I would like to present a new proposition to my city. I would like to somehow start a sport program that aims at helping abused children as well as less fortunate children to get positive outlooks on life. With the help of sports, as well as positive peers, I think it would end up being a very healthy, yet therapeutic, way to help kids. My goals for the program that I would like to proposition my city with are as follows;
-Encourage Athleticism
-Provide Positive Peers
-Instill Self-esteem, Dedication, Self-value, and Team Work
-Create a Drug Free Zone
-Show Children The Meaning of Giving Back to the Community
Through creating a program like that, I think it would help cut down on early drug use, violence, and help encourage more kids to become strong, positive members of our community. I plan to talk to several city officials, schools, and the college in our area to help start this program.
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Sunday, April 1, 2012
My Little Family
Me and Our Youngest
Me and Our Two Daughters
Me (left) and My Amazing Partner Beckie (right)
Life Now And My Plans
Today I am a strong, independent person. I am proud to have survived everything that I have faced in life. I am a survivor. Through this blog as well as several other things, I plan to spread my story to as many people as possible. I know that I am not alone. There are thousands of other survivors like me. Institutional abuse is nothing new. I don't know what every other survivor is doing today, but I know that I am living my life to the fullest. I work hard to raise awareness of both child abuse abuse, as well as institutional abuse. What is my life goal as far as raising awareness? I hope to help stop abuse, as well as provide children with options. I want to show children that went through or are going through abuse that change is possible. I want to provide them with a positive outlook on life and show them that just because you went through abuse, you can grow up to be anyone that you want to be.
Presently, I am putting myself through college. I am majoring in Criminal Justice. I plan to get a degree. I want to work for the local police or sheriff department. My goal has always been to help people. Law enforcement has become something that I would love to do. I know that sometime in my future career as a law enforcement officer, I will be faced with someone that needs someone to show them that there is hope. I want to be living proof that you can go through some of the worse situations in life, but turn around and become the best person that you can be.
As I mentioned in my last post, I am in a great relationship with Beckie. We have two daughter. I want to be there for my girls in a positive way. I am completely opposite of my parents. I NEVER want to be the kind of parents that they were. Every day life is about being different, and living life as best as I can.
Presently, I am putting myself through college. I am majoring in Criminal Justice. I plan to get a degree. I want to work for the local police or sheriff department. My goal has always been to help people. Law enforcement has become something that I would love to do. I know that sometime in my future career as a law enforcement officer, I will be faced with someone that needs someone to show them that there is hope. I want to be living proof that you can go through some of the worse situations in life, but turn around and become the best person that you can be.
As I mentioned in my last post, I am in a great relationship with Beckie. We have two daughter. I want to be there for my girls in a positive way. I am completely opposite of my parents. I NEVER want to be the kind of parents that they were. Every day life is about being different, and living life as best as I can.
Life After New Beginnings Girls Academy
After finally getting out of New Beginnings, life was just not the same. I was eighteen years old. I went back home to my moms house for exactly twenty-nine days. During those twenty-nine days, things were so different. My mom acted like she had never hit me before in her life. She didn't raise a hand at me at all. I'm sure it was because I was finally the age where I could press charges or be extremely successful at defending myself. I found an apartment and a job and moved out after twenty-nine days.
Living on my own was a big change, especially after being in New Beginnings. I hardly knew what do do with myself. I was usually lonely as well as depressed. I started hanging out a lot at a cafe downtown that had a lot of live music. Heavy metal bands would come in on weekends and there would be a lot of people there my age. I started making friends both at the cafe and at the job I was working at. Between working forty hours a week and the cafe, I made several new friends. It was a nice change for me.
Even though life was looking up, I was still dealing with extreme depression. I thought moving would help. I left Florida and moved to New York. After New York, I moved to Texas. After Texas, I moved to Tennessee. After Tennessee, I moved to Utah. That was all in the span of about a year and a half. Utah was the place were I finally settled down. I started working forty to sixty hours a week between two jobs. I had my own apartment as well. I ended up letting one of my friends become my roommate. We started partying a lot and drinking a lot. It was a lot of fun. I was STILL dealing with depression a lot, but I didn't want to go to a doctor for it. My plans were to enlist in the Military.
About a year and a half after living in Utah, I met Beckie. She was perfect for me! She was sweet, understanding, loving, caring, and she was supportive of me. We fell in love, moved in together, and later on she purposed to me. I said yes! However, my nightmares and flashbacks continued to get worse. They got to the point where they were out of control. She talked me into seeing a doctor. I ended up going. It was probably one of the best things that I ever did. Like I had suspected, I was diagnosed with depression. I was also diagnosed with PTSD. A lot of the PTSD had to do with the feelings of isolation, helplessness, and terror I faced daily at New Beginnings. She told me that between between my childhood and being sent to New Beginnings, it was amazing that I was still holding myself together. Before my diagnoses that day, I went into detail about hearing my friends screams and knowing I couldn't help them, the fear I felt, and about the home in general. She was stunned. She stated that the home was a bad place and it needed to be shut down. After over two and a half years after the home, I finally got the help I needed.
Today I am on medications to help me deal with the PTSD and depression. This blog has become extremely therapeutic for me, as well as a great way to share my story. It's been a difficult journey, but somehow I lived through it all. I am thankful to have met Beckie. Today we are still together, and I'm happier than I have ever been. We have two amazing daughters, and I do my best everyday to be the best parent that I can be.
Later this month on April, 30th, I will be twenty-one. I am looking forward to twenty-one so much because I can finally start applying to police departments, as well as get a hand gun. I do not plan on getting drunk on my birthday. I feel that even though I will be legal to drink, I don't feel that my kids should see me drunk.
Living on my own was a big change, especially after being in New Beginnings. I hardly knew what do do with myself. I was usually lonely as well as depressed. I started hanging out a lot at a cafe downtown that had a lot of live music. Heavy metal bands would come in on weekends and there would be a lot of people there my age. I started making friends both at the cafe and at the job I was working at. Between working forty hours a week and the cafe, I made several new friends. It was a nice change for me.
Even though life was looking up, I was still dealing with extreme depression. I thought moving would help. I left Florida and moved to New York. After New York, I moved to Texas. After Texas, I moved to Tennessee. After Tennessee, I moved to Utah. That was all in the span of about a year and a half. Utah was the place were I finally settled down. I started working forty to sixty hours a week between two jobs. I had my own apartment as well. I ended up letting one of my friends become my roommate. We started partying a lot and drinking a lot. It was a lot of fun. I was STILL dealing with depression a lot, but I didn't want to go to a doctor for it. My plans were to enlist in the Military.
About a year and a half after living in Utah, I met Beckie. She was perfect for me! She was sweet, understanding, loving, caring, and she was supportive of me. We fell in love, moved in together, and later on she purposed to me. I said yes! However, my nightmares and flashbacks continued to get worse. They got to the point where they were out of control. She talked me into seeing a doctor. I ended up going. It was probably one of the best things that I ever did. Like I had suspected, I was diagnosed with depression. I was also diagnosed with PTSD. A lot of the PTSD had to do with the feelings of isolation, helplessness, and terror I faced daily at New Beginnings. She told me that between between my childhood and being sent to New Beginnings, it was amazing that I was still holding myself together. Before my diagnoses that day, I went into detail about hearing my friends screams and knowing I couldn't help them, the fear I felt, and about the home in general. She was stunned. She stated that the home was a bad place and it needed to be shut down. After over two and a half years after the home, I finally got the help I needed.
Today I am on medications to help me deal with the PTSD and depression. This blog has become extremely therapeutic for me, as well as a great way to share my story. It's been a difficult journey, but somehow I lived through it all. I am thankful to have met Beckie. Today we are still together, and I'm happier than I have ever been. We have two amazing daughters, and I do my best everyday to be the best parent that I can be.
Later this month on April, 30th, I will be twenty-one. I am looking forward to twenty-one so much because I can finally start applying to police departments, as well as get a hand gun. I do not plan on getting drunk on my birthday. I feel that even though I will be legal to drink, I don't feel that my kids should see me drunk.
Why I Got Sent To New Beginnings Girls Academy
As I said in my former post, my mom was extremely abusive. At fifteen years old, I was at that part in life where you are figuring out more about yourself. I realized finally that I was a lesbian. I had no interest in boys, and I never had. I liked to do all the stuff boys did though. Trucks, mudd, bikes, sports, etc. was what I loved to do. It took me a while, but I realized that as long as I could remember I was more attracted to girls, not boys. When I finally figured it out, it was like a sigh of relief. I always thought that something was wrong with me. I didn't know about gay and lesbian people until around fourteen. When I placed all the pieces of the puzzle together, it all made sense. I had always had crushes on babysitters as a kid, but never thought it was different. For once, I felt normal.
One night my mom was throwing stuff on the counter at me and screaming. I was getting frustrated with it. Finally, I yelled out in anger. I told her, "I would hit you, but I don't hit girls. I LIKE GIRLS!!!!!!" The look on her face was priceless. She just froze. She told me to go to my room in this weirdly calm voice.
After coming out to my mom, I realized that she is EXTREMELY homophobic. She wouldn't let me to talk to girls, go anywhere, anything. She told me that I was sick, that I had a chemical imbalance in the head. She would scream that I needed "help." She made my life absolutely miserable. She started looking into programs that could "make me better." Not long after her search began, she stumbled upon New Beginnings Girls Academy. She was more than happy to send me there where they could "change" me.
One night my mom was throwing stuff on the counter at me and screaming. I was getting frustrated with it. Finally, I yelled out in anger. I told her, "I would hit you, but I don't hit girls. I LIKE GIRLS!!!!!!" The look on her face was priceless. She just froze. She told me to go to my room in this weirdly calm voice.
After coming out to my mom, I realized that she is EXTREMELY homophobic. She wouldn't let me to talk to girls, go anywhere, anything. She told me that I was sick, that I had a chemical imbalance in the head. She would scream that I needed "help." She made my life absolutely miserable. She started looking into programs that could "make me better." Not long after her search began, she stumbled upon New Beginnings Girls Academy. She was more than happy to send me there where they could "change" me.
Life As A Child
My childhood for as long as I can remember was extremely traumatic. Around the age of one or two, my dad began sexually abusing me. That continued until the age of twelve. I remember feelings of fear, anger, depression, terror, sadness, and hopelessness. I couldn't understand why it was happening. My mom actually walked in on it happening on one occasion. I was eight years old. Instead of calling police, she grabbed me up by my arm and drug me from the barn to the house. Once we reached the house, she told me to go read my Bible. I thought maybe then she would FINALLY get me some help. Instead, nothing changed. The abuse continued. My mom was physically abusive and mentally abusive. My dad continued to be sexually abusive. Around the age of nine, I sank into a deep depression. I felt trapped. My parents belonged to a church, Meade Ministries, and we were not home schooled. The church name was recently changed to Mountain Top Ministries INC. They have always been against police officers, paramedics, doctors, public school, military enlistment, and many other things along those lines. We were not supposed to talk to people outside of the church, so there was no help for me. I felt like there was no chance of getting help, no chance of anything changing, and no hope. As I sank deeper into depression, I withdrew from everyone in the church, as well as my family.
Around the age of eleven or twelve, my dad left my mom. He moved out and the sexual abuse finally stopped. Shortly before my thirteenth birthday, my dad was arrested on drug charges. He committed suicide in the local jail. There were no repercussions for the abuse he inflicted on me as well as my younger sister. While I was relieved that the sexual abuse would finally be over, I became more sad that I lost my dad. Although he was an abuser, he was also a completely different person. I could literally watch him switch from the nice dad to the abuser in a matter of seconds. It was like his whole personality would change as he switched to his abusive side. When he wasn't in his abusive faze, he was a great dad. There were fishing trips, mountain biking trips, and a lot of other fun things. I think that was the most confusing part of it all. I missed the good guy my dad was, but his bad side haunted me. When my mom told me that he had committed suicide, I broke down crying. It was a cry of mourning, as well as a cry of relief.
After his death, my mom became more physically and mentally abusive. There were many days that I just wondered if I would even make it through. When I was enrolled in public school for the first time, I was a freshman in high school. After one bad night of extreme abuse from my mom, I planned to just run away. I went to school the next morning like always. My first class that day was algebra. I was sitting in class planning my escape when my teacher noticed my bruises. She confronted me about the bruises, but I was scared to talk. She called the office and told them. After that, she sent me to the office where principals and sheriffs were waiting. They pretty much had to drag the truth out of me about what was going on at home, but once I started talking it all came out. The sheriffs took me from the school and placed me in the local safe house. Shortly after arriving there, the Florida Department of Child Services came in. They started taking statements and taking pictures of wounds. I was transferred to the closer high school at that location. One day at the new high school, a DCF worker came and picked me up. She took me to a hospital where they started measuring scars and doing and extensive investigation.
I was in that program protecting children for a long time. I was eventually released after a long time. My mom continued on with what she had been doing before the DCF intervention. Things at home got worse. One one night, I saw her try to hang herself with the vacuum cord. She was saying something about how she was going to hell and she might as well get there quicker. It was scary to see her do that. Thankfully, my grandma was there and stopped her. I started taking anything she could use for suicide to my closet, as well as all medication that I found.
After seeing the suicide attempt, I lost it. I couldn't stick around that house anymore. I started running away a lot. Eventually I was gone for months on end with a great family that loved me. They were nice to me, took care of me, and were the family that I never really had. I became part of there family while I was missing. I loved them a lot, and never wanted to go back home. Eventually I turned myself in for missing thinking maybe they would get custody of me. They were willing to take custody, but my mom wouldn't give it up. She said they were creeps. She hated them. I could never figure out why, but after a while I realized that she hated them because they loved me.
After going back to my mom's house, things continued to get even worse. She eventually took me into the DCF office and told them that she didn't want me anymore. She wanted the state to take me. They told her that if they took me, they would also take my younger sister. Only because she didn't want to give up my little sister, she changed her mind.
Around the age of eleven or twelve, my dad left my mom. He moved out and the sexual abuse finally stopped. Shortly before my thirteenth birthday, my dad was arrested on drug charges. He committed suicide in the local jail. There were no repercussions for the abuse he inflicted on me as well as my younger sister. While I was relieved that the sexual abuse would finally be over, I became more sad that I lost my dad. Although he was an abuser, he was also a completely different person. I could literally watch him switch from the nice dad to the abuser in a matter of seconds. It was like his whole personality would change as he switched to his abusive side. When he wasn't in his abusive faze, he was a great dad. There were fishing trips, mountain biking trips, and a lot of other fun things. I think that was the most confusing part of it all. I missed the good guy my dad was, but his bad side haunted me. When my mom told me that he had committed suicide, I broke down crying. It was a cry of mourning, as well as a cry of relief.
After his death, my mom became more physically and mentally abusive. There were many days that I just wondered if I would even make it through. When I was enrolled in public school for the first time, I was a freshman in high school. After one bad night of extreme abuse from my mom, I planned to just run away. I went to school the next morning like always. My first class that day was algebra. I was sitting in class planning my escape when my teacher noticed my bruises. She confronted me about the bruises, but I was scared to talk. She called the office and told them. After that, she sent me to the office where principals and sheriffs were waiting. They pretty much had to drag the truth out of me about what was going on at home, but once I started talking it all came out. The sheriffs took me from the school and placed me in the local safe house. Shortly after arriving there, the Florida Department of Child Services came in. They started taking statements and taking pictures of wounds. I was transferred to the closer high school at that location. One day at the new high school, a DCF worker came and picked me up. She took me to a hospital where they started measuring scars and doing and extensive investigation.
I was in that program protecting children for a long time. I was eventually released after a long time. My mom continued on with what she had been doing before the DCF intervention. Things at home got worse. One one night, I saw her try to hang herself with the vacuum cord. She was saying something about how she was going to hell and she might as well get there quicker. It was scary to see her do that. Thankfully, my grandma was there and stopped her. I started taking anything she could use for suicide to my closet, as well as all medication that I found.
After seeing the suicide attempt, I lost it. I couldn't stick around that house anymore. I started running away a lot. Eventually I was gone for months on end with a great family that loved me. They were nice to me, took care of me, and were the family that I never really had. I became part of there family while I was missing. I loved them a lot, and never wanted to go back home. Eventually I turned myself in for missing thinking maybe they would get custody of me. They were willing to take custody, but my mom wouldn't give it up. She said they were creeps. She hated them. I could never figure out why, but after a while I realized that she hated them because they loved me.
After going back to my mom's house, things continued to get even worse. She eventually took me into the DCF office and told them that she didn't want me anymore. She wanted the state to take me. They told her that if they took me, they would also take my younger sister. Only because she didn't want to give up my little sister, she changed her mind.
Saturday, March 31, 2012
The New Beginnings Girls Academy Abuse
New Beginnings Girls Academy is the girl's home that I was placed in by my mom. Every day I was faced with the difficult challenge of getting through just one more day. Their website and application form offers what most Christian parents looking for a place for their child like. New Beginnings advertises that they teach things such as; emphasising the student's spiritual needs, that through Jesus Christ the student can overcome addictions, mend broken relationships, and get their lives on the right path. They also state that they offer a place of refuge that allows their students to get away from the negative influences on their life and offer the student a "new beginning." They claim that their program offers a combination of spiritual guidance, Biblical teaching, and a healthy, loving atmosphere to help develop character and provide a foundation for confronting the many complex decisions in "growing up." What they don't say is ANYTHING about what the home is really like. They don't bother to mention their ways of dealing with issues, how they enforce their religion, and how they prevent the student from anything outside the home such as abuse hot lines, doctors, dentists, etc.
The truth about New Beginnings is that they are an Independent Fundamental Baptist girl's home.
They literally force their beliefs on the students of New Beginnings. I know because I was in New Beginnings Girls Academy. Every day we were constantly drilled on Bible verses, required to read our Bibles at ALL times, and forced to become "born again" or face the wrath of the McNamara's and other staff. Bill McNamara, the owner of the home, would scream in our faces about how we were going to hell, our families were going to hell because of us, we were sinners, we were unclean, and many other things. Bill McNamara is the leader of the home as well as his wife, Jennifer McNamara. During my stay of two and a half years, the most staff members we ever had at one time were three. Usually it was only one staff member to ever fifteen to twenty girls. The McNamara's were really obsessed with anything to do with sex, sexual orientation, or anything else sex-related. I can remember several separate instances of Bill McNamara coming into our dorm and saying, "It smells like sin in the camp." What he was referring to was that him he could smell masturbation had been going on. I never did see anyone masturbating, but still, he was obsessed with that. One different time when he was doing what they referred to as "chapel" he made us all bow our heads and raise our hands if we were virgins. What did he need to know that for? What was his purpose of asking? Why did he really need to know? It was just many things like that that we were faced with constantly.
I was one of the very few that came in as an open, out lesbian. I did not hide my sexuality. On my arrival to New Beginnings Girls Academy, life became extremely hard for me. I was constantly watched and it was assumed that I would get a girlfriend their. Bro Mac (as we were supposed to call Bill McNamara) preached at me numerous times screaming about homosexuality being "nasty" and "gross." On one occasion I remember him conducting chapel. That night he was running around the cafeteria and screaming like a wild man and throwing tomatoes as he screams about hell. He literally got his face as close as he could to mine and screamed at me for being a "fag." He screamed that he would "never let no girl lay lips on me" and how nasty I was. Him and his wife focused on bringing me down each and every day to break me down into the perfect little Baptist that they wanted me to be. I can't tell you how many thousands of tears ran down my face during those long two and a half years. I was brought down by the McNamaras and staff there to feel as if I was unloved, unwanted, a "nasty fag", ungrateful, and cast away by my own mom. They said they were breaking me down to make me a better person, but they were really just breaking me down to break down everything about me including my self esteem, love for myself, and expectancy of ever becoming anyone in this world.
When I wasn't "right with God" according to them, they would put me as well as many other girls on "discipline." Discipline was one of the many cruel forms of torture there. We were all required to stand facing the for hours. We had to stand with our toes to the floor board and just stare literally only a couple inches, if that, away from the wall. At meals, were were not allowed any condiments such as salt, pepper, ketchup, mustard, mayo, etc. We were also not allowed desserts, anything other than water, and many other things. We were the last to be able to go to the bathroom on bathroom breaks, not allowed to speak a word (unless Bible related) for a week, and many other things like that. Life was miserable. Discipline lasted a week usually unless you got over ten demerits, or Bill McNamara decided you needed to stay on longer. How someone got on discipline was really easy. We were on a merit system, and every little thing could result in a demerit. Leaving your brush out, not having your hair perfect, not making your bed perfect, being late out of the timed five minute shower, being late in line, not eating everything on your plate, talking, not reading your Bible, and so many more things resulted in demerits.
Life off of discipline was not very much better. We were not allowed to talk at all to each other unless it was "Friday Fun Night." Only then, on Friday nights, were we allowed to talk to each other. If they noticed that you were getting "too close" to someone, as in becoming too good of friends with someone there, they would automatically place you on "separation" from that person. Separation meant that you could not look at, talk to (when allowed to talk), comment off of, take anything from, give anything to, etc that person that you were separated from. Their main goal was to make you feel like you were alone by isolating you from anything familiar. We were not allowed to talk about our past at all. Phone calls were allowed one time every two weeks for fifteen minutes each. We could not call out, our parents had to call us. If we were to tell our parents that we were not okay, something was wrong, or anything else "negative" about the home, the staff would automatically discontinue the call. We were allowed to write letters every Friday. The letter was required to be a page and a half. Those were heavily monitored. Anything at all showing that you were unhappy was threw away. Letters mailed in to us were also read. If anything talked about our past, friends, or anything, they would throw them away and not tell us. Our parents could only visit once every six months for three days. To get a visit, you had to be in the home for six months and be going along with the program to Bill McNamaras satisfaction. If you "weren't right with God," still upset about being there, or a threat to them that you might run away, you would not get a visit no matter how long you were there. Life was hard.
The home was on 24/7 lock down. We could not leave anywhere even if we wanted or needed to. If a door didn't have a lock on the inside, staff or extremely trusted girls would have to sit or stand in front of it. We called that "posting." If anyone came close to the door, the person posting was allowed to hit them or do whatever it took to get them and prevent them from running. I can't tell you how many times I would sit there wondering if I would ever get to leave the home.
Information containing what the home advertises was taken off of New Beginnings Girls Academy (now called New Beginnings Ministries) official website, http://www.nbministriesmo.com/main.html
The truth about New Beginnings is that they are an Independent Fundamental Baptist girl's home.
They literally force their beliefs on the students of New Beginnings. I know because I was in New Beginnings Girls Academy. Every day we were constantly drilled on Bible verses, required to read our Bibles at ALL times, and forced to become "born again" or face the wrath of the McNamara's and other staff. Bill McNamara, the owner of the home, would scream in our faces about how we were going to hell, our families were going to hell because of us, we were sinners, we were unclean, and many other things. Bill McNamara is the leader of the home as well as his wife, Jennifer McNamara. During my stay of two and a half years, the most staff members we ever had at one time were three. Usually it was only one staff member to ever fifteen to twenty girls. The McNamara's were really obsessed with anything to do with sex, sexual orientation, or anything else sex-related. I can remember several separate instances of Bill McNamara coming into our dorm and saying, "It smells like sin in the camp." What he was referring to was that him he could smell masturbation had been going on. I never did see anyone masturbating, but still, he was obsessed with that. One different time when he was doing what they referred to as "chapel" he made us all bow our heads and raise our hands if we were virgins. What did he need to know that for? What was his purpose of asking? Why did he really need to know? It was just many things like that that we were faced with constantly.
I was one of the very few that came in as an open, out lesbian. I did not hide my sexuality. On my arrival to New Beginnings Girls Academy, life became extremely hard for me. I was constantly watched and it was assumed that I would get a girlfriend their. Bro Mac (as we were supposed to call Bill McNamara) preached at me numerous times screaming about homosexuality being "nasty" and "gross." On one occasion I remember him conducting chapel. That night he was running around the cafeteria and screaming like a wild man and throwing tomatoes as he screams about hell. He literally got his face as close as he could to mine and screamed at me for being a "fag." He screamed that he would "never let no girl lay lips on me" and how nasty I was. Him and his wife focused on bringing me down each and every day to break me down into the perfect little Baptist that they wanted me to be. I can't tell you how many thousands of tears ran down my face during those long two and a half years. I was brought down by the McNamaras and staff there to feel as if I was unloved, unwanted, a "nasty fag", ungrateful, and cast away by my own mom. They said they were breaking me down to make me a better person, but they were really just breaking me down to break down everything about me including my self esteem, love for myself, and expectancy of ever becoming anyone in this world.
When I wasn't "right with God" according to them, they would put me as well as many other girls on "discipline." Discipline was one of the many cruel forms of torture there. We were all required to stand facing the for hours. We had to stand with our toes to the floor board and just stare literally only a couple inches, if that, away from the wall. At meals, were were not allowed any condiments such as salt, pepper, ketchup, mustard, mayo, etc. We were also not allowed desserts, anything other than water, and many other things. We were the last to be able to go to the bathroom on bathroom breaks, not allowed to speak a word (unless Bible related) for a week, and many other things like that. Life was miserable. Discipline lasted a week usually unless you got over ten demerits, or Bill McNamara decided you needed to stay on longer. How someone got on discipline was really easy. We were on a merit system, and every little thing could result in a demerit. Leaving your brush out, not having your hair perfect, not making your bed perfect, being late out of the timed five minute shower, being late in line, not eating everything on your plate, talking, not reading your Bible, and so many more things resulted in demerits.
Life off of discipline was not very much better. We were not allowed to talk at all to each other unless it was "Friday Fun Night." Only then, on Friday nights, were we allowed to talk to each other. If they noticed that you were getting "too close" to someone, as in becoming too good of friends with someone there, they would automatically place you on "separation" from that person. Separation meant that you could not look at, talk to (when allowed to talk), comment off of, take anything from, give anything to, etc that person that you were separated from. Their main goal was to make you feel like you were alone by isolating you from anything familiar. We were not allowed to talk about our past at all. Phone calls were allowed one time every two weeks for fifteen minutes each. We could not call out, our parents had to call us. If we were to tell our parents that we were not okay, something was wrong, or anything else "negative" about the home, the staff would automatically discontinue the call. We were allowed to write letters every Friday. The letter was required to be a page and a half. Those were heavily monitored. Anything at all showing that you were unhappy was threw away. Letters mailed in to us were also read. If anything talked about our past, friends, or anything, they would throw them away and not tell us. Our parents could only visit once every six months for three days. To get a visit, you had to be in the home for six months and be going along with the program to Bill McNamaras satisfaction. If you "weren't right with God," still upset about being there, or a threat to them that you might run away, you would not get a visit no matter how long you were there. Life was hard.
The home was on 24/7 lock down. We could not leave anywhere even if we wanted or needed to. If a door didn't have a lock on the inside, staff or extremely trusted girls would have to sit or stand in front of it. We called that "posting." If anyone came close to the door, the person posting was allowed to hit them or do whatever it took to get them and prevent them from running. I can't tell you how many times I would sit there wondering if I would ever get to leave the home.
Information containing what the home advertises was taken off of New Beginnings Girls Academy (now called New Beginnings Ministries) official website, http://www.nbministriesmo.com/main.html
Child Abuse Prevention Month
April is National Child Abuse Prevention Month. In America, children of all ages face abuse daily. Together we are reaching out as a nation and bringing awareness to those that need us the most, the leaders of tomorrow. Abuse comes in many forms such as verbal abuse, physical abuse, mental abuse, verbal abuse, and institutional abuse. In just the past two years, statistics are alarming. I am going to present you with those statistics in order to show that not only is child abuse a major problem, but there are a LOT of children that need us to rise together as a nation and bring down the statistics of abuse. These aren't just numbers, these are children. It might be the neighbor down the street, it might be the child you see daily, or it might be someone that you know. Keep that in mind as you read this surprisingly awful statistics.
2010 Statistics
-Approximately 695,000 children were victims of maltreatment
-Children younger than one year had the highest rate of victimization of 20.6 per 1,000 children in the population of the same age.
-Children younger than one year had the highest rate of victimization of 20.6 per 1,000 children in the population of the same age.
-Of the children who experienced maltreatment or abuse, over 78% experienced neglect;
more than 17% were physically abused; just under 10% were sexually abused;
approximately 8% were psychologically maltreated; just over 2% were neglected; and
approximately 10% experienced other types of maltreatment.
-Nearly 80% of reported child fatalities as a result of child abuse and neglect were caused
by one or more of the child victim's parents.
-47 states reported approximately 3.4 million children received preventative services
from Child Protective Services agencies
-In 2010, an estimated 1, 560 children died from abuse and neglect in the USA
2011 Statistics
Among the over 259,000 children served by Children’s Advocacy Centers around the
country during 2011, some startling statistics include:
-206, 522 children were 0-6 years
-99, 624 children were ages 7-12 years
-69, 372 children were ages 13-18 years
-187, 862 children reported sexual abuse
-48, 264 children reported physical abuse
-179, 014 children participated in forensic interviewing at a Children's Advocacy Center
Among the over 226, 000 alleged offenders investigated for instances of child abuse
from January through June 2011, statistics include:
-146, 981 were 18+ years old
-24, 075 were ages 13 to 17 years old
-17, 250 were under the ages of 13 years
-88, 182 were a parent or step-parent of the victim
-47, 096 were related to the victim in another way
-71, 877 were an unrelated person the victim knew
Every day in America:
-Nearly 5 children die every day from abuse and neglect
Statistics were located on the National Children Alliance website. They work to enpower local communities to serve child victims of abuse.
Monday, March 26, 2012
Somebody Said A Prayer
This song is SO true! These pictures are of me through some hard times. Looking back, I am SO thankful for the people that said prayers for me.
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Missouri Home Land Outlay
33 miles outside of Joplin, Missouri, you will find the little town of La Russell, Missouri. La Russell is located off of MO-96. Unknown to most residents there, little to none know that the girls held at New Beginnings Girls Academy are not getting what New Beginnings advertises on their website.
The McNamara's house was a nice house with a basement. Later on, their basement would be what we all called "Dorm Two" for the other girls. Located up the property, there was a building for what we called our school. On one side there was the school office. The other side of the building was were we all did school. The other building on the property was the cafeteria. That was were we ate every meal.
The McNamara's house was a nice house with a basement. Later on, their basement would be what we all called "Dorm Two" for the other girls. Located up the property, there was a building for what we called our school. On one side there was the school office. The other side of the building was were we all did school. The other building on the property was the cafeteria. That was were we ate every meal.
The Move to Missouri
After surviving the first six days, I was moved with a few other girls to the Missouri home. We were told "the Lord gave us land." According to the McNamara's, the Boggs (a neighboring ranch family) had "given" us 40 acres of land. Little did I know but it was just another attempt to get out of the fire of media, survivors, and others dedicated to shutting down abusive facilities like New Beginnings Girls Academy.
The trip to La Russel, Missouri was a long one. It seemed to last forever! As usual, I was locked down 24/7 by 2 "buddies." What they called our buddies, were really just other girls in the home that were more trusted. They were also less likely to run and seemingly committed to the Baptist religion that was strictly enforced. As someone wisely once said, there the prisoner also became the guard.
What exactly is the buddies' responsibility? Being a Buddy meant that your job was to welcome the "new girl" to the strict laws, rules, and structure of the home. It was your responsibility also as a buddy to train that new girl to break down to the elements, punishments, and other things that we faced each and every day. If the new girl got in trouble, usually the new girl's Buddie also got in trouble. It did not matter if you broke a rule or not, if your new girl did you were often held accountable for not being strict enough.
How long did new girl last? Usually it ranged from one to three months. However, that was not always the case. I personally was on "new girl" for fifteen of the twenty-five months that I was there. Being on new girl meant that you could not look at, talk to, take anything from, or even acknowledge another new girl. Almost always on the new girls, those with short new girl times ALWAYS have a buddie. My situation (that I will explain in a later post) was a lot different. Yes, I did have a buddie for a while, but eventually over time I was still on new girl, but buddy free.
La Russel, Missouri, was a lot different that the Pace, Florida, location. Although both facilities were full lock down facilities, the Missouri location was a lot bigger. We were surrounded by woods, barbed wire, ditches, and a river. Escaping successfully was extremely unlikely, but some of us never quit hoping.
The trip to La Russel, Missouri was a long one. It seemed to last forever! As usual, I was locked down 24/7 by 2 "buddies." What they called our buddies, were really just other girls in the home that were more trusted. They were also less likely to run and seemingly committed to the Baptist religion that was strictly enforced. As someone wisely once said, there the prisoner also became the guard.
What exactly is the buddies' responsibility? Being a Buddy meant that your job was to welcome the "new girl" to the strict laws, rules, and structure of the home. It was your responsibility also as a buddy to train that new girl to break down to the elements, punishments, and other things that we faced each and every day. If the new girl got in trouble, usually the new girl's Buddie also got in trouble. It did not matter if you broke a rule or not, if your new girl did you were often held accountable for not being strict enough.
How long did new girl last? Usually it ranged from one to three months. However, that was not always the case. I personally was on "new girl" for fifteen of the twenty-five months that I was there. Being on new girl meant that you could not look at, talk to, take anything from, or even acknowledge another new girl. Almost always on the new girls, those with short new girl times ALWAYS have a buddie. My situation (that I will explain in a later post) was a lot different. Yes, I did have a buddie for a while, but eventually over time I was still on new girl, but buddy free.
La Russel, Missouri, was a lot different that the Pace, Florida, location. Although both facilities were full lock down facilities, the Missouri location was a lot bigger. We were surrounded by woods, barbed wire, ditches, and a river. Escaping successfully was extremely unlikely, but some of us never quit hoping.
Monday, March 12, 2012
The First Six Days
Nightmares. Flashbacks. Pain. Screams. Terror. Agony. More pain. More terror. No one loves me. Nobody cares. My family doesn't want me. Alone. I'm alone. Help! Can anyone hear me?? HELP!
That pretty much describes the 2 most devastating years of my life. The years I should of been spending in high school. The years I should of been going out on a first date, making memories, going to prom, and graduating high school. Instead, I'm in hell.
It all started on June 13, 2007. For many months, I had been volunteering at the local nursing home in Lake City, Florida. Like any other day, this day was a warm, sunny day. I could feel the warmth of the sun as I hurried out of the house to the car. I was headed to the nursing home to volunteer more. I was a sweet kid. Elderly people loved me. I spent many, many hours a week dedicating my time to them. It wasn't community service hours. I wasn't in trouble. I was just a kid who cared.
My mom and I got in the car and we headed onto the interstate. I was excited to see my old people (as I called them), but little did I know that things would not be anything near what I expected. My mom drove past the exit we were supposed to get off on. I knew then that something was wrong. The next exit would of been Georgia if she would have continued driving North. I started panicking. I knew something was wrong. It was so quiet! My mom was acting strangely. She finally told me she was taking me to a program. I panicked even more. She refused to tell me anything more. When we stopped at a gas station, she acted as if I was a prisoner and she was guarding me. I felt very trapped. There was no way out.
That pretty much describes the 2 most devastating years of my life. The years I should of been spending in high school. The years I should of been going out on a first date, making memories, going to prom, and graduating high school. Instead, I'm in hell.
It all started on June 13, 2007. For many months, I had been volunteering at the local nursing home in Lake City, Florida. Like any other day, this day was a warm, sunny day. I could feel the warmth of the sun as I hurried out of the house to the car. I was headed to the nursing home to volunteer more. I was a sweet kid. Elderly people loved me. I spent many, many hours a week dedicating my time to them. It wasn't community service hours. I wasn't in trouble. I was just a kid who cared.
My mom and I got in the car and we headed onto the interstate. I was excited to see my old people (as I called them), but little did I know that things would not be anything near what I expected. My mom drove past the exit we were supposed to get off on. I knew then that something was wrong. The next exit would of been Georgia if she would have continued driving North. I started panicking. I knew something was wrong. It was so quiet! My mom was acting strangely. She finally told me she was taking me to a program. I panicked even more. She refused to tell me anything more. When we stopped at a gas station, she acted as if I was a prisoner and she was guarding me. I felt very trapped. There was no way out.
We arrived in Pace, Florida around 6 to 8 hours later. I remember getting out of the car in this very isolated, scary place. Just something about how the place felt was all wrong. I knew something wasn't right. I followed my mom inside and met the man who unknown to me would forever scar me.
Upon meeting "Brother Mac" I knew this was NOT the place for me. Bill McNamara was very pushy. He ordered me into the bathroom to change out of my jeans and shirt. He ordered me to put on a very old-fashioned skirt and blouse. Two girls stood guard in front of the door. My mom slipped out of it and left me. She drove away and left me in this room full of strangers. The two girls grabbed my arms and started hauling me to the dorm. I was terrified. I could not figure out what was going on.
Once inside the "dorm" I had to sit down and start reading a Bible immediately. They refused to give me any of the medication that I came in with. I was not allowed to call my family, talk to the other girls, or even look at the other girls. I'll never forget what my first lunch there was. We had catfish and some other sides. I was required to eat EVERYTHING that they brought me. I have always hated catfish. It was hard to get it down, but they said that if I didn't I would be in trouble. I felt so alone. I was scared. I didn't know what was going on around me. That night before bed I asked again if I could take my medicine. I was on a high dose of Syriquil and Lexapro. They said Jesus would be all I needed and that I was not allowed my medicine. Why I was on those medications was because of depression and anxiety. That night was a bad night full of nightmares. Fear was all I could feel. I couldn't understand why I couldn't talk to my mom or my grandma.
Friday finally came. We were allowed to write a page and a half letter to our family. I can't remember what my letter said, but I remember the tears falling. I cried and cried as I wrote that letter to my mom. I do remember saying that I missed her. All I could think about since I had gotten there was her coming back. When would she come back? When could I call her? What was going to happen to me? How long was I required to be there?
After six days exactly of being locked up in that dorm, I finally got to go out. Once again I had two girls on either side of me holding my arms in a locked position. They hurried me to a van and put me in it. I found out that they were moving me from Pace, Florida, to Missouri. I didn't know much else. That scared me a lot because that meant that I would be out of Florida and half of the country away from anyone that I knew and anyone that cared.
Those were my first 6 days in what I refer to as hell.
My Introduction
Welcome to my blog. The purpose of this blog is to allow you to follow my journey as I went from victim to survivor. It's my life story of how I went through New Beginnings Girls Academy. Everything in this blog is completely the truth, my own personal experience. New Beginnings is a cruel, harsh place that tries to destroy every ounce of hope, self worth, and life itself. It was the worst experience in my life, although I have lived through several other tragic events. My main purpose of this blog is to raise awareness of institutional abuse such as places like New Beginnings Girls Academy. There are HUNDREDS of other survivors out there like me. We all come from different places across the United States. The sad part is that the places that forever changed us are still hidden from the public eye. Through this blog, I hope to inspire in you a fire to start looking in to these places, ESPECIALLY if you plan to send your child to a "program."
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