Valdosta Daily Times

October 30, 2013

Parents still turn to troubled-youth ranches

Associated Press

ALBUQUERQUE, N.M. — David Hall was afraid of his own son. They were getting into violent, physical fights requiring police intervention. Fearing the teen would end up in juvenile detention, Hall had his son hauled away in handcuffs and shackles to a southern New Mexico ranch for troubled youths.

He didn’t see him again for 11 months, when police raided the Tierra Blanca ranch amid allegations of abuse.

There are few options for parents like Hall, and in that vacuum, a relatively unregulated, off-the-grid industry of reform youth camps has flourished, despite a decade of high-profile cases alleging beatings and other abuse at some camps.

Proponents of such programs — which can cost upward of $100,000 a year — say they are an effective, last-ditch solution to save troubled youth from the criminal justice system.

“My feeling is that I would rather have my 17-year-old son in shackles than go to visit him at 18 in shackles in state prison,” Hall said. “He really is a changed young man. He laughs, he smiles and he is trying to make up for all of the bad things in the past.”

Others insist stronger regulation and oversight is needed.

A 2007 Government Accountability Office found thousands of allegations of abuse at such facilities from 1990 to 2007, including 1,619 reports against residential program staff members in 33 states in 2005. The GAO said it could not identify a more comprehensive number because it could not locate a single website, federal agency, or other entity that collects comprehensive nationwide data.

The National Association of Therapeutic Schools and Programs, a trade association that represents about 150 programs, estimates there are about 400 programs operating in the country. But executive director Cliff Brownstein admits that is just a rough guess based on a recruitment list, and he adds that many programs wouldn’t qualify to belong to his association because it requires members to be licensed by the state or otherwise certified by one of several independent bodies.

That is one of the biggest problems in assessing such programs: How do you verify information from troubled kids? At New Mexico’s Tierra Blanca ranch, for instance, some students allege they were beaten, starved and denied medical care. Others, like Hall’s son Bryce, deny any abuse or neglect.

“There is not a teenager alive that wants to be in one of those programs,” said Mark Sklarow, executive director of the Independent Educational Consultants Association, a nonprofit in Fairfax, Va., that helps families find the right programs for their troubled children. “You take a kid playing video games all day doing drugs with his buddies. You ship him off to one of these programs, they are going to say anything to get home.”

Further exacerbating the problem is that many of the homes, like Tierra Blanca, are unlicensed and operate in remote Western states. They can prey on anxious parents in desperate situations, some facing court deadlines to place their child in a residential treatment program or have them sent to juvenile detention, he said.