This is part three of a three-part article detailing one young woman’s bewildering confinement in a “prayer room” at the Indianapolis Training Center. Click here for parts
one and
two.
The assignments I was given when I was confined to the prayer room at the Indianapolis Training Center (ITC) were all intended to make me aware of my sin and failure. For example, I was to write a two-page description of my sins, how they affected others, and the specific ways that God was using my authorities to cleanse and make my heart right before Him. There were pages and pages of scripture to memorize — all one or two verses taken out of context from all over the Bible. Then I had to memorize the Character Qualities chart and the verse that went with each quality. There were 49 of those!
But I had a secret weapon that my instructor didn’t know about: I can memorize anything in an incredibly short period of time. Besides, I had been in ATI for almost a decade. I had already memorized most of those verses at some point in the past. I simply brushed up on them and wrote ferociously all afternoon.
Around dinner time, my roommate showed up at my door with a plate of food. She had been instructed to bring me only the plainest food. She looked stricken and in pain as she handed me my plate and mouthed an apology. I thanked her and she left.
Not long after that my instructor arrived again to check on my progress. I informed her I was done. She looked shocked. She sat down and listened as I recited the memory work, perfectly, and showed her my written assignments. She left somewhat sheepishly. I had to be the most compliant occupant of that prayer room ever!
As I expected, I slept fitfully that night. The next morning, after a simple breakfast delivered by my pale-faced roommate, someone arrived to take me to “counseling.” I met with the training center director and my instructor. It was a humiliating Jessica-bashing fest.
I was told that I was a chronic liar and manipulator. When I asked what they thought I had lied about, they recounted a story that I had told about my grandmother’s reason for cutting off the end of a ham. “Everyone knows that story, Jessica. Your grandmother didn’t really do that, but you told it like she did.” I was shocked! Seriously?! This was a joke! They didn’t have any other examples. I sat there trying not to laugh. Not surprisingly, my assignments that day centered around liars and deceivers.
The next day I was again escorted to counseling. This time I met with a local African-American pastor who kept a small office at the training center. When I arrived, he dismissed my escort and then sat there glaring at me, as if he were trying see right through me, into my very soul. I tried not to squirm at the strange silence. Finally, he chose a Bible from the bookshelf by his desk and pounded it down on the desk inches from me, spine facing me. “Look at this book!!” he thundered. Confused, I blinked at the King James Bible in front of me. “What is this? And think carefully before you answer!”
I was sure that this was some kind of trick question, but I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what it was. “Umm. The Bible?” I squeaked.
“Aha!” he shouted. I jumped. But he continued, “It is the Holy Bible! But you just said ‘the Bible.’ And even though I showed you the words right here on the spine — HOLY BIBLE — you don’t even realize it is the HOOOOOOLLLYYY Bible! And because you do not recognize it is the HOOOOOOLLLYYY Bible, it is clear that you have no respect for God as HOOOOOOLLLYYY!” he preached at the top of his lungs, pounding the desk to punctuate each word!
I nearly fell out of my seat. I couldn’t have said another word if my life depended on it! But turns out I didn’t need to. For the next 45 minutes he preached at me just like that about the holiness of the Bible and God, and the people He places in authority over us. It was like a horrific dream.
Numb, I was escorted back to the prayer room, where I collapsed onto the bed and laughed until I cried myself to sleep.
The next day I saw another counselor/training center staffer who spent the entire hour trying to get me to become “saved.” I knew I was already saved. I wouldn’t be bullied into doing it again! I stuck to my guns with everything I had. I did finally agree to pray to “recommit” my life to Christ. Nothing I was going to say would convince this person to let the matter rest until I did.
Later the next day I was unceremoniously returned to my room. My sentence had lasted four whole days.
Once released, I went straight to a phone to demand of my parents why they had approved this kind of treatment of me! They were relieved to hear from me and had been completely in the dark, wondering why I didn’t call. My instructor had not told them anything about the prayer room. They listened in stunned silence as I recounted the details of my nightmarish confinement, and they didn’t know what to say when I finished. I hung up even more confused than ever about what had happened to me and why.
Interestingly, nothing was ever again said about the incomplete homework, and I was never asked to turn in any of the work I had completed. Those days were so bizarre, that experience so surreal and inexplicable, that it still leaves me shaking my head in bewilderment.
Epilogue
Editor's Note: Jessica's best friend, Karis, asked if she could share her impressions and the different kind of suffering she endured when her friend was confined to the prayer room.
I was embarrassed and sad that something I had said would cause Jessica so much humiliation. I blamed myself, thinking that I could have done something to prevent her confinement.
I thought she was in there for not being in her room after curfew and for visiting other people, and as the punishment seemed really harsh — especially for her, because she never meant to do the “wrong” things. So I wondered if I should have lied to protect her, to keep her punishment from being so severe.
While Jessica was confined to the prayer room, my instructions were to pick up her completed projects and give them to our instructor, and to make sure that she had food at each mealtime. She was allowed to eat whatever food I could put on one plate, but no dessert. This was supposed to be a form of discipline, after all! I was not supposed to converse with her while she was in the prayer room. I was to deliver food, pick up the projects and dirty dishes, and leave her alone.
Four days of this was so long. We had become very close, and it was lonely in our room without her. Jessica was a person you couldn’t help laughing with. When we were together, we discussed life in the fishbowl and encouraged each other to keep going.
When she left the prayer room, Jessica was a different person. I felt guilty because I believed that my words had caused her punishment. I don’t remember how long it took for me to tell her how bad I felt and to confess that I had something to do with what had happened. She saw my heart and forgave me willingly. We have remained good friends through the years, and I was even privileged to be in her wedding!
I don’t know how to express the torment that I experienced as I was being interrogated about her activities at the Indianapolis Training Center (ITC). I did not believe that she was doing anything wrong , but, by training center standards, she was not being “under authority.”
How do you reconcile conflicting thoughts and philosophies? The view of authority was different at the training center than it was in my home. At the training center we were to do everything our authorities told us, whether we understood or not, regardless of our age. My parents taught me trust and honesty, but I still wish, when I look back, that I had lied when they questioned me. I had never before experienced a situation that would have been better had I lied.
The cosmetology course began my five-year stay at the training center — a time when I forgot who God was and became lost in the mire of being who I was “supposed” to be. I began following a list of standards in order to be approved by God and others. It took me a long time to overcome that training when I did leave the program.
I thank God that Jessica left when she did. It has been inspiring to watch her untangle her life and become an amazing woman who loves God and her family, and who strives to live each day in the fullness of who she was created to be!
Karis was homeschooled through high school with ATI. She attended the cosmetology school at the Indianapolis Training Center (ITC) and went on to teach there. After leaving the ITC, she worked at Crossroads Bible College in Indianapolis. While there she began to understand that the Christian life was not about a list of rules. She currently lives with her husband (also a former ATI student and staff member) and two active boys in Missouri.
Jessica and Karis,
Thank you for sharing your stories with us. I am so glad to hear that there is a happy ending. I wish I could make myslef believe that your stories were fabricated, but I know first-hand that this was not an isolated event. I'm glad the ITC's oportrayal of God didn't forever skiew your understanding of Him. You two are incredible.
(((hugs)))
~Donna
I am stunned and appalled. It's no wonder that so many former ATI students have gone on to reject religion entirely. I never saw anything approaching this, though I did see ridiculous misuses of authority where someone in authority had far too much power and those "under authority" experienced oppression but none of the promised "protection."
Your story made me claustrophobic. I think I need some fresh air! But thanks so much for sharing this. How amazing that you guys are friends through this and have been able to move forward together. I think the future must be bright for beautiful and strong souls such as yourselves :-)
Your story is so heartbreaking! Thank you for being open and willing to share this with us. I'm so sorry you had to go through something like this in the name of "Christianity!"
Wowee! I only wonder why your parents didn't immediately bring you home after you got out of the prayer room.
Your story is heartbreaking! Please tell me your parents came to your rescue after you called them.
No. My parents made me stay. I didn't really beg them to let me come home. I knew it wouldn't work. My parents always forced me to "finish what I started" and I figured this was no exception. A few weeks later I did corner Mr. Gothard and pour out my sordid tale. He barely heard me. But he did "see" me. And what he saw he liked, I guess. Because as soon as I was finished he invited me to quit the cosmetology program and move to Headquarters to work on his personal staff. I was completely taken off guard. So were my parents. However, when he called my dad to extend the formal invite my dad turned him down. He said when I finished cosmetology school he would think about it again. Instead I came straight home when the program ended and started courting my future husband (another sordid tale). *sigh*
I'm speechless and grieved. Have your parents since come to realize and admit their failures? (I hope you don't mind me asking).
Wow, that must have been so weird to get an invite like that after you told Gothard your story. It's good that you guys turned him down! I always heard Headquarters was a whole different kind of a mess to deal with, and that would've been the last thing you needed after being at ITC.
I hate to say it but I'm not surprised he didn't really listen to you - he always had this blank stare all the time, it always creeped me out in a way I couldn't explain. He came to Eagle Springs a few times and stood there babbling at us. It was really weird when we got invited to the North Woods too and of course us students didn't have any choice - I have no idea why in the world we were even there, we just sort of stood around feeling out of place the whole time while he and various staff members I didn't recognize were in long, drawn-out meetings about what they were going to do the next year and how excited they were and so on and so forth. To this day I have never understood our trip to the North Woods and NEVER understood Bill Gothard in the slightest. Really weird guy!
On one hand, your story makes me LIVID. Were they so desperate to preach and teach and reform that they had to take it out on a sweet innocent girl? SO sad and wrong and infuriating.
On the other hand, I laughed SO HARD as I read the part about the preacher and his Hoooooooly Bible! I love that you can retell this story with such accuracy, and somehow not lose your wonderful sense of humor! Thank you for sharing your story. I pray that God has somehow made a way to fill the wounds left by your yrs with ATI/IBLP!
My reaction is the same as Julie's above: I hurt for you that you went through this, but what makes me laugh every time is your secret weapon that let you finish all that work in one afternoon. Ha, take THAT!
I asked my mom this week if she had ever heard of prayer rooms, she couldn't remember ever hearing about them. I get the feeling a lot of ATI parents were so blind to what happened to their minor children at these places. I sure knew what a prayer room was & it was my survival instinct at 15 to stay out of one.
wow and yikes were the first words that came to mind. GOD is good and im glad you learned from this, but to go thru it at all is sad and i makes want more and more that this ministry to fall, hard and quick, so that other families dont get sucked in!!!
As a former student at the Eagle Springs log cabin program who suffered similar punishments, I have to tell you it's really a strange kind of sadness and a little bit of relief to hear you tell your story from the Indianapolis Training Center's side of things. Because all we ever heard were rumors and horror stories, and though I've heard in brief from those who suffered LIT status there, I always wished I could actually talk to someone first-hand or hear details because I just never knew what it was really like for you guys. I only knew what I heard and what a few angrily posted on a forum here or there, only to vanish suddenly and never post again. I am so glad that you've come forward to talk about this - more people need to know what horrible things the Log Cabin Programs did to us! This was the darker side of ATI - and most did not know it went to these depths, not in the slightest. I think it's good to speak out about it, and I like to think that every time one of us speaks out, maybe some parent somewhere might read it and spare their teenager from a similar prison sentence.
I am so sorry that you had to endure this kind of stuff - I hope it helps to know that there are others who suffered similarly and who understand, like it helped me. I stayed at Eagle Springs for two years and it was the hardest time in my life. I didn't know you guys got weekly calls, or that they would take you out of the prayer room just to punish you! It's good that you had weekly calls - and terrible that you had to be taken out of your isolation repeatedly to face new punishments the way you did. I was taken out of my isolation three times in two weeks to be paraded in front of the staff house while I pushed a brush mower, but that didn't involve any yelling or anything, you know? It's awful to hear what you endured. The worst for me was the stretch of time, it's amazing how in just two and a half weeks you can get this feeling like you're losing your mind completely...it was almost as if I couldn't remember what it was like to talk to someone anymore since they told me I was not to make a sound the entire time, like my tongue was forever glued to the roof of my mouth, and the world seemed to collapse on me and time seemed to stand still forever. We also had a really bad wasp problem, which may sound kind of silly, but I was told I couldn't kill them - so basically we'd have one or two wasps in the room with me and I had to lay on the floor to avoid being attacked by them all the time, which just compounded things in a way I have trouble explaining a lot of times.
I hope you're doing well on the other side of things - I have had contact with one or two former LIT's/students, one of them is my dearest friend today...we have a lot of trouble adjusting at times, even after all these years, and it's always nice to know that as much as they tried to make us feel isolated and powerless, we are not alone in our suffering and certainly not powerless anymore.
Best wishes to you, and thanks so much for posting this.
[...] (Click here for Part 3) Tales from Training Centers Advanced Training Institute ATI ATIA Bill Gothard IBLP Institute in Basic Life Principles ITC legalism manipulation prayer room rules [...]
I am pleased to be Karis' Dad. We, her Mom and I are both delighted with Kent and Karis and the boys. We too were at ITC and found in dealing with Mr. Gergani that there was a Theology problem over the issue of Sanctification. His background is Methodist and lacks real theological training. I personally caught him lying several times when it became necessary for us to deal with irregularities at ITC. He promised things and then did not do them, apparently no intention of doing them as he never tried to put them in operation.
While handling the "Learning Center" I was told we could not pray or spend time in the Bible. I asked him the difference between the "Learning Center" (ACE for which I had been trained as a Superintendent while pastoring in Wisconsin) and a public school classroom. There had been some irregularities in previous "Learning Center" leadership but I told him I would take 20 minutes in the morning and afternoon in the mens and the ladies classes in the Word of God and then in prayer. I had been a pastor and teacher in classes and knew how it needed to go. He did not like it but had no one else who knew what to do and how to handle the Learning Center. In the "Learning Center" I told the "Leaders in Training" that I did not want to hear about their College students with whom they lived. We were there to study and that included beginning to see things from God's perspective and learn to walk by faith in Jesus Christ. We read through the Gospel of John and Hebrews with some brief instruction from the passages then prayed. Prayer requests were taken on paper, not vocally.
It was also my privilege to run the academic part of Telos Classes for the Equip course at ITC. Mr. Gergani wanted me to find out about the activities of the College students and report to him. I told them that in the classes I did not want to hear about their "Leader in Training." Our
class sessions would always be about the God we serve and keeping our eyes on Him during their time of service. It was a great time keep our perspectives good and learning to walk by faith in the daily exercise of our responsibilities.
Warmly, Dr. Crouch
Jessica, I feel so sorry for you having to endure that kind of treatment. That is absolutely sickening that you were treated like that, especially by an organization that is supposed to be a ministry of Jesus Christ.
But I'm glad you wrote about your experience. When I first discovered this site a few days ago I was unaware of these kinds of things ever happening with IBLP, and my differences with the organization were mostly theological and cerebral, and I was still somewhat sympathetic towards them, and didn't regret having been supportive of them in the past. But after reading your story and other young people's experiences I have an intense dislike for that organization, and regret ever having done a thing for them. Thank you for helping to open my eyes.
after reading stories like this it is no wonder that some people are atheist...they never see the power of God in a chrisitan life not the love for one another.
I feel horrible for what you had to go through. They threaten me that when I was there in 1998. My LIT(leader in training) spent a lot of time there. I remember bringing her meals and wanting so badly to hug her and tell everything would be ok. She was only 12 years old and spent a couple weeks there. I also had to sit with her in the counseling sessions with that same man. He really knew how to try to scare you by towering over you. It had gotten to the point that the leaders wouldn't allow me to take my LIT her meals anymore because she enjoyed seeing me. Again she was only 12 years old and scared. Reading these articles brings back all the memories from there that I tried to push out of my mind. I never really had anyone to talk to that understood. I feel like I can finally let go of all the humiliation and anger of living at the ITC.
A 12 year old? WHAT? I vaguely remember the investigation into ATI, and how ATI parents were horrified at the 'allegations', and refused to believe that any real harm could be coming out of the program. That's about all I remember about it, a relative of an in-law was investigated, but nothing ever came of it. A great pity.
Oops, I mean a great pity that the program wasn't exposed. I haven't got anything against that distant relative...
these leaders like you describe would have made great communists, the kind who arrest people for being christian and put them in jail where they torture them trying to get them to recant belief in christ.