The National Council on Alcoholism and Drug Dependence fights the stigma and the disease of alcoholism and other drug addictions.

Shock Parole Aftercare Program

Alcoholism Council of New York, Inc.
New York, NY

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Inner city drug dealers. A job description that frightens and repels Americans probably more than any other and one that has produced a nation that seems to build prisons faster than it builds schools.

But if everyone who believes that incarceration alone will eliminate the drug problem had an opportunity to observe one of the dozens of parolee groups who meet weekly at the Alcoholism Council of New York (ACNY), attitudes might change. These non-violent offenders, mostly male, are participating in an aftercare program that helps give them the support and skills to channel their undeniable energy and street smarts into legitimate activities. For many, it's the first time society ever has given them a break.

One Friday morning in early May, a new platoon of SHOCK troops arrives at a dreary building in lower Manhattan. Less than 24 hours before they were released from an upstate New York prison similar to a boot camp. From 5:30 a.m. to lights out at 9 p.m. every moment of their day for the past six months has been filled with physical exercise, work, education and compulsory drug treatment. This has been the most structured period in their lives and like a batch of new military recruits who have completed basic training, they exhibit an easy comraderie and eagerly tell one another how they have spent their first night of freedom. For the next six months, they will remain under close parole supervision, with unannounced home visits, random drug tests and a curfew. Just as important, they will be given subsidized employment for 90 days and participate in an aftercare program conducted by ACNY.

A social worker, an addictions counselor and four interns from New York University conduct the intake process for the aftercare program. During individual interviews, each of the men, most of whom are in their 20s (only men 35 and younger are eligible for SHOCK incarceration), are asked to answer a lengthy series of question about their home lives and criminal histories. "We want our counselors to try to identify the one area that has given our clients the most trouble," explains Stacia Murphy, former ACNY executive director. "We can't solve everything for them, but we can try to focus on their biggest problem."

The initial interview also includes a thorough assessment of their use of alcohol and other drugs. "Most of them have experienced problems as a result of their drinking or drug use and they need to be treated for their chemical addiction," observes Murphy. "But a few of them who may never have used illegal drugs are addicted to money, power, privilege and prestige. That's the hardest thing they have to overcome."

Terry Duprat, a middle-aged Irish social worker with the charm of a leprechaun, seems pleased to learn that a 19-year-old has moved to a relative's home in a different neighborhood. But when she asks him about the bruise on his neck, the question elicits giggles. "I went to see my girlfriend last night," he answers sheepishly. Duprat warns him about returning to the patterns of behavior that may have led to his arrest but he insists he has no other way to see his two children.

When asked about his level of education, one well-mannered man who was raised by his mother and grandmother says he completed only 9th grade but scored 270 on his GED while in prison. David Vega, the interviewing counselor, begins to build a relationship by congratulating him and saying "You only needed 225." The man scorns the use of hard drugs but sheepishly admits to smoking marijuana and drinking a "40" (oz. of malt liquor) nearly every day before going to prison. Vega, not much older than his client and in recovery himself, knows the routine well. "I've been on both sides," he remarks "and I don't ever want to be on the wrong side again."

Duprat tells the entire platoon to report that evening to ACNY where they will be scheduled for individual and group therapy sessions. The staff of seven counselors, two social workers and several interns see as many as 350 clients each week. "We're very pleased to have four male counselors with us for the first time," says Murphy. "These guys need to have more men in their lives. Most of them have grown up around women and don't have any positive male role models."

On Thursday evenings, one group meets with Bryon Walker, a former college athlete, who joined the ACNY staff eight months ago. "I tell these guys it's easy to be `the man' on their neighborhood block, but that they need to get out of the neighborhood and see the rest of the world," explains Walker. "I grew up in the inner city just like they did but when my mother forced me to go to college in Arizona, I stepped off the plane and saw the sun, just about to set. It was the brightest orange I'd ever seen and as much as I wanted to go back I realized that other possibilities existed for the first time."

Walker distributes a photocopied chapter from Boys to Men: Maps for the Journey by Gregalan Williams, a book that chronicles the self discovery of an African American man who had been addicted to alcohol and cocaine. He begins the meeting, which he calls his "Hope" group, by asking one of the dozen men--an ethnically diverse mix--seated in a circle to start reading aloud.

Walker interrupts after the group has heard "Today I understand a little better that a woman too must make her own journey," and asks another man what he thinks. One by one, they offer their opinions about gender roles and a lively discussion ensues. Throughout the 90-minute meeting Walker makes sure that everyone participates. Even if the men don't emerge as pro-feminist, their perspectives have been broadened by both the author and the interchange among themselves and Walker.

On Wednesdays, a relapse prevention group meets with Terry Duprat. Most of these men have admitted drug use to their individual counselors or to their parole officers prior to failing a drug test. Duprat opens the meeting by asking who has used drugs during the past week. Several raise their hands and after they explain why, she observes how easy it has been for them to find a situation they can use as an excuse to get high. "If you can't stop using for six months--especially if you know it may cost you your freedom--then something's wrong," she says, forcing them to acknowledge the responsibility they have for their future and how addiction might interfere with it.

The message already has gotten through to one young man. "I thought about what you said about finding an excuse just before I took a hit on a blunt," he confesses. "When I was locked up I used to get these euphorias about weed--I could taste it, I dreamed it, I thought about doing it all the time. Then when I finally did it, I stopped having the euphorias. I knew I could do it, I knew I could get it, but now I couldn't enjoy it. You spoiled it for me."

Another smaller group, also led by Duprat, is called "Making Better Choices." It includes a young African American man who is about to finish his SHOCK parole. The knowledge that Duprat has prepared a graduation certificate thrills him. "This is the only thing I've ever completed in my whole life." Still, he's not in any hurry to leave a gathering where he feels very comfortable and listens attentively as others describe what they have been doing in the week since they last met.

A Columbian man, who has found a job parking cars, excitedly tells the group how he plans to make some extra money this summer. "I have a friend in Columbia who can bring me many pairs of sandals which are very cheap there. I can sell them here at American prices. I don't know why, but I love to sell things on the street." The group laughs because they recognize that selling a different product sent most of them to prison.

It's exactly this kind of entrepreneurial spirit that Murphy wants the program to encourage. She's currently developing a curriculum that will assist former drug dealers in starting their own small businesses. "We need to help them understand they already have a lot of experience in sales, distribution and negotiation. Once they realize how their involvement with alcohol and other drugs has gotten them into trouble, we have an opportunity to make a real change in their lives."

(6/98)

National Council on Alcoholism and Drug Dependence, Inc.

244 East 58th Street, 4th Floor, New York, NY 10022 phone: 212/269-7797   fax: 212/269-7510 email: national@ncadd.org   http://www.ncadd.org HOPE LINE: 800/NCA-CALL (24-hour Affiliate referral)