It was 1977, I was 17 and pregnant, and not married. My parents were horrified and immediately started making arrangements through their church to have me sent away, far away, so as not to bring shame on them or the church. My parents were told by the church who arranged my “visit” that it was a home for unwed mothers – NOT. Turns out it was actually a half-way house for juvenile delinquents.
While I was there, I witnessed a lot of things that still give me nightmares, and it has been 30 years since I was there. I was not a delinquent or a trouble maker, and was not used to being around the kind of girls who were sentenced by the courts for rehabilitation in this half way house. I was also not used to being treated like a second class citizen, so it was definitely a culture shock for me. The only thing I had done “wrong” was have sex outside of marriage.
Upon arrival, I was strip searched and all my personal belongings were taken away. I was given 3 dresses, underwear, bra, and some knee socks. Shoes were not allowed unless one of the area pastors came to visit, or some kind of inspection was being made. Hairdryers and makeup were forbidden at all times.
Some of the girls who I guess were the “delinquents” would arrive for the first time, and when their bags were searched drugs were often found. These girls were whipped with a large wooden paddle and were given harsher workloads during their stay.
Fortunately the pregnant girls got a lower workload and did not have to work in the fields and gardens where most of the food was grown. The food was adequate most of the time, except for the days we had to fast. The pregnant girls got a glass of juice on fasting days, the others got nothing. Everyone was placed on a highly regulated diet consisting of no sugar and only foods grown from the garden and fields. Overweight girls were ridiculed and placed on a strict diet. Underweight girls were given extra food and noone was allowed to leave the table until all the food on their plates was gone. Everyone loved it when one of the area pastors came to visit at mealtime because we all got a lot of food and we even got a talk to each other in quiet hushed voices.
Being pregnant, I craved sweets, and they were forbidden. I remember one time finding a small candy cane underneath the mattress of my bed. I don’t know how long it had been there and the color was faded and it was really soft and sticky … but I ate it anyway and it was the best thing I had eaten in my life! I still remember the taste today every time I see a candy cane.
Most of our time was spent indoors in the “great room”, where we ate our meals and spent the majority of our time. All the windows were whitewashed so we couldn’t see outside. Each day had a routine, and there wasn’t much idle time. We were woken up at 5 am and made our beds and then sat down in the hallways to wait for breakfast. After breakfast we had prayer time and bible reading for 2 hours and did our assigned chores. Then lunch time came and after lunch we had more bible reading, prayer or singing church hymns for 2-3 hours, then an hour of “free time”. Free time meant giving testimonies or listening to testimonies of others. Then we went outside for a walk for 30 minutes, or stayed inside and did various exercises if the weather was too bad to go outside. Each girl had 2 guards beside her at all times when we were outside. After exercise, we had more bible study and had to memorize scripture verses each day and recite them back the next day. Then it was supper time. Then we had 1 hour of free time to write letters to home.
Letters home were not the typical letters home. It was mandatory that we write home once a week, but all letters were screened by the people who ran the home. Each letter had to meet certain criteria in order for it to make it to the mailbox. You had to say how happy you were to be there, how much you loved God, and if you said anything negative the letters were torn up and you had to write another one until it passed inspection.
Phone calls were forbidden, only once during my 5 month stay was I allowed to call home. One of the guards was in the room listening on an extension the entire time, and when I started telling my mother the true situation they disconnected the call.
Everyone had chores that were to be completed every day. Not everyone did every chore, but everyone had a chore. There were inspections daily after chore time to make sure things were done to perfection. If not, the guards got out the wooden paddle. They did not spank the pregnant girls, we got hit with a ruler on our hands. The pregnant girls chores were to clean the toilets with a toothbrush inside and out and to pick the carpets free from lint. They wouldn’t let us vacuum; we had to pick it clean by hand.
Most of the girls slept on the floor because there were not enough beds to go around. The pregnant girls all got beds. There were guards who slept across the doorways to each room during the night to prevent anyone trying to escape. I’m not sure how anyone would escape, as all the doors were locked and the windows were nailed shut. I guess they could have tried breaking out the glass but that would make noise and they wouldn’t have been very successful. We weren’t supposed to go to the bathroom during the night, but pregnancy does not allow you to “hold your water” all night … so we got chastised a lot for waking up the guards to escort us to the restroom in the middle of the night.
And speaking of going to the bathroom … of course a guard went with us and we were given one square of toilet paper, no matter what kind of “business” we had to do. I had quite a phobia about using too much toilet paper after I got out of that place.
Shower time wasn’t much better. We showered every night before going to bed, and showered in groups in community showers. We had to stand in line naked while waiting for out turn to shower. The pregnant girls were chastised and made fun of by the guards. They would tell the other girls that this is what would happen to them if they were sinful and lustful.
There were 2 other pregnant girls present while I was there. No talking was allowed most of the time, but we managed to communicate in different ways. One of the girls knew sign language and would pass notes to us to teach us enough sign language that we could converse a bit with each other.
The owners of the home discovered I had one year of beauty school when they found my hair cutting scissors in my bags during my initial luggage inspection. Of course they confiscated the scissors, but later made me use them to cut everyone’s hair. All the girls were lined up and I was instructed to cut their hair very very short. Some of the girls there had long beautiful hair and cried hysterically as I was cutting it off. I felt really bad but didn’t have a choice. After I got out I did finish beauty school but never felt comfortable cutting anyone’s hair short, so I specialized in perms, wedding updos, and color.
I got to go into town one time to see a doctor to check the pregnancy and set a due date. We took a van and they covered the windows with newspaper so we couldn’t see out. When I was filling out the medical paperwork, they made me write down that I had taken cocaine. I put up quite a fuss over this because I had never done cocaine and certainly would not do so if I was pregnant. I was told that if I didn’t write it down I would have to pay for the doctor’s visit. I was naive and didn’t know any better so I went along with it. It still haunts me to this day because the adoptive parents were told that I was a drug addict – I found this out later after being reunited with the daughter I had given up for adoption.
The title of this article is “what I learned at a half-way house …” but I’m not sure I really learned anything … at least not anything that made my life better. All I left with was some phobias, a lot of mistrust in humans, a dislike for authority, and an empty place in my heart for the baby I left behind.
