Paris Hilton leads rally against Provo Canyon School
This story was produced as part of a larger project by Jessica Miller, a participant in the 2019 Data Fellowship. It focuses on the troubled rehabilitation industry in Utah, where youth residential treatment centers are abundant but lack adequate oversight.
Also in this series:
Paris Hilton says she was abused while at Utah facility for ‘troubled teens’
Part 2: Provo Canyon School’s history of abuse accusations spans decades, far beyond Paris Hilton
Paris Hilton creates petition to shut down Provo Canyon School
Why we raised money to get reports on Utah’s ‘troubled teen’ treatment centers
Part 3: Utah faces criticism for its light oversight of ‘troubled teen’ treatment centers
Part 4: Former students at Utah troubled-teen centers say their reports of sex abuse were ignored
Utah inspectors find no problems in ‘troubled-teen’ facilities 98% of the time
Increased oversight is coming to Utah’s ‘troubled-teen’ industry
A girl, her hands zip tied, was forced to sit in a horse trough at a Utah ‘troubled-teen’ center
Utah officials want your help as they draft new rules for the ‘troubled-teen’ industry
(Rick Egan | The Salt Lake Tribune)
It’s the same account that Jen Robison has told. That Katherine McNamara has lived. That more than 100 people who gathered at a Provo park on Friday afternoon have experienced.
Though all did not go to Provo Canyon School, they went to the same type of facility in Utah and elsewhere for so-called “troubled teens.”
But instead of getting help, they say they were mistreated and abused.
They traveled from all across the country Friday to gather in Utah to stand in solidarity and called for Provo Canyon School to be shut down.
“Today, I’m not here as Paris Hilton,” the 39-year-old celebrity told the crowd. “I’m here as just another survivor who was abused, who has lived with that since the day I left. And I am dedicated to shutting down Provo Canyon School, which will cause a chain reaction among this entire industry.”
Those gathered Friday made posters and exchanged stories of what happened to them after they were sent to similar facilities as teenagers. For many, it was the first time they felt empowered to speak out about abuse.
“Raise your hand,” Robison told the crowd Friday, “if you are a survivor of institutional child abuse.”
Nearly everyone in the crowd raised their hands, including Hilton.
“Raise your hand,” Robison said, “if you were ever made to strip down in front of strangers in your program.”
Dozens of hands went up.
They raised their hands saying they had been told they were bad and unworthy, that they had been traumatized as children long before being sent to a troubled teen facility, that they saw staff members sexually abusing children in their care.
The group, led by Hilton, then went on a silent march past Provo Canyon School’s boys campus, an effort that organizers said was intended to let the kids in that facility know there was someone advocating for them.
Hilton said that moment felt “so empowering.”
“To be out there on the streets just feels amazing,” she told The Salt Lake Tribune. “But just to be here with hundreds of survivors and everyone with their signs, it was just a very powerful and empowering feeling that we are making a difference. That we are being seen.”
The gathering was the latest in a sustained campaign to force one of Utah’s largest youth residential treatment centers to close its doors. Hilton said her advocacy work will continue, which will include not just efforts to shut down Provo Canyon School, but pushing for federal legislation that will provide national oversight of the industry.
Hilton’s parents sent their 17-year-old daughter to Provo Canyon because she was sneaking out to go to parties. This was the last, but not the first, treatment facility Hilton went to. She was a resident there for 11 months.
“That was the worst of the worst,” Hilton has said. “There’s no getting out of there. You’re sitting on a chair and staring at a wall all day long, getting yelled at or getting hit.”
Hilton recalled in the documentary that she felt the staff enjoyed hurting children or seeing them naked as they showered. She said she and others were often overmedicated.
On Friday, Hilton said this was her first trip back to Provo since she left the school. She said she was nervous, and a member of the group, which was dressed all in black, responded “we all are.”
“They want us to be ashamed and we’re not the ones who should be ashamed,” Hilton told the crowd. “The people who should be ashamed are the ones who work at these places.”
She ended by saying, “Let’s get these places shut down.”
“The more I’ve learned about this industry, the more it blows my mind,” Robison told the crowd Friday. “The billions of dollars. The thousands of survivors. I’ve learned that my story is not unique. Not by a long shot. I’ve learned that there are thousands upon thousands of survivors and that so few of us have been able to come forward and speak publicly about what happened.”
Adam McClain, the CEO of Provo Canyon School, would not address individual allegations because of privacy laws. He did previously issue a statement in response to the Tribune’s investigation into the school.
He noted that mental health treatment has evolved over the past 20 years from a “behaviors-based foundation” to a “personalized, trauma-informed approach.” He said the facility does not use solitary confinement as a form of intervention and does not use drugs or medications as a disciplinary measure.
He said the youths they work with have complex needs and are often a danger to themselves or others.
“We are concerned that the current media coverage may increase the stigma around seeking help for behavioral health concerns,” he said. “This would be a disservice if it leads people away from seeking necessary care and increases the stigma around mental health that providers, organizations, advocates and members of the public have worked so hard — and made much progress over the years — to break.”
The statement said, “While we acknowledge there are individuals over the many years who believe they were not helped by the program, we are heartened by the many stories former residents share about how their stay was a pivot point in improving — and in many cases, saving — their lives.”
For many in the crowd on Friday, it wasn’t just about Provo Canyon School. They had been in other places, but had similar experiences.
Like Cassandra Hardin, a 31-year-old who traveled from Washington, D.C., to attend the gathering.
She had gone to Logan River Academy, another Utah facility, and held a sign Friday that had a photo of another former student on it. It was her classmate, Abbey Meany, who died by suicide in 2017.
Hardin said Meany had struggled, but felt that their time at Logan River Academy had contributed to the woman ending her life.
She wanted to remember Meany on Friday as she gathered with the others who now call themselves survivors.
“This means everything,” she said. “This is a very deep-running and old issue that’s been going on for decades and has been traumatizing kids for that long. But I’ve never seen the community so galvanized as I have now.”
[This story was originally published by The Salt Lake Tribune.]