February 12, 2000 was a cold and rainy day in Minden, Nevada. My mom came in to wake me up, but I was already awake. I was beyond stoked; I was going to the San Diego Zoo that morning! My mom and step-dad has promised me a couple of weeks ago that if I was really good and did all my chores, they would take me to the San Diego Zoo. I had never been to a zoo before, and since I loved animals so much, I just couldn't wait to see them all up close!
My parents explained that they were having trouble with the airlines, and they couldn't get tickets for all of us to sit together, so my Aunt Monica (my step-dad's sister) would fly down with me and that my parents and sisters would fly down on a later flight. I didn't care at all--I was just thrilled to be able to go to the zoo for the first time! Unfortunately, I had a huge stomach ache that morning (foreshadow much?) and my mom asked me several times if I was sure I wanted to go. I told her she was crazy if she thought I'd change my mind.
My aunt came and picked me up shortly after, and my mom gave me the biggest hug in the world before I got in the car, which I thought was strange since I figured I'd be seeing her in just a couple of hours. She also was crying. I asked her what was the matter, and she told me she was just so happy that I'd finally be able to go to the zoo. I kissed her good-bye, got in my aunt's car, and waved to her until I couldn't see her anymore.
The plane ride was a blur. When we got off the plane, my aunt explained that her two friends would be picking us up from the airport and taking us to the hotel. These ladies met us at the gate, and my aunt didn't seem too chummy with them like they were actually "friends" but I don't think at that time I really noticed; I was practically skipping alongside them to the car. One of the ladies opened the door for me and I hopped in. She shut it abruptly while the other lady was starting the engine. The doors locked, and the window rolled down slightly while my aunt leaned in and told me I was going away for a awhile, and that she was so sorry. She was crying, and I asked her why she wasn't getting in the car. She told me to be good, and that she was so very sorry. The window rolled up, she stepped away from the car, and turned to walk back toward the airport while I sat there bewildered. It took a moment to absorb what had just happened, and knowing the answer anyway, I still asked the ladies if they were going to take me to the zoo. They told me that they weren't, and that we were going to Mexico. I asked them if they were kidnapping me, and why my aunt didn't stop them, and they said that they were hired by my parents to escort me to a special school in Mexico and that I should just be quiet, because it was a bit of a drive. I began to cry hysterically, asking them to take me back, to call my parents, that this was all just a misunderstanding. I told them that I had been a good girl lately, and that I was supposed to be going to the zoo. I asked them how long I would be staying in Mexico, and they said they weren't sure, but it would be a little while. I was sobbing so hard that I was hyperventilating, and told them I was going to throw up so they needed to pull over. They said they always heard the same story and handed me a paper bag. I was in disbelief that my parents were doing this. I felt so betrayed. I thought it was a joke, and I just couldn't wrap my mind around it.
We stopped eventually in front of a huge red gate surrounded by what must have been a 50 foot tall stucco wall. The lady driving leaned out and talked to a guard, and then the gate swung open. When we pulled in, I was greeted by a man named Jade, and he said he was the boss around here and would be taking over from here. He led me into what looked like a hotel lobby, but it had shabby couches and chairs, and was decorated with motivational posters. We sat down, and he asked me if I knew why I was there. I told him I didn't, that this was a mistake, and asked if my parents knew where I was. He told me that my parents wanted me to come here because I hadn't been following the right path in life lately, and they were concerned for my future. I told him that I had no idea what he was talking about; I had straight A's, I didn't drink or do drugs, and I used to go to church all the time, and that if I started going more, could he please just let me go home. He smirked his self-righteous Jade smirk (a look I would soon come to loathe) and told me that I was going to be staying here for awhile until I graduated their school. I asked him how long that took, and he told me that it was up to me--some people are out of here in six months, others in 2 years or more.
He waved his hand toward the door to signal someone, and a girl walked in wearing blue sweatpants and a blue sweatshirt, sandals, and had her hair in a tight bun. She introduced herself as Destiny, and said that she would help me settle in to our "family", and that I would live in one of the three double wide trailers on the property that each housed 30 girls. Our "family" was called Alliance, and we would eat together, sleep under the same roof together, go to "school" together, and walk in a straight line together. Jade pulled out a big Rubbermaid tub from behind the couch and told me my parents sent this ahead of time so I would have the things I needed. I followed Destiny to the "house", and she sat with me while I opened the tub. I really hadn't said much up to this point because I was still in shock at the reality that was unfolding around me, but when Destiny asked me what I did to come here, I burst into tears and told her I had no idea, that this must be a mistake, and that my parents probably thought this was a boarding school. When she asked how old I was and I told her I was 12, she couldn't believe it, and told me I was the youngest person to ever come here, which made me cry even harder. She said she was going to go talk with Jade later to make sure this wasn't a mistake, but that she needed to go over the rules with me.
1. No talking to anyone, whatsoever. If I needed to talk to a "Mama" (the Hispanic ladies that supervised us and made sure we were following the rules), I had to raise my hand and ask permission to be called on.
2. Ask permission to sit down, to stand up, to use the restroom, to talk, to eat, etc.
3. Always walk in line everywhere, just follow the person in front of me.
4. If boys were ever coming over to the girl side of the school, we would be warned by the "Papas" shouting CHICOS! and we had to put our heads down and close our eyes, and if we were caught looking, we would get in huge trouble.
The program worked on a level system. Higher levels = more privileges. I was a Level 1. There were 6 levels total. Levels 1 and 2 were nothing. We were allowed to write letters to our parents, (but they were all going to be read before they were sent out, so we couldn't put anything in them about if we hated it, wanted to go home, etc, or we would lose those privileges) and not much else. We got points each day for just behaving. We had to earn a certain amount of points to advance to each level. On Fridays, everyone Level 2 and up got a chocolate bar.
Level 3's were allowed one 15 minute supervised phone call per month to our parents. Level 4's and above were "upper levels". Level 4's were allowed to talk to other upper levels (in Spanish only), and to the lower levels as well.
Level 4's were allowed one phone call per week to their parents, and parents could come and visit for a couple of days, and go off site with them for one of the days.
Level 5's were allowed a "home pass" where they could go home for 1 week, and level 6's were allowed a home pass where they could go home for 2 weeks. On Fridays, level 5's were allowed to "free dress" and wear jeans and regular clothes. Level 6's were always allowed to wear regular clothes. Level 4's, 5's and 6's were also housed together in an upper level "family" called Essence. Everything was based off a point system, and it was easier to lose points than it was to earn them.
There were also "consequences" for everything. There were Category 1 (Cat 1) offenses, (something minimal like not raising your hand to ask to stand or sit), Cat 2, (which was something like speaking to another person or looking when the boys came around) Cat 3, (which was also called R&R, and we could get that for insubordination, like getting multiple Cat 2's, or by refusal to eat), and Cat 4's, which rarely anyone got. I honestly only knew one person to get Cat 4, and she tried to run away.
Cat 1's just took away points and our weekly candy bar for one week.
Those who got Cat 2's had to sit in a room in Indian style, facing the wall, listen to books on tape and take tests on them. We had to get a certain number of points to get out of there, meaning if we missed points on the tests on the books, we'd be in there for a long time.
R&R was basically solitary confinement. We would be required to sit in a room the size of a closet, in Indian style and sitting on our hands, facing the wall, and "thinking about our actions" for however long the Mamas saw fit. What really sucked about this, is if we did anything to piss one of the Mamas off, they could give us a Cat 1 or 2 or whatever they felt like. There was no list of what to do and what not to do or anything.
There were also seminars we were required to go through and "graduate": Discovery, Focus, Accountability, and an upper level one that I can't remember the name of. Discovery was completed at Level 1, Focus at Level 2, and Accountability at Level 3. These seminars were brainwashing, crazy, and terrifying. They would last for a few days, feature some sort of speaker, and various activities that were supposed to help us, but really we were required to do them or we would get thrown out of the seminar, de-level, and have to repeat it again, prolonging graduation and anyway out of of this Mexican hell hole.
I spent so many nights crying myself to sleep, feeling the deepest betrayal from my parents. I would cry so hard that the night mamas would come over and whisper for me to "callete" (shut up) and if I asked to go to the bathroom, they wouldn't let me, so I'd end up wetting the bed. I wanted so badly to talk to someone, but we were only allowed to talk in "group" to our family and we were so supervised it was ridiculous.
I was pretty heavily medicated while I was there, as well. Sometimes, they would run out of my medication and I would withdrawal so badly that I would almost pass out from the dizzy spells, nausea, and headaches. I was just points away from being voted up to a Level 4 (which also was dumb because my family, Alliance, had to vote for me to go on to the upper level family, Essence, or I wouldn't be able to advance. It was just a giant popularity contest, and without majority vote, I'd be stuck on Level 3 for as long as they wanted me to be), and I
Apparently, my mom sent money to me all the time and I never saw it because my case handler, Yesica, took the money. I was supposed to visit her once per week and talk to her about my progress, which was also a joke because she barely spoke English and if I said anything negative, it was written down and told to Jade.
I started my period shortly after my 13th birthday, and had no one to talk to about it; I wasn't allowed to talk to any of the girls in Alliance, and the Mama's barely spoke a lick of English. I had no idea why the hell I was bleeding, and didn't want to get in trouble for it, so I would just stuff toilet paper in my underwear.
The seminars were terrifying. For example, in Discovery, there was one exercise where we would have to sit on our knees, our heads pointed toward the ceiling, arms outstretched, while cheesy music like Sarah McLoughlin played, and we were all told to scream to "let all the anger out". Then, towels were placed in front of us, and we had to beat the floors with the towels, yelling while we beat the towels, saying things like "I hate you, Dad, for touching me," or whatever other issues these kids had. The "staff" of the seminars all knew about us, so they would get right up in our faces and yell "Aren't you so angry at your dad?" Some girls would cry and not want to talk about these deeply disturbing issues in front of the 80+ kids (the seminars were full of boys and girls) and then wouldn't graduate the seminars, preventing them from advancing at all. Afterward, we had to say we forgave whoever wronged us. It was emotionally and physically exhausting, run by very untrained people (as in, not counselors or psychologists or anything) and we were forced to talk about very private issues and then say with conviction that we forgave so-and-so for wronging us. I didn't really have any of these deep seated issues like these other kids had, so I would just have to elaborate on how I was mad that my parents sent me here in the first place. It was all so strange to me.
The "school" was a large room filled with tables and folding chairs, and since all of us were different ages, they had a shelf for each grade level--7 through 12. We would have to pick out a textbook at the beginning of "school" and read and do the exercises 6 hours per day, 6 days per week. We would be required to take and pass 3 tests per week or we would get a Cat 2. Our "teachers" were one man and one woman, both not credentialed or English speaking, who would sit up at a desk at the front of the room and grade our papers. If we needed help with a subject, too bad. Their competency level was so low and their English so poor, they might as well have not even been there.
After a while, the place went to shit (even more than it already was). The plumbing stopped working, and we had to go to the bathroom in buckets. The stench of that place was unbearable. I also got Salmonella, and was quarantined for a while until it was passed. I was seen by a doctor who came to the school, which in retrospect I'm pretty sure wasn't an actual MD, and given antibiotics.
I learned quickly that I had to smile and nod and pretend everything was okay with me, and that I was learning that progressing. If I didn't do this, I knew I would be stuck here forever. If I didn't adapt to this situation, I knew I wouldn't ever get out, and my mental state would be compromised. I had to be positive. I had to tell myself that I would be able to go home soon. Even though I felt so betrayed, I had never wanted to see my mom more.
My mom and step-dad and sister came and visited me when I was on Level 4. I was allowed outside of those gates for the first time in a year. We went around the town of Ensenada and did touristy things; I was on my best behavior and pretended that I was having a good time because I was so afraid that I would be stuck at Casa by the Sea longer than I would have to be. It was such an awkward and formal visit.
When I reached Level 5 and was granted my first home pass, I went home to my parents' in Sparks, NV and begged my mom to keep me home. I promised her I would be so well behaved and told her about some of the things that were going on down there. My step-dad thought I was lying, and I overheard him telling my mom that I was just manipulating her so I could come home, but that she had already spent my college tuition fund for my stay there, so I should just finish it out.
In the end, my mom won and I never had to go back. I was put in Mendive Middle School in April 2001, and spent the last two months of 8th grade trying to learn what I should have spent my entire 8th grade learning. I later found out that Casa was completely unaccredited and was falsified to all of the parents as having an accreditation. Casa was shut down a few years later by the Mexican FDA and Child Services for a laundry list of health code violations and child abuse and neglect.
I suffered from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder for years and years after that; in fact, sometimes I still have such vivid dreams about the place. I dream I am kidnapped and imprisoned and there's no escape. I talk, but no words come out. Everyone is speaking a different language and no one will listen to me. It's terrifying, even after all these years.
My social life suffered from this as well. I entered 8th grade close to the end of the school year and I barely talked. I had spent 97% of my time at Casa in silence, and I was not used to being able to talk to my peers. I was also so terrified to do anything wrong at home in fear of being sent back, that I was a total homebody all of high school. I think I went to a couple of dances, but never drank or partied or misbehaved and didn't really have any friends. Once I turned 18 I kind of went buck wild because I knew I couldn't be sent back, but that's a different story....
People often look at me in disbelief when I tell them I was sent to school in Mexico, and the first thing they ask is if I had a ton of fun. It's hard to put into words the terror and anxiety I felt while I was there, the uncertainty and distrust I felt for adults, the sickness I felt from being on and off medications, and the brainwashing seminars and the conditions we lived in. The lies that were told to the parents were countless, and the treatment and neglect of all these kids was unbelievable.
I am grateful I was able to learn Spanish; when I came back, I was fluent. I have lost a lot over the years, which is unfortunate, however I can still understand it very well. I also went to the zoo for the first time this year. I have been apprehensive about it for so many years because a part of me thinks I'll be tricked again, but it was a nice experience getting to visit the Portland Zoo. I still keep in touch with a few of the girls from Alliance via Facebook, which is nice. We've all grown up to be very successful in life, and whether or not that's due to being at Casa, we'll never know.
