Ashley’s Copper Canyon Academy Testimony

I was sixteen years old when I woke up to two people in my room, a retired police officer and beefy woman. I was very confused, I did not have a top on and was only wearing bottoms. The man threw a shirt at me and told me to put it on and that it was time to go. I put the shirt on terrified while trying not to expose myself to two strangers. I stood up and asked who they were when the man threw me to the floor face first because it was “a sign of aggression.” My nose was bleeding into my mouth and he had my hands pinned up behind my back. He dragged me screaming out of my house and into a car with the woman who hasn’t spoken much. They told me they are taking me to a “school” and that my dad has hired them to take me, they called themselves escorts. I was uncontrollably crying and hyperventilating in the car with my own blood smeared on my face and in my hair. They warned me not to run because they would catch me.

Airport security questioned me in my pajamas and blood covered face, but they had documents proving they were allowed to transport me and allowed to treat me this way. Only the woman accompanied me on the airplane. We arrived at the Phoenix airport, I contemplated every form or escape but it was no use. Once in Phoenix, myself and this woman drove a few hours to this “school.” While on stops in her custody, I was not allowed to use the restroom by myself and she had her foot in the door the entire time, it was humiliating.

Once we arrived at this school, I still was incredibly confused, they had a sign that said, “Welcome Ashley.” This is when my six month nightmare begins. I was at Copper Canyon Academy from July 2010-January 2011. This school now goes by Sedona Sky Academy but I am sure the same abuse occurs here as well. They gave me a red shirt to wear and told me I was on level one, I was not to look at or talk to anyone else wearing a red shirt and if I did I would be put in a bright traffic vest referred to as the silence vest and I would be on silence (no talking or looking at anyone) for 24 hours. This school was considered “therapeutic,” but I am twenty-seven now and writing this I am experiencing a visceral emotional response.

In CCA we had this thing called “treatment team” where all of your teachers, staff members and therapists would get into a room and talk about your “progress.” They would all sit in a circle and then you would have to come in and stand in the middle. I want you to picture a teenager where a lot of us came from abusive homes or already had experienced trauma standing in the middle of the room with a circle of adults telling you how manipulative, evil, misbehaved and just bad of a person you are. It breaks you down. I remember sobbing and they just kept going and going. I still don’t understand what the purpose of nonconfidential therapy is after receiving my masters degree in education/counseling. The same staff members on this treatment team could give you “work hours” for the most innocuous thing. I once received a work hour for spinning in a circle. Read that again.

Work hours consisted of moving rocks, pulling weeds, scrubbing toilets (even staff toilets) or cleaning floors with a toothbrush. If you received a work hour you were woken up at 5am to complete it. The staff relished in giving you work hours or non compliant meals (cold rice and beans instead of dinner). They would find reasons to give them to you, things like you coughed on purpose or we’re not walking in a straight enough line. I remember they used to take pictures of us each week to send to our parents, it was a rare occasion to catch me not crying and they would come around with the cameras multiple times and get frustrated if you were crying and would try to force you to smile. I never complied with taking a smiling picture. I remember once I broke out in hives covering my entire stomach and I showed a staff member and she wouldn’t even take me to the nurse. Even though the nurse on campus was not even a registered nurse.

Multiple girls tried to kill them selves while I was there. CCA tries to chalk it up to mental illness but we all know it’s because of the severe emotional, verbal and sometimes physical abuse that we experienced. One day it was one of my roommates last night there, she was getting pulled from the program early. She put her mattress on the floor and pretended to sleep. The night staff came in and started yelling and kicking her repeatedly. Imagine being repeatedly kicked by an adult while you lay on the floor for a harmless prank. I watched from my bunk bed above in disbelief. I tried to talk to the owner of the school and he did nothing. If you had a grievance against a staff member you could put it in this little box but every time they addressed it (after months) they would tell you that you are lying. The staff always viewed us as liars, I remember this girl “lied” about having sex before during group therapy only to find out she was raped. The staff found out and made her apologize to the entire house for lying, she did this standing in front of all of us saying no she hasn’t had sex but was raped. Imagine having to tell an entire house of people you were raped and also being shamed for “lying” about it by adults.

I remember I became friends with another girl in the program and staff deemed us a “clique” so we were put on a three week silence (means no talking or looking at each other). They purposely severed any positive connections that you could make. It was a process to break you and emotionally isolate you. The staff would tell your parents that you would try to manipulate them and lie about the program. Our parents believed them over us, it taught us to trust no one. We had no form of unmonitored contact with our parents so it didn’t matter much anyway.

After years of being told I was over dramatic about my experience or that I deserved to be sent there or it fixed me. It is both so validating and overwhelming to have this finally come to public light. I have so much more to say but not much more energy to do it today so I will continue on at another time, but I will leave with this journal entry I wrote when I was seventeen years old and at CCA. Journal entry on 10/07/10 keep in mind that I had just been at CCA for just three months when I wrote this.

This is how quickly it deteriorated my mental state. “Okay this is getting bad, I think I’m depressed. But no adults listen to me. It doesn’t matter. I’m just gonna fall deeper and deeper into it. Today I literally just started crying for no reason or a little reason. It doesn’t matter. Earlier I just wanted to die. I just imagined myself floating in darkness, feeling no pain and just being happy, I wouldn’t have to worry about Earth’s limitations. I swear I have two voices in my head and I can feel the tears behind my eyes right now. I swear I’m getting slower. It’s now impossible to be happy on my own unless someone is purposefully making me okay. I’m not okay. I know it’s not okay to want to die but it doesn’t change that I want to. It just sounds so much better. I just want to go to sleep and not wake up but there’s still a part of me that wants to keep on going, I just wonder how long it will take till that part is completely gone. Because this state of mind gets worse everyday. I remember the day I realized this was happening. I won’t go on meds for it. This place did this to me. I let it.”