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Words cannot express the sadness I feel and the wreckage I view in the lives of others, many of whom I personally knew during my time at Via as the result of things that happened at Via over the course of many years.

For the record, I was never sexually or physically abused. The dorm parents I had during the bulk of my time at Via were (and remain!) a godly example of what caring, loving "parents" should be. For that I will be forever grateful.

However, I was emotionally abused, primarily by one teacher there. Looking back on it now, I can see that teacher's reactions were merely a symptom of their own private struggles; yet that does not excuse lashing out at a pupil merely because he questions or seeks answers. Granted, I was a pretty stubborn kid at the time; yet I remember times where I was berated or, at one point, spoken to in front of the class as if I had a "problem". At the time the only "problem" I could point my finger at was my listening intently and making eye contact with the teacher as that person lectured. Yet, I was made to feel as if my attentiveness was a sign of rebellion or disrespect.

I also remember how my father had to make a last minute trip from 24 hours away to save me from being expelled from the school, even though there had been no effort to talk to me or, point out what the problem was so I could correct it. I always felt as if I was walking on egg-shells there, and any little outburst or streak of independence shown could be grounds for dismissal. Fear was not my friend, but a constant companion during much of my time at Via.

The above constitutes my experiences. I have heard whispers of sexual abuse that happened in the "little dorm". One of those abused is a very good friend of mine, whose story only recently was confirmed to me when that person told me of their experience. There are more stories of others abused, I'm sure of it. I trust God and His timing to place upon the hearts of those still aching with the burden of things they never should have experienced, to share those stories, confront their abusers, and so find peace.

My heart aches. . . yet as one person shared, Via will always remain a special place for me, too. The friendships I shared with others were life-changing, as was so much of the MK experience for me. Ironically, in hindsight, these stories of abuse have actually strengthened and deepened present friendships as I can see now why some acted the way they did back then towards me. The hurts explain much.

I will never forget playing "spoons" in the "refei", the plays I was involved in, dish duty days when your mind is set on making it in time for "volei" on the "quadra", the joys of being picked for second half "volei", "jaguar falls", trips to the valley for a bug collection in biology class, seeing the sun set or feeling the misty rains as they swept over the valley and approached "the Land".

Truly, it was a bittersweet time. My hope is that, as one person stated, bad soil and junk will be rooted out, replaced with good soil, and the bitter-sweetness of that time for many will be replaced with joy, forgiveness, and healing.

I'm sitting here & it's hard to formulate what I want to say...

I too, was not personally affected by "abuse" that went on @ Via, though my brother still bears the scars of what occured in the Little Dorm. I also wasn't @ Via for an extended period of time, nor were my parents with NTM. However, what happened there was a driving force behind my parent's decision to leave the field permanently. And I still feel its effects on me to this day.

For the most part, I was a "good" kid, striving to obey the rules & do what was "right". And though I have a lot of great memories, I still surprised at how I still struggle with emotions, unresolved issues, questions...because of what happened.

Before attending Via, I went to Puraquequara & have only happy memories from my time there, though I know it was not a perfect place. But at Via I never fully felt accepted, I felt rejection from dorm parents (we were an inconvenience...a "necessary obligation" to get into the interior/field), I was punished excessively, was shamed & humiliated over something (that I realize now as an adult) was really rather small. You would think after 20 years, it would be "over". But I don't know if it can ever feel "resolved" when there are loose ends that will never be tied up. And the truth is...the hurt is still there. Not as raw as it once was, but there none the less. I so desperately want affirmation - to know I mattered, that I was loved, that others saw the injustly...

I know the "spiritual" answers...and I'm growing...slowly, but surely. It's just frustrating that these feelings still remain.

I was at Via for a number of years and I know nothing of sexual abuse. If it happened when I was at the little dorm, I didn't know about it. I am very, very sad to hear that it did!!! After reading the Grace report on Fanda and the definition of abuse, it has become clear to me that I along with many other kids suffering physical, emotional and spiritual abuse. Some kids were beaten with belts others with paddles others with sticks. It was all because "spare the rod, spoil the child". I was made to eat soap, the farm kind used to wash clothes. Emotionally we were humiliated and put down. I remember once marking off the days on the calendar until vacation so I could go home and being balled out in front of everyone and told I was evil and ungrateful because I missed my parents. You got so you hid everything because everything eventually became a sin, something wrong you had done. And that leads me to the spiritual abuse, we were given the impression that God was severe, cruel and ruthless, out to get anyone who didn't walk the line. It took me years to get over the belief in that kind of God! At one time there was even some kind of seminar the adults went to and came back from with diagrams of a diamond, and a hammer, and a big hand on the hammer. We were the diamonds, they were the hammers, and God was the big hand. To me there is nothing more spiritually ill than that! God a big bully in the sky! Unfortunately, I think they believed in that kind of God. I remember dressing up for Halloween once and as I left my room in the little dorm, meeting up unexpectadly with one of the adults who said to me, "Jezebel painted her face and they threw her body to the dogs". Is that something you say to an 11 year old getting ready for a Halloween party? Weird or what!! So yes we were abused by very disturbed people who should never, never have been given the care of children. And that's the huge problem. What was the matter with the mission putting those kinds of people in charge of kids? Where were their minds? I'd like an answer.

I have mixed feelings about Via - I know I learned a lot there, but mostly I think through suffering, which does end up being the way we learn best. I think someone said something about walking on eggshells - that is a very good description of how my three years there went. I wasn´t sexually abused there and in terms of other abuse, there are things that happened that, as an adult, i can see were not handled correctly. While I was at Via a dorm parent was removed and I remembered my rage when they didn´t come clean with the "why". The rage was related to my own abuse suffered previously, but it also was indignation with the coverup. I´ve written to Grace and I received the response below from them and I´d like to pass it on to all of us.

As for possible manipulation (which was mentioned in someone´s post) - we are always manipulated by what we register around us. I don´t know if this works for everyone (although I suspect it does), but whenever I center down and spend a little bit of time reading from that letter God wrote us, its clear message reorientates the needle on my head compass back to pointing true North. Unfortunately, I don´t do that frequently enough. So with this whole thing with abuse, etc., I have felt those old fingers pointing at me again, judging me for talking...again But then, "speak the truth in love", says the letter, "as sheep among wolves, be as wise as serpents but as gentle as doves. Do justly, love mercy and walk humbly."

And with that in mind, I encourage everyone to write if they feel lead - don´t feel like you´re betraying. In the spirit of doing justly, loving mercy, and walking humbly, shining light on anything is good, illuminating the dark places - and if you were to find me in those dark places, doing something that hurt someone else, then I would want a chance to ask for forgiveness, and receive it, and be healed myself. Give the "perpetrators" a chance to do that too - and maybe many of them won´t - but we won´t know until we give them a chance. Forgiveness feels so good.

Now I´ll give up my soapbox, Thank you, Fanda MK´s and here´s the e-mail from GRACE below:

We are in receipt of you email. GRACE is in the process of making certain recommendations to NTM regarding what process should be used to investigate past abuse issues at other NTM boarding schools. We hope to have that to them within the next 10 days. We will communicate with you once such a process has been determined. In the meantime, please encourage others who may have been abused at Vianopolis to make contact with GRACE. Thank you very much for making contact. Be encouraged....

Peace


Boz Tchividjian, Esq.
Executive Director, GRACE
www.netgrace.org

Hi, some of you have already guessed who I am. Others of you, likely suspect but do not know. I am not revealing my identity to pressure others to do the same. Rather, I am revealing who I am so that I can let you know that the undercurrent of much that was felt, but not talked about at Via, affected us all in immeasurable ways that echo to this very day. I wish I could have seen the hurt you carried around and been a better friend. For much of my time at Via I thought the "problem" was me, that something was wrong with me. Now, I know the problem was not me, and it most certainly wasn't you; rather, it was the secrets many carried inside that made all of us incapable of truly reaching out to each other.

Hi there, my name is Michael Butler, and I love each of you, my friends. None of the abused, whether it was sexual, emotional, or spiritual . . .none of you, are alone! I stand with you, praying for each of you, and ready to cry with you, if necessary.

We all . . .each of us are handicapped emotionally, in some way, because of what happened. Remember, though, no one will ever understand an MK like another MK! So, know that I am thinking about each you, my friends. I'm praying for those who've experienced the unspeakable. May God's healing come to us, to our families, and relationships that in the past were scarred or strained, be in the present healed.

I wasn’t sexually or physically abused at Via, but the emotional, verbal, and spiritual abuse I experienced has affected me profoundly, even though it happened over half my lifetime ago. I was set apart as an especially bad kid, one of a few who held that distinctive position when I attended there. This is not to say I had it worse than others, just that my struggles were on a more public forum. I eventually learned that when I stuffed my feelings, questions, facial expressions, and my voice, I had a better chance of flying below the radar; most of the time, these responses were not in my nature and suppressing them led to psychosomatic symptoms from the anger being directed inward.

There are 13 adults other than Frank (I shudder when I read an “uncle” or “aunt” before the names of these individuals who were supposed to be our supportive and protective family members) who leap to mind as assassinating my spirit, seeming to enjoy humiliating me and others in front of an audience, often calling me a liar claiming to know my heart with God’s authority and wisdom while I pleaded with them to believe otherwise. I know now they were threatened by my brazen attempt to develop normally—I questioned authority and beliefs. I was a typical teenager, and I asked the ‘why’ questions, and was told I was wicked and a bad influence and had a bad attitude. I was ostracized and spiraled into deep depression and feelings of hopelessness.

I’m in another round of therapy now, getting help for among other things anxiety and depression; I’m facing and working to heal from the toxic thinking errors that keep me ill—lies I believe about myself, my world, and others—lies that were reiterated and forced onto me during my brain’s formative years. I thought my anger and hurt at what was happening to me was sinful and wrong, because hadn’t God called my parents to the mission field? Wasn’t I supposed to be brave and trust their self-proclaimed God-given authority over us—the authority they used to suppress individual thought, typical behavior, and any healthy questioning of authority, values, and rules?

I’m fascinated with the idea of grace—where was grace in Via? Where was that God in Via?

I often fantasize about facing my abusers now—the words I would say with the power and understanding I never had as a child. Sometimes these “conversations” turn into a loop-like recording, and it takes ongoing energy to get and stay unstuck. I’m angry at being victimized and angry at myself for not insisting my younger siblings leave the hellish environment when I graduated. I’m angry that some of those who hurt me most are still listed on NTM’s website as serving in Brazil. I’m angry that the unforgiveable actions are perpetuating a message to the world that Christians are hypocrites and jokes, a message that has eternal ramifications.

Still healing, Your description of how you were treated reminds me of how I was treated there. I was considered to be quite bad, basically because I asked questions. It's all such a long time ago, but I do remember being called to a board meeting. I was in the middle of home ec class when one of the men came along and marched me out to the meeting. I don't know how many adults were there, but most of the big bosses. They all sat on one side of table and I sat by myself facing them. One by one they would rip into me and tell me what a wicked person I was and the idea was that I was to breakdown weeping and ask for repentance. I refused to cry and at the end of the session they asked me if I had anything to say, I said no. They then asked me if I didn't want to repent. I said I had nothing to repent of, I hadn't stolen, cheated or lied, why should I repent? This whole session went on for about 3 hours, over supper time. For three hours they told me I was no good. At the end of the semester I was kicked out and told never to come back. Some of my friends were told not to associate with me because I was too wicked. At the time, it really shook me up. It took me years to get over the treatment. But because of this type of experience, I can't understand how people can 'miss' Via or be fond of the past. To me the past was hell. I used to wake up and before I was fully awake, I'd think I was back there, then I'd come to and realize I wasn't at Via anymore. What a relief!