Living Through “The Program”
THE program
You know that feeling when you think you've overcome something, only to have it resurface unexpectedly? Your body and mind are drawn away from the present and into memories from the past, which at times, have been too painful for you to acknowledge as what they truly are - trauma. That's been my experience after a surprising call from my sister about a Netflix documentary on the "school" I attended for 22.5 months from ages 13 to 15. Ivy Ridge taught me about systems, structure, and the resilience of the human brain and spirit. It’s weirdly where I became spiritual and community focused, it’s where I learned to dream…
Although, I never could have imagined a reality where talking freely isn't allowed, where walking in lines and earning points to communicate with my family and a get a weekly candy bar become the norm. The Program, as it was called, turned out to be a scam for all involved - students, parents, and even some staff. We were all victims of an organization ironically called WWASPS, and societal misconceptions about troubled teens.
Instead of addressing underlying family issues, the approach was to manipulate and humiliate us. My dad, grappling with his own challenges after losing his wife and navigating a blended family, made the mistake of sending me there. Initially, I held resentment towards him, but I later understood how his decisions stemmed from generational and systemic patterns.
Raising awareness about survivors' realities, especially regarding mental health misdiagnoses and the misuse/overuse of the word “trauma” to describe discomfort, is crucial. In order for people to receive assistance, there must be a framework defining what trauma truly entails, what CPTSD looks like, and how it deprives individuals of happiness and peace.
FINDING MYSELF IN THE SHADOWS
I filled the silence with written words in scheduled journaling time, even though I knew they'd be closely scrutinized by the staff. I mastered the art of writing in code, drawing inspiration from passages in my older sister's censored letters to create fictional romances and dramas. Sneaking books into the dorm and losing myself in the pages helped maintain my sanity. I remember vividly when Dumbledore died because an alarm was triggered in the girls dorm that night, meaning we had approximately 10 seconds to be OUT of bed and in formation in the hall. Try hiding a book that size in that short of time. And then standing in the hallway anxiously waiting for the night staff to figure out why your mattress was lopsided.
Everything became strategic. Finding moments of connection with your crush (who’d you’d never actually spoken to) from the boys' side by deliberately making a dramatic pivot around the corner, ensuring your shoes squeaked and skirt swished just enough to catch their eye. It involved admitting to things you hadn't actually done to reach level 4-6 (upper levels) to qualify for the Winter Music Show. It meant mastering the art of passing notes inside of pens to friends in other families without disrupting the facility's pen count. Because if one went missing, we ALL got strip searched.
Despite encountering situations that left my nervous system in a perpetual state of "flight," I've learned to navigate circumstances I never would have encountered back in Leesburg, VA. I met people from across the country, and from around the world, each with unique stories and backgrounds.
It’s why I care about creating safe spaces.
Even though Ivy Ridge was not the community I craved at that age, it taught me the significance of being in close proximity to individuals who experienced things my barely teen brain could have never imagined. It's why I was driven to figure out the other parts of myself that existed before the trauma. It’s why I’m driven towards healing work. And most importantly, it's shown me that at my core, the sweetest parts of me have always been the same. While I have mixed emotions about how this statement came to be, here is something I wrote around month 9/22.5 at age 14:
"I'm a gorgeous, pure, honest and confident young woman and my purpose is to be real while following the beat of my heart"
Listen, I hated that place. But what can we do when life throws us into intense situations beyond our control? Sometimes things are too overwhelming, but when we can look at the global landscape - every corner of the planet is riddled with some level of suffering. Acknowledging that much trauma shares systemic themes doesn't diminish our individual experiences, it brings us closer to community. Amidst adversity, communities arise, offering protection, safety, love, and understanding even in the most improbable circumstances. Discovering safe spaces and a sense of belonging allows creative, loving and powerful aspects of ourselves to surface.
Which parts of yourself might you have overlooked amidst life's experiences? How can you illuminate those beautiful aspects? How could bringing those to a community setting help and inspire others?
