Caroline Yates

541 Days Road, Kingston, ON K7M3R8, CA

The Reclamation Project: The Value of Living Life at the Helm

Stories of life in an institution and the voices that closed them

Caroline Yates

I became a Developmental Services Worker when the college program was still called Mental Retardation Counsellor. While I was at school I really enjoyed my placements. One was at Ongwanada Hospital in the Hopkins building for children. I was in the workshop. I loved the kids there! They were the most beautiful kids ever. It was well run by the nurses who really cared for the children. I was always sure there was no abuse there.

I also did a placement at a school in Belleville where behaviour modification techniques were used. I remember a young boy with behavioural issues who would have to repeatedly stand up and sit down when he refused to comply with a demand or a program. It was the standard protocol of the day.

I then became employed at Prince Edward Heights in Picton, in the Craig building, and worked for 6 months on Area A, a ward for approximately 40 women. The women were divided into 2 wings of the ward, each with 6 bedrooms that kept a maximum of 4 people per room. Each woman had a bed and a locked closet that kept her clothing and all personal belongings. There was a large Tv/activity room on each wing, a large bathroom with 4 tubs per room, and a staff office with a closet for medications on the back wing. The front wing at the intersection housed the kitchen and dining room, managers’ office, staff washrooms, laundry room and housekeeping closet.

I enjoyed my job, but there were instances that did not fit with my training or beliefs. There was a staff person who was extremely abusive. One of the women living on the ward could not communicate for herself due to the level of her disabilities. This staff person kicked her several times in the chest while another staff member watched the door to make sure no one came in. As a young woman, and a new staff, I was appalled at what I was witnessing but I also understood that you do nothing. As everyone witnessed abuse, it was considered worse behavior to report it than to engage in it.

In order to perform personal care for that many people, routines were very regimented and very much like an assembly line of people. Individuals lined up for meals, which were always at the same time. Some women would leave the ward to go to programs but most would sit in the activity room all day simply waiting for the next meal to be delivered. In the evening, they all went into the washroom for showers and pajamas, and then to bed. One staff on medication duty would come around 3 to 4 times per day and give people their medications. If people refused their medications or became agitated, staff would group together and hold the person while they took their medications. If people misbehaved, meals were often withheld.

I then began working on Area B. It was the same layout and routines as Area A but it was a ward for adult men. I loved working with the male clients and for the most part I was happy at work. Once again, there were some staff who were extremely abusive to the clients. One of the assistant supervisors would line up the “bad” clients at the beginning of the shift (five or six men), rap them with his knuckles on the head and tell them each “You better be good”. He would boast of knowing exactly where to hit them without showing any marks. The routines were the same except the men would have daily programs for learning life skills such as bed making, teeth brushing, shoe tying, etc. Staff were supposed to spend time teaching these skills following steps that were broken down with instructions on a check list, making notes about difficulties etc. Some of the staff would just sign off on the programs without actually doing them and sit and watch TV all morning. Individuals received limited attention or interaction. They would sit in chairs in the activity room watching shows chosen by staff on TV. Those that were not interested in TV sat, often rocking to self stimulate, waiting for the next meal. Personality conflicts would often break out and men would begin acting out, which was usually dealt with by punishment, or staff intimidation.

Men were constantly punished with refused meals. Some never received anything extra. Some men were taken off the ward to recreational programs. Most men sat in the activity room or out in the courtyard. Each area had its own fenced in yard. Showers were given every day. They were completed quickly and men were mostly just hosed down.

I once saw an individual coming out of the bathroom with a gash on his forehead. A staff person followed him out. I reported this to the assistant supervisor but he was the man who did the knuckle punching. He went back to that staff and told him to watch out for me. There was so much abuse it was ridiculous. I was a frightened young woman who didn’t know what to do.

Another time, while I worked on area B, I supported someone who had severe grand mal seizures. He had a seizure one morning and he couldn’t eat his breakfast. I came to work at 1 pm and he had still not eaten his breakfast, or his lunch. At 3 pm another staff person came in. She got angry with this person because he often swore after a seizure. She kicked him out of the dining room at supper and again at snack time, after he had missed all of his meals that day. Not wanting to speak out against her, I snuck him some food after he went to bed and told him not to turn the light on. He turned it on and got caught by this woman. She came out yelling, “Who gave so and so food?!” I admitted to it and said, “report me and let’s see who wins”!

I transferred away from the Craig building to Training &Rehabilitation in the Village and worked at the halfway house. It was a program house teaching individuals from the wards how to live in the houses within “the village”. The staff working here were caring and professional. All programs were completed with patience and care. One day I was taking a woman who lived on Area A back to her home after program. When I arrived on the area, I witnessed the following: A resident who was known to sneak food was able to get into the kitchen as staff forgot to lock it. When caught by a staff member, this staff called another staff to help. These two women held the client against the wall and forced her to eat a “pepper sandwich” – a slice of bread with a whole lot of black pepper on it. The client was nonverbal, although she was able to scream, but this was ignored. Her head was hitting the wall as they forced her to eat. I reported the abuse to the supervisor. That night, the supervisor called the 2 staff and told them about the report. They devised a story to cover themselves by the next day. I went to my manager, who stood behind me and was very supportive. Although the staff had a story ready, the client had been taken to the nurse in the morning and there was a report of burning in her mouth. Even with that, another witness, and a 3 page report of the abuse, the women were only punished with 5 days without pay, and they were allowed to pick the days they lost.

After I reported the abuse I remember someone warning a man I worked with saying, “You better watch out for her, she’s against abuse.” I lost friends after reporting the abuse because you just don’t tell on your brothers and sisters in the union. The union rep told people to blacklist me because I had reported staff. I even heard rumours of threats against my family and children. After having my own child with disabilities, someone even had the nerve to say it was my karma for reporting abuse. On the other side, some people came forward to show their support. They were too afraid to report abuse and were glad that I had spoken up.

I’ll say it again…there was nothing GOOD for the clients at PEH. There was a lot of abuse although there were only a handful of abusers. Yet, we were all abusers because we kept silent.

I returned to Craig and started working on Area C, with awesome staff. I felt safe, the people that lived there felt safe. There was more interaction. I often wondered how that happens where you can have one area that was so good and one area that was so bad.

I then went to work in the new children’s group home where one staff was very abusive. She slapped the kids all the time. There were many problems with arguing and complaining amongst staff.

People who lived in the institution were often abused because of how they reacted to discipline. One man was angry because he was placed into the time-out room and then acted out against it by smearing his feces all over the room. Another man who was deaf would often pinch and bite staff, and was not afraid of women, but was afraid of men. One day a male staff was sitting with him, refusing his requests for a smoke and punching his arm every time he signed it. This particular staff was mad at me that day and was hitting this person because he knew it would bug me. I yelled at the staff and he got up and left. The individual got up, ran over to me, and I thought that I was going to be attacked – but instead he sat down beside me and kissed me on the cheek. I had the feeling of having done something right by this person by speaking up for him.

Before I left Prince Edward Heights I got a call to work at the Behavioural House in the Village. I knew that 2 of the staff were very abusive and would beat clients with sticks. I was very afraid of them because they were united in their abuse, so I did nothing.

Staff would often steal from the people they supported. When new clothing would be delivered from the stores department, staff would steal all the nice clothes. Even people who didn’t abuse others physically, abused them in other ways. There were many medical abuses with the over giving of prn’s (sedating medications) for bad behaviours. There was a lot of neglect. In the Village most staff would sit in one house drinking coffee and only go to assist individuals with their meds, meals and showers.

My main support throughout it all was my husband, who also worked at PEH. He worked in Craig and we are sure that he didn’t get a promotion there because of my report of abuse. He transferred to the Village and there he got his promotion.

I finally realized that when you get a voice, you are all alone. Honestly, working in the institutions was nothing that school had ever prepared me for. There were many good people who worked there but one abuser can take all of that away.

We can never go back to institutionalizing people. It was a sick culture, especially with the union reps requiring you to conform instead of making a staff look bad.

We can never again go back to dehumanizing people. We can’t even stay where we are.

The exclusion is still there. People are still not a part of the community.