sisters knowing no one would believe us. I was sexually harassed verbally by a male staff member day in and day out and when I came home he sexually harassed me in my inbox.

Me and two other girls had to scrub semen off the walls and toilets and THAT was considered a “privilege”. As embarrassing as it is, at the time it felt like a privilege to scrub semen off walls in order to get away from our everyday torture routine.

Academy owner Narvin himself brought me and other upper levels out to dinner at a hibachi as some publicity stunt and then back to his house where we were scared to death. He also stopped paying Sysco, our expired food supplier, and we were then starved along with the horses and cows who died. There were dead horses and cows all over the property. Staff forced us to lie to desperate parents about how much the program is helping us and how they should send their kid here. If we didn’t that was a CAT3, BRV, which cost you 50 points.

I witnessed girls being restrained by male staff. I witnessed their beds being tipped over with them in it by male staff. I witnessed staff use restraints on both the hands and feet on a female student, they basically tied her to a bed by all fours, with a spit guard on her face for hours. They would take photos to send back to our parents to make it look like things were normal, for example hugging a friend which normally was strictly not allowed.

No one knew when they were going home. We weren’t allowed to say or wave goodbye or share any personal information like phone numbers. We were to have no contact with each other in the real world. My mom eventually found out Carolina Springs was under investigation with DSS and she came and got me while my “family rep” tried to stop her. I was pulled out of the program as a level 5 voting up to 6. Coming home I experienced a ginormous culture shock. We didn’t have TVs, newspapers, current events, music, or going outdoors in the program. We were completely disconnected from the world. I missed the Phillies win the World Series, I had no idea who our President Obama was, what Facebook was, who I was. I cried when I heard music again. The feeling of finally being able to walk out the door and up the street freely is one I cannot put into words. I used to walk aimlessly for miles when I got home. Things like speaking without needing permission, taking a warm shower, sitting in a chair, closing a door, looking outside of a window, it all felt so different and weird and I had no one to talk to about it. I was silenced.

Today I am sharing my experience with the hope it will stop another child from being sent away to another unregulated, non accredited, abusive facility.

Carolina Springs Academy has changed their name more times than I can keep up with. Owner Narvin even changed his name to Marvin. He would advertise his children as students by posting their photos on his “Specialty Boarding School for Troubled Teens” webpages. Programs just like Carolina Springs Academy are still open all over the world and operating off of lies and deceit to this day! This needs to stop and these programs need to be shut down! Our trauma IS VALID!