July 29th, 2004. It was my mother’s birthday and she decided to take her troubled 16yr old on a “vacation” for her birthday. I went along begrudgingly hoping for some good food and a good time. Instead, we pulled up to the gates of Casa by the Sea. We walked inside the entrance and were quickly escorted to a conference room next door. A minute later a lady walks in and tells me to give my parents a hug…shaken I turn to my mother who is already at my side crying and hugging me. The lady then tells me to go outside. When I go outside there is a group of about 6-7 250+LB Hispanic males sitting across the entryway. In the program we called them the Mexican Mafia because they all had spikey hair and wore sunglasses. One of the men beckoned me over and it was at that moment that I realized that I may be stuck here a while and really should give my parents a proper goodbye. I turned to go back to speak with my parents when all of them bumrushed me and slammed me to the pavement. They proceeded to carry me to one of the isolation rooms and that is how I spent my first two days in Mexico. I feel into the program fairly easily but could already tell that this place was run by favouritism. The food was subpar except for the tortas! I still have yet to find as good of a torta outside the program, who cares if the beans had rocks you had to pick out. The showers and living conditions were atrocious. You could get in trouble for any little thing. There were several windows overlooking the sea but if you were caught looking you would get in trouble. I was fortunate not to have had to stay there long because a few months after arriving we awoke to Federales at every exit with M14’s. We heard from our “Fathers” (a name we had to call the people watching over us) that they were closing the school. There was a buzz of excitement throughout the day, however mid-afternoon we started to hear that they were not going to close the school. This did not sit well with all of us teenagers and we decided to root! We broke anything we could get our hands on. Some kids set fires (still not sure how they managed that). None of the “Fathers” could really control us. We did forget about the Federales though and once it got dark they started to take control. I remember not wanting to go to bed and saying some choice words with of the officers and next thing I know I am handcuffed in my underwear and put in a kneeling position outside with temps in the low 40’s. This was not the worst that I saw. I did see a young kid cussing at an officer and that guy took out his billy club and smacked the kid across the face. I can still see what I assume to be eye juice squirting out of his eye as his hand went to cover it. The one time I saw the kid afterwards his eye was patched. I was picked up the following morning by my parents and just when I thought I was home free my mother decided I was not rehabilitated enough and enrolled me at Midwest Academy.
Midwest Academy was no picnic but after coming from Mexico it was a breeze. The same B.S. as down in Ensenada but everything just slightly cleaner. I made progress in the program at Midwest Academy while maintaining my sanity as the mountains of manipulation techniques were thrown our way. My breaking point came when we were in our “School” time. Where we would sit at desks and complete shitty workbooks that somehow compared to actually going to high school. The person sitting next to me was working on a quiz for a class that I had just completed the day before. I happened to glance his direction and without thinking the answer slipped from my lips…more compulsively than anything and of course one of the people watching saw and they decided the appropriate punishment was to erase all points I had made so far and put me back down to lvl 1. By this time I had already turned 17 and knew that they could not keep me past 18 so I decided to buck the program. I did not make waves but I pursued nothing. I had more than enough points to level up and at the time had completed all seminars up to PC3 but did not care…I was done. At level one you only get pb&J’s for food and after a while that gets boring. I decided I wanted hot meals and to do so I would have to level up. Since I was getting close to aging out and had all the prerequisites I think they just gave it to me and I spent the last few months as upper levels before being pulled by my parents.
Overall my teachings from the program did little to help me. I still came out a little shit and proceeded down the path I was already heading before the program, now just even more upset and filled with hurt and pain. I went right back to drugs and alcohol and ended up doing time. It was only through getting sent to a faith based court ordered program that i finally pulled my head from my ass and got on the right track in life. Even became a drug counselor for a while. While i did not lean much from the WWASP program the entirety of the experience let me know that i am capable of an inner strength and perseverance that I did not know I had and that has been the biggest take away. I go into each hardship knowing what I and others have been through and know I can push on through to the other side. Glad this place shut down and glad I got to be there for the show!
