recovery

Making safe, inclusive space

Clockwise from the top left: Tanja Demajo, Shelley Karrel, Amanda Haymond Malul and Rabbi Yechiel Baitelman participate in a JACS Vancouver panel discussion Oct. 15.

“When someone comes through the door and says, ‘I’m an addict. I’m a recovering addict,’ do they feel judged or do they feel accepted? Do they feel that we are putting them in a box, giving them a label?” asked Rabbi Yechiel Baitelman in a recent community discussion. “We have to identify the illness, there’s no question about that. But, is that the only way to view a human being? I think to respect every human being for their humanity, that’s what people are really craving – respect and love.”

Baitelman, director of Chabad Richmond, was one of three panelists on the topic Building Safe and Inclusive Spaces for Those Affected by Addiction and Mental Illness. He was joined by Tanja Demajo, chief executive officer of Jewish Family Services (JFS), and Amanda Haymond Malul, a community member in recovery, in the Oct. 15 event presented by Jewish Addiction Community Services (JACS) Vancouver. JACS Vancouver’s Shelley Karrel moderated the conversation.

Haymond Malul would like to see more community discussions on addiction and people being taught acceptance. She spoke of the need to “have support from the religious leaders of the community, from every single agency in the community, to start talking about it – make it acceptable, educate.” (See jewishindependent.ca/help-repair-the-world.)

And we need to ensure that what we are teaching is in line with our actions, said Demajo. “If we talk to children about acceptance, but we don’t actually practise that, that’s creating double standards where we talk about certain things, but that’s not what people experience,” she said. This could be damaging, she said, to people who “really need that support and want to trust.”

We must see each member of the community as a human being, said Baitelman. Love is important, but, he said, “Love is on my terms, respect is on your terms. If I love you, it’s more a reflection of who I am. But, if I respect you, it’s more of a reflection of how I see you, what you are about – and I think that’s really important. Respect the humanity. If you can love them, that’s even greater. But respect is more fundamental.”

When Karrel asked panelists for tangible ways in which people could be more accepting and inclusive, with love and respect, Demajo said agencies are overwhelmed with the number of people needing support. She said it is up to each of us to connect on a personal level with others, accepting that it will take time for them to trust us enough to share.

“You have to build a relationship, and a relationship is not built overnight,” said Demajo. “I had a client who I often think of, a person who spent a number of years [in the] Downtown Eastside being homeless, not having pretty much anything in his life…. He would come to see me … and we would speak about books, because he was a huge reader and I love reading. It took him six months until he really started talking about things that were going on in his life and what he actually needed, and we started working from there. Now, he has a regular life. He has a home. He brought his family back. He is working. So, things are in a place that he wanted … a number of years ago. Recovery is a process of being vulnerable and, so, if social services don’t have the time to invest in people, I think we are setting ourselves up for a really huge failure.”

All panelists agreed that having a drop-in centre with people who understand is absolutely essential and that, while professional support would be ideal, it is not essential. To be kind, respectful and loving, you do not need to be a professional, they said.

While there are recovery clubs in the general community, Haymond Malul said it would be great if there were also one in the Jewish community – “having a safe place for people to come and be able to drop in, and know that this is the Hillel House of Recovery,” she said.

However, having a community place might inhibit some people from coming out, due to fear of being exposed, warned Demajo. “The other piece is that I do feel that what Amanda has done tonight, speaking of her own experience and being in the community, and [talking about] some of the things that were helpful for her, is important to start with; having those opportunities to open up the conversation – not just for me, in a professional role, but from a personal place – because that is where the relationship happens. I do believe that is the core of whatever we come up with – the core is the relationship.”

Each of us is deserving of respect, regardless of our achievements, successes, failures or addictions, stressed Baitelman. “The fact that you were created by G-d makes you worthy of the highest form of respect and no judgment,” he said.

“Why would I not be involved with somebody who’s in recovery?” asked the rabbi. “After all, these people are accountable. They’re working on character development and are improving certain areas of their lives that they have the courage to acknowledge need to be corrected. They’re actively making amends with people around them. They are working on a conscious relationship with G-d rather than on other forms of success that society often judges success by. This is really an achievement.

“How many of us would like to change even one iota of our character, and people in recovery have changed more than one iota. They have made an incredible change, which is so admirable and should command respect. I think that’s part of the attitude that should be helpful in the broader community, and how we act with people, and the stigma.”

Karrel closed the discussion by giving a brief synopsis of JACS and its services. “We are working to diminish the stigma of addiction,” she told the Independent after the event. “Let’s keep this conversation going so we all feel we belong in our community.”

Rebeca Kuropatwa is a Winnipeg freelance writer.

Help repair the world

I am flipping through one of my social media outlets, as I lie on my bed, cuddling my 7-month-old baby to sleep. A picture catches my eye. Garbage strewn in front of a restaurant. I look closer, puzzled as to why someone would post a picture of garbage. Then I see. Discarded needles littered amongst the garbage. I read the accompanying message. The poster says that we need to relocate addicts to a secured facility in the north. Provide them with drugs and food and medical care, but we need to get them off of our streets.

I scroll through the comments. I cringe as I read them. I see posts such as, “These people,” “Get them off of our streets,” “Decided to act against societal norms,” “Until they wish to act like proper citizens,” “Undesirables” and so much worse.

The poster is Jewish. Many of the people commenting are Jewish.

My mouth drops open. I take a sharp breath and feel a pain deep inside of me. My heart hurts. I want to cry. My hands shake. It takes all the strength I have not to respond. I am hurt and angry. I shake my head in pain.

I am a recovering alcoholic and drug addict. I haven’t had a drink or a drug in a little over 20 years.

Yes, I am one of those undesirables. So is my husband. My mother and some of my best, most cherished friends.

I was 25 years old when I found recovery. I am one of the lucky ones. I never lived on the street. I didn’t do needles. I didn’t have to experience that kind of bottom, but what being in recovery has taught me is that I am no different than those who live on the streets, than those who inject themselves with needles. Because I am an addict. Once I use, I can’t stop.

The American Psychiatric Association classifies addiction as a complex brain disease that is manifested by compulsive substance use despite harmful consequence. I have a brain disease. I will drink and drug even though it causes harm to me and those close to me. Once I use, I don’t care about anything else. I have a disease that I have to live with and battle for the rest of my life. It is painful. It is a struggle. Some days are easier than others, but the fact of the matter is, I have to live with a disease that can return at any moment. Like a person in remission from cancer.

Does the Jewish community not want me or my children because I am an addict? Am I less of a worthy Jew because of my disease? What about my children? Even as I write this, my heart is beating fast, my breathing is shaky. I think of v’ahavta l’reacha kamocha. I think of how we, as Jews, are commanded to love the stranger who dwells among us, to have one law for the stranger and the citizen, to never embarrass our fellow human beings in public, and to guard our tongues and speak no evil.

Where is the love of humankind when we classify human beings as undesirables? Where is the humanity in suggesting that we take human beings and put them into remote locations, away from civilization? Is this starting to sound familiar? Perhaps like the Shoah? When Hitler classified us Jews as undesirables? Did those Jews have a choice as to whether or not they were classified as Jews even?

I have a disease. I did not choose to be an addict. I did not know, when I drank my first drink and smoked my first joint that I would end up addicted. I was a kid. I did what almost every other teenager did. I experimented. None of my friends from high school are addicts. I am. I got it.

Addicts come from all walks of life. They are your teachers, your lawyers, your doctors, heads of companies, celebrities. They are also those living on the street and leaving their dirty needles behind. Addiction doesn’t discriminate based on your ethnicity, your socioeconomic status or your religion, yet we, as a community, want to believe that addiction doesn’t happen among our tribe. I can tell you that it does. I can also tell you that there are many Jewish addicts and their families who are afraid to come forward precisely because they are afraid that they will be looked down upon and judged as morally impaired. As undesirables.

This, to me, is morally reprehensible. We, as a community, need to act with love. Let’s help repair the world that we live in so that we can love and support all people, even when they are sick with a disease that we don’t understand. It is our duty as Jews. V’ahavta l’reacha kamocha and tikkun olam. Love your fellow as yourself and help repair what is broken.

Amanda Haymond Malul is a JACS (Jewish Addiction Community Service) Vancouver supporter.

Talking helps reduce stigma

Left to right: Peggy Allen, Shelley Karrel, Shelley Rivkin, Jordan Bowman and Howard Harowitz. (photo from JACS Vancouver)

The capacity for transformation and healing was front and centre at the event Optimism and Hope: Erasing Stigma of Mental Illness, Addiction and Homelessness.

Co-sponsored by Jewish Family Services (JFS), Tikva Housing and Jewish Addiction Community Services (JACS) Vancouver, the panel discussion on Feb. 26 was held at Temple Sholom. It featured Shelley Rivkin of the Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver, Abbotsford entrepreneur and volunteer Peggy Allen, and Jordan Bowman of Last Door treatment and recovery centre in New Westminster.

Temple Sholom’s Rabbi Dan Moskovitz welcomed those gathered by talking about the Aleinu prayer, which, he said, asks us “to go out into the world and do what we’re praying for. And so, if I can make a request of all of us, myself included, it’s to go out from this room and to do and to share what we’ve learned and what we’ve heard tonight with our families and with our broader circle. That’s our shlichut, that’s our sacred mission, beyond just coming here today to get what we need for ourselves.”

JACS Vancouver board chair Howard Harowitz briefly described the missions of each of the event sponsors before introducing the night’s speakers, beginning with Rivkin, who shared the stories of a few community members who have been impacted by the risk of homelessness. She prefaced her remarks by saying homelessness is not limited to people living on the street or who live in shelters. Rather, the growing concern in our community is “relative homelessness, the lack of suitable, consistent and predictable housing,” she said.

She also noted that “it is not a natural equation that addiction, mental health and homelessness are faced by all people” in need. “Each person has to be approached individually and uniquely,” she said, then listed six sources of support in our community: JFS, Tikva Housing, Yaffa Housing, JACS, the Kehila Society of Richmond and the community’s synagogues.

Originally from Regina, Sask., Allen has lived in Abbotsford for a long time. She lives in an area where homeless people have gathered since the Salvation Army moved into the neighbourhood in 2004. A wife and the mother of two children, the situation was very difficult initially. She shared stories of her young granddaughter witnessing people having sex and shooting up, and of being chased out of her home by a crack addict.

“I was quite a happy person and then the homeless moved in and I changed forever,” she said. “I got angrier and angrier and angrier and I ended up making, in 15 years, I made 463 calls to the police. And they came every time and did nothing, because what are they going to do?”

Allen said she became very depressed. Then, she was invited to a meeting at city hall about the homeless. She challenged attendees to come and see the extent of the problem for themselves, and two women from Fraser Health took her up on it. Over coffee, Allen shared with them her concerns and, despite her self-described antagonism to them, they invited her to speak at a meeting of the Drug War Survivors, a peer-based user group that participates in the development of harm-reduction policies, among other things.

Reluctantly, she agreed. Expecting an audience of maybe 10 drug addicts, “there were 110 of them,” she said. “I look around and I open my mouth and I just let it all out. I don’t know what happened, it was a miracle, really. I talked about my father and I talked about him beating my mother so desperately,” waking Allen’s sister, who was told to return to bed by their mother, and did. “That’s what we were raised with,” said Allen. “I had never spoken about it, and I just let it all out,” including how she was kicked out of a school in her teens for selling drugs.

After her remarks, audience members lined up, but she didn’t know why, so she started to leave. “As I’m walking out, the first guy comes up and hugs me. They were all standing there to hug me,” she said, holding back tears.

One of the men recognized Allen from secondary school. He shared with her that he was raised with such anger that he went down the path of drugs, whereas she – who his family warned him about as a teen, since she sold drugs – did not. He said to Allen, “I see now that I, too, can change my life.”

This interaction, she said, changed her life. “I went home, and I was walking up the driveway to get the mail and this crazy lady that lived on the street and was a huge drug addict and was nasty and did not like me, she came running up my driveway swearing and yelling at me with this other guy. I was so emotional, I went running at her, I don’t know what I was going to do, and I stopped. I changed my mind. I turned around and I went home. And my life changed. Everything on our street is still happening and nothing has changed much there, except me.”

Allen started giving to the homeless. She joined the city’s Business Engagement Ambassador Project, which works to build relationships between Abbotsford residents, business owners, homeless and others to strengthen the sense of community. “What I do is I speak all over the place and raise money to help them help themselves,” she said of those who are homeless.

The project is a year-and-half old and she described it as a success. One aspect in particular that is working, she said, is that the program pays homeless people to clean up area businesses and parks.

The last speaker, Bowman, now 22 years old, has been clean for just over four years. He is a youth program support worker at Last Door, the centre at which he was set on the path of recovery.

Bowman said he had a good upbringing, went to Jewish summer camp and day schools, was into sports, has lots of friends and has a great family. Having lost his mother to cancer when he was 10, he said, “That was obviously tough, but by no means do I point my finger at that and say, ‘that’s when I started using drugs.’”

He described his life as normal, living with his dad and brother. There were no indications, he said, that he would become an addict. Addiction does not discriminate, he said, and people need to know that. His family, he said, were completely surprised to find out about his drug use and were “unversed in the topic of addiction.” Luckily, he had a cousin who works as a drug and alcohol counselor and “she saved the day” when it came to him seeking help.

At age 14, Bowman started to experiment with marijuana. He couldn’t say exactly why he started using harder drugs, but perhaps he had just gotten in with the wrong crowd. He described the process as progressive. “It went from using once in awhile to using every day, to doing whatever it takes,” he said.

“I’m not going to get too much into the things I did to get to get high every day but it definitely involved a lot of stealing from the people very close to me. It didn’t matter if you would love me, if you would hate me, if you were older, if you were younger, if I had the chance, I would try and rip you off if I was with you, and that was the reality of my life.”

From age 16 to 18, he was using opiates every day, while still going to school, while still trying to cover up that he was an addict. “I wanted help, but I didn’t,” he said. “I wanted help because I knew in my mind that I could be a better person than I’m being right now but, in the other part of my mind, I was scared and I wanted to keep getting high.”

The breaking point came when he stole a significant amount of money from his brother. From that day, when his brother reacted with love rather than anger – Dec. 22, 2015 – the efforts at recovery began, with the help of his father, brother, cousin and others. There were a few false starts, a couple of detox and treatment centres, before he landed at Last Door in mid-January 2016. He has not used drugs since.

Waiting times and the cost of treatment were among the topics discussed in the question-and-answer period. Giuseppe Ganci, director of community development for Last Door Recovery Society, was in the audience. He explained some of the different levels of care, ranging from assisted living residences, for which there are minimal guidelines, to treatment centres, which will have psychiatrists and other professionals on site. The definitions of the levels differ between regions in the province, he said, making the system hard for people to understand and, therefore, access.

“The problem is,” he said, “you always hear there are not enough beds in British Columbia. That’s actually a myth. There are so many beds. Last Door runs probably at 80% capacity every day [and has] for years. We have about 100 beds and only 35 of them are funded [by government]; the rest, there’s no funding for them, so it’s a shortage of funding for treatment, it’s not a shortage of beds.” This means that people who can afford it are able to get treatment within 24 hours, rather than join the queue of six to eight weeks or longer, he said.

After a couple more questions, Harowitz wrapped up the event. Addiction is not a choice, he stressed, citing JACS speaker Steve Whiteside. “It’s not a weakness of character, it’s not anything other than any other kind of disease that people have,” he said, challenging the audience “to keep the conversation going.”

Rehab centre fills gap

Ian Rabb with his dogs Samson and Ariel. (photo from Ian Rabb)

After falling prey to the habit himself, being rescued by his family and brought back home to Winnipeg for recovery, Ian Rabb began giving back – not just to his supporting family and the Jewish community, but to the greater community of Manitoba.

Rabb knew how the system worked from personal experience, had learned its flaws and, after recovery, set about to fix it.

“What I noticed then was a broken system in Manitoba, where there was no continuity of care,” said Rabb. “People didn’t have the ability to have extended stays in any kind of stable environment and, as I started doing my research and working in the program, I was appointed to the board of directors of the Addictions Foundation of Manitoba.”

With help from his brother, Jeff, Rabb determined that the biggest problem was the lack of a safe house where recovering addicts could take their time and realign their lives after completing their residential treatment program, which comprises a couple of weeks of rehabilitation. He opened Two Ten Recovery, a men’s house of recovery, as well as Destiny House for women. Today, there are three homes with a total of 33 beds.

“Our aim is to help people stabilize their lives and get them back to being fully self-supporting citizens, having a better prognosis or outcome when they leave,” said Rabb. “We allow them up to two years in our homes, where they have to be working and self-supporting within three months. Our success rate is at about 83%. What we’ve learned over the last number of years is the longer we can stay connected to someone post-treatment, coming out of a treatment centre, the better our success rates will be.”

It was six years ago that Rabb began hatching a plan to open a 24-hour, full-service drug and alcohol rehab centre. Once the Addictions Foundation closed their detox clinic, it became clear that a detox centre was also needed. Aurora Recovery Centre was established.

“I realized one thing very early on – that there was desperate need for a medical detox program where anyone could access medical services at any time, for any substance, and be provided with a service that would help them get off that substance, ultimately moving to the next step, addiction treatment,” he said.

Another thing that was critical in Rabb’s mind was to eliminate the wait time. “You don’t have time to wait when it comes to addiction treatment,” he said. “When someone’s ready for treatment, they need to be able to access a treatment facility. That doesn’t exist here. There’s months-long wait.

“All across Canada, because of the epidemic of addiction, even private centres are having severe wait times. So, ultimately we’re scrambling for places to send people when they need immediate help.

“The best centre in the world is just south of us, in Minnesota.

It was the first one ever started. Our model (at Aurora) is replicating the Hazelden model of addiction treatment.”

Aurora Recovery Centre is located on 28 acres of land along Lake Winnipeg, just north of Gimli. It will start as a 76-bed primary care centre, with 16 beds devoted to medical detox and emergency situations.

“We will be able to handle the ongoing problems here in Manitoba and hopefully will be busy enough to expand,” said Rabb. “We have lots of acreage there. We’re opening smaller with the plan of creating a full campus.”

To manage the centre, Rabb hired Peter Connelly, a Manitoba-born and -raised clinical director who has worked at the Minnesota Hazelden recovery centre for the past 13 years.

“I really believe that more services are needed, not only in Manitoba, but also in Canada,” said Connelly. “It’s an exciting project. It’s going to provide people who obviously need help with programs, so that’s really my reason for coming back. I certainly have a passion for recovery.”

Apart from the detox unit, which Connelly views as critical, his focus will be on the continuum of care, as he believes that after-care is of vital importance – the available services once clients have completed their in-patient treatment.

“The reality is that in-patient treatment is very difficult,” said Connelly. “It’s about people making a change, about people learning the tools of recovery and taking these tools into the outside world and using them to deal with life, on life’s terms.

“Addicts, alcoholics, need structure. They need to take responsibility and be accountable. Once they finish in-patient treatment, those are the challenges they face, so after-care is critical.”

This is an area that Aurora aims to focus on, with a number of programs that aid patients, including the option of extended-care programming, sober-housing on site, and continued follow-up with clients after they leave the centre.

“We will be developing an extensive out-patient program, so those who’ve been through the program can continue having group sessions and individual counseling after they leave,” said Connelly. “Through a number of programs that we’re developing and have developed, we’ll have clients come back yearly for an annual reunion.”

The facility is privately funded; participants and/or their family members will need to pay for their treatment. But, the cost is all-inclusive, with no added fees. “At the end of your stay, you certainly won’t be getting a bill for additional charges,” said Connelly. The cost is determined on a case-by-case basis, dependent on treatment and other factors.

At Aurora, the aim will be to have no wait time. “This is critical,” said Connelly. “We all have a tendency to procrastinate and the addict/alcoholic has a tendency to change their mind. When someone finally makes a decision they need to go, or a family member helped them with that decision, we need to get them into treatment as quickly as possible.

“As we move forward, I think people will see that the programming we offer is certainly needed. We’ll see what kind of relationships develop from there.”

Aurora began accepting patients on Oct.16. For more information, visit aurorarecovery.com.

Rebeca Kuropatwa is a Winnipeg freelance writer.