“Mirrors is not for ‘bad’ children,” explained graduate Zana-Kay Douglas. “The Mirrors programme is for self growth and development. You set goals and say ‘this is who I choose to be’. And you keep on improving.”Now 18-years-old, Ms Douglas was a student at CedarBridge Academy when Mirrors representatives came to recruit.She was among 40 young men and women, aged 15 to 18, who pledged to join the November 2010 “intensive residential” — six days in the Willowbank Hotel that would push her to the limit.Participants are asked to share from day one, Mirrors volunteer Kerry Judd explained.“Crazy,” is how Ms Douglas describes her first experience of talking about herself in public — and her Mirrors course hadn’t even started yet.Among personal details on her initial application form, she had to write a vision statement and set three goals for herself.“Those goals were to learn to express myself and talk about problems, to build a better relationship with my mother and to improve my attitude.”An enrolment coach checked in with her before the residential. Then came the pre course day at the Whitney Institute.Recalled Ms Douglas: “I didn’t know most of the people in the room. We didn’t go too much into personal, personal details, but it was my first time going in front of a big crowd of people. It took a whole day.” She added: “That there was crazy.”The adage with Mirrors is that it’s right for everybody — but not everybody is right for Mirrors. In the Island’s public schools, however, it quickly proved immensely popular.Ms Judd said: “Mirrors’ initial intent was to enrol 100 young people, with the goal of getting 35 to actually participate in the residential. However, for the 15 to 18-year-old group, it consistently was over-enrolled and participants can now number between 40 and 45 per cohort.”Embarking on their six-day residential, the recruits had to surrender cell phones.“No BlackBerry, no Facebook,” said Ms Douglas. “You’re allowed to call your parents but nothing personal. It was pretty tough not being able to bring in my flat iron, too.”The first morning began at the Seventh-day Adventist Centre on King Street.“Everything came out of the bag. I thought it was just going to be a security pat-down,” she said. “The volunteers go through the same thing.”The Willowbank resort, she added, was “a nice place — but they really made you try”.“They had us getting up 8am — even when it rained you had to go outside — and going to bed after 12am. In the morning there were exercises like running, carrying jugs of water, jumping ropes. Sometimes it was hard, but you had to do it.”Tougher still was the course room, where a facilitator with a microphone made the sharing and revelation begin.During sessions, rival gang members have faced one another. Participants have revealed truths of sexual abuse, addiction and ordinary fears and insecurities.What happens in the room is not discussed outside of it. Mirrors and its volunteers go through great pains to create a safe space for sharing.“At the time I participated, there were 40 in the group. And we had to talk in front of the volunteers and coaches too.“So when you were picked, you had to talk in front of them all. It’s based on agreements; you have to speak, and you have to listen 100 percent.“So when I got called on, I’d have to take the microphone and stand up,” Ms Douglas said.“I didn’t want to talk, but I started to trust people. To start off with, I didn’t trust anybody. I knew a few people on a personal level. Some people I’d never spoken to. But hearing them talk about their problems made me feel better about mine.”Even with people she thought she knew well, Ms Douglas quickly found herself seeing things differently.Ms Judd said: “We create a safe space. Whether you’re a volunteer or a young person, you can speak without fear of retribution or judgment. They go through 60 hours in the course room over a six day period.”Another Mirrors adage is: you can’t expect someone to change completely in a week.“There’s an expectation for the young people to come out ‘fixed’, like off a conveyor belt,” Ms Judd said. “It’s not uncommon, whether from teachers or family.”The programme starts at orientation and there are many opportunities to step away, including the morning of the residential.Some choose to step out and occasionally some will be asked to step away if they are not ready.Ms Douglas said the nine-month follow up, when participants are assigned a personal life coach, was equally tough.“The life coach is not a mentor. They’re not there to give advice,” she said. “My life coach was Cerepha Brangman and we got along really good.“She was in the police. It didn’t bother me — I wasn’t drinking or something or doing anything illegal. When she was with me, she was a coach, not a police officer.”They met about three times a week.“The coach helps you to achieve your goals. They don’t make you.“She’d ask me what was going on in my life, take me through action steps, like getting a better relationship with my mother, having conversations instead of arguing.“And I would rate myself with a number, from a negative up to a three. Say if an argument started with my mother and I didn’t talk back — that was a three.”Mirrors uses goals and ratings in what is known in project management as the SMART method — the acronym being Specific, Measurable, Achievable and Timely.“I liked it,” Ms Douglas said. “I was not a person to talk to just anybody. That’s why it helps. I kept stuff bottled up and that’s when you go crazy.”Graduation came in August, at Elliott Primary, with completion certificates and special achievement awards.“After that nine months and graduation, you can always call your coach, but you don’t have to meet up every week. We kept in contact. I’d finished with my three main goals. I was focusing in school, giving it my best. I have a good relationship with my family.”Next, she said: “I created new goals.”Zana-Kay Douglas is currently enrolled at the Bermuda College.