Project Description

By Kariana: 2007-2011

I was sent to the Lighthouse as a child under the belief that it was a place of safety, structure, and Christian guidance. I was told it would help me, protect me, and lead me closer to God. What I experienced instead was an environment of control, fear, and abuse that caused lasting harm to my body, mind, and spirit.

From the moment I entered the Lighthouse, I knew something was wrong. The building was unnaturally clean, silent, and rigid. Doors were locked. Codes controlled movement. Every action was monitored. The girls who lived there moved and spoke like they were rehearsed, stripped of individuality and emotion. I was confused and afraid, but confusion and fear were treated as disobedience rather than distress.

Daily life at the Lighthouse was built around absolute compliance. Chapel services were held three times a day—after breakfast, lunch, and dinner. These services were not places of comfort or spiritual growth. They were often followed by public shaming sessions, where girls were called out for their “sins” or “bad behavior” based on reports given by other girls assigned as helpers. Humiliation was normalized. Privacy did not exist.

If a girl stepped out of line, spoke out of turn, or showed emotional distress, punishment followed. One of the most severe forms of punishment was isolation in what was called the “Get Right Room.” This room had no bed, no blanket—only a bare floor and four white walls. A girl placed there was isolated and watched around the clock by other girls. She was only allowed out for bathroom use or chapel, and only with permission. The purpose was not reflection or safety; it was psychological breaking.

Physical restraint was also used. If I resisted, spoke, or reacted while in isolation, staff would twist my arms above my head and force them forward until I lost all feeling in my arms and hands. Pain and restraint were justified as correction. I was taught that my suffering was my fault and that endurance was proof of righteousness.

The Lighthouse claimed to be a Christian institution, but what I witnessed was not faith—it was spiritual abuse. Scripture was used to silence questions. God was used as a threat. Authority figures were never to be questioned. Any attempt to express fear, confusion, or disagreement was framed as rebellion against God Himself.

The staff held total power. Some were cruel. Some were complicit. At least one staff member entrusted with care was later revealed to be a sexual predator. The adults who were meant to protect us either failed to see the abuse or chose to ignore it. Children were not believed. Children were not safe.

Before I arrived at the Lighthouse, I was told by my grandmother that I would be spending the night with her—but “not at her house.” That was the last moment before my autonomy was taken. I was not given a choice. I was not told the truth. I was delivered into an institution that operated through secrecy, fear, and control.

The impact of the Lighthouse did not end when I left. The trauma followed me into adulthood—manifesting in hypervigilance, distrust of authority, confusion around faith, and deep wounds around worth, safety, and autonomy. What was done there altered the way I learned to survive the world.

I am writing this testament not out of bitterness, but out of responsibility. What happened at the Lighthouse was not discipline. It was not treatment. It was not God’s will. It was abuse—emotional, physical, spiritual, and sexual and it was carried out against children who had no power to protect themselves.

I survived the Lighthouse, but survival came at a cost. Telling the truth is part of reclaiming what was taken.

This is my testimony.
This is my truth.
And it deserves to be heard.