I am the very proud principal of the Hartford Area Career and Technology Center (HACTC). And I have a confession to make.
I hate heroin. And not because my Current students are using. That has happened, for sure. But that is certainly not the norm. No, it is not the Currents but rather the Formers. The ones who have graduated. And are in ‘life’ (whatever that means) by a couple, few, or handful of years. And sometimes who come to see me. To ‘check in’ and say, ‘hello.’ Late in the afternoon on any given day after school, the sun peaking just below the Dogwood on the other side of the parking lot. When the teammates are gone. And it is just me in the office. Tapping away on the computer. Responding to emails. The endless emails. Or praying. Or thinking. They are all a good possibility after five o’clock. Or really anytime after three o’clock. Or anytime, I guess. Nonetheless, the Formers swing around the parking lot in their car and see the light on. And me standing at my desk. So they come in. All smiles and hugs. Unicorns and rainbows. With eye contact. And I love it. And smile and hug them back. It is good to see them. For sure. But within seconds, the unicorns and rainbows disappear. And their smile changes. And the Dementors arrive. And hover. And the Formers stare down at their feet and shuffle their shoes side to side. In an awkward pause. And in the awkwardness and shuffling I notice their shallow cheeks. Their pale cheeks. And pale skin. And the dark bags under their eyes. Like my father’s tea bag on the saucer after finishing a cup. An effort to calm a long day at work. Or a longer evening in the barn. When I was a kid. What a strange memory and analogy. Sorry for that. But after the hug, the eye contact, and the shuffling, I catch a whiff of something on the Formers. And realize it is their breath. It smells chemically. Bleach? Antiseptic? It is so hard to describe. But not hard to notice. Or identify. And then I realize why the Dementors are there. Heroin. That is what I smell on their breath. Heroin. From being smoked rather than injected. Heroin. ‘The evil.’ The 'deceptive friend.' The Formers call it a lot of names. And when the conversation starts, the long pauses between the Formers' words and sentences start, too. So I ask them if they are okay. And they say, ‘No.’ And tears drip down their cheeks and hit their shoes, staining them briefly. So that is when I hug again. The perfect time to hug again. A weak effort to bring back the unicorns and rainbows. And marginalize the Dementors. At least for a minute. A minute for me to ask questions to see if the Formers will possibly tell me the truth: How are you? How are you feeling? Do you know who loves you? Is there anything you want to tell me about your life? Are you in control of you or is something else in control of you? I don’t care either way. And neither do your people. We just love you. We just love you. We just love you. Is there any way I can help you other than a hug? And then they do it. They tell me the truth. And talk about their ‘deceptive friend.’ And tell me that it 'promised relief and relationship but has only brought sorrow.' And 'emptiness.' And they tell me about the 'warmth' that 'deceptive friend' brings. Initially. And then the 'calm.' Initially. Until the shallowness of both disappear. Leaving as quick as they came. Replaced by craving. And itching. And paranoia. And the pursuit of more 'friendship.' Yes, heroin is the worst kind of 'deceptive friend.' According to my Formers. They know. They most certainly know. And when they leave my office and get back in their car, the chemical smell and the Dementors still lingering, I am left wondering what to do. What to do. What to do. I don't know what to do. So I write. This. In the hopes that whoever reads it continues to latch onto grace. And understanding. And courage. And strength. If they have an addict in their family. Or in their close circle of friends. Or as a Former. I hope this reminds them - and myself, too (it is quite possible I am writing this only for myself) - that the 'deceptive friend' does not like us. And it does not like grace, understanding, courage, strength, and the true friend - love. Love. The Patronus. The thing that defeats the Dementors (Thank you, Harry Potter for leading us correctly). And the thing needed to view the addicts as separate from their addiction. And yes, that is so very hard. But when done, the addict's moral compass can be seen to still be intact. Pointing North. And reminds us that they are always worthy for us to use our Patronus to try and protect them. And, ironically, often they are the Patronus. And that is what makes it worth it when they sometimes get clean. Like so many of the Formers have. Because they got their foothold for recovery in love. Appropriately from those that love them. But that doesn't mean the non-recoverers are not loved. Or not protected by our Patronuses. Or do not have a moral compass pointing North. Or have lost their humanness. Or are not strong. That couldn't be farther from the truth. It just means that addiction has no explanation. Or any rhyme or reason. It just is. It just is. So, Formers.... Stop by. And bring your 'deceptive friend.' And the Dementors. Neither really scare me any more. And while I cannot promise anything in terms of your recovery, just know you will always be welcomed and hugged. And will always have access to my Patronus (an owl).
23 Comments
Dianne Wallace
2/11/2019 04:17:09 pm
My heart aches....beautifully written and easily understood. May God bless you and your Formers and Currents.
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H
2/13/2019 05:50:02 pm
Thank you so much for reading and commenting, Dianne. In turn, bless you as well.
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2/11/2019 09:11:27 pm
Your Currents, your Formers, your peers, and your colleagues are fortunate to have you in their lives. Thank you for this piece. It is heartbreaking in its elequence.
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H
2/13/2019 05:50:59 pm
Thank you so much, Lisa, for your kind words and for reading.
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Deborah Carmiggelt
2/12/2019 10:52:30 am
I have tears in my eyes,so beautifully written, may they always find you
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H
2/13/2019 05:51:44 pm
Thank you, Deborah, for reading and for your compliment.
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Kimberly Hebard
2/12/2019 11:06:07 am
So sad and yet comforting that they have a trust to come to you. Such powerful words but a strong reality of the demons that take over our innocent ones😔
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H
2/13/2019 05:55:58 pm
Thank you for reading, Kimberly. I appreciate you reading and then taking the time to comment.
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Peg Gillard
2/13/2019 10:08:49 am
Thank you for loving them. Thank you for seeing them and the darkness with which they show up. Thank you for listening to them and hugging away their tears. They come to you because you love them and they know it. Thank you for the heartache with which you are willing to grapple. They bring you their pain because they know you can hold it for them, with them for just a few minutes. I know your heartache and your strength. It takes a lot to be compassionate and accepting of all the flaws. I know. I am a retired educator and middle school AP. Thank you for your grace, your empathy, your listening and love for all, no strings attached.
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H
2/13/2019 05:56:58 pm
Peg,
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Shannon
2/13/2019 05:12:09 pm
Thank you for being you. 💗
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H
2/13/2019 05:57:19 pm
Thank you, Shannon!
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Leslie Berger
2/14/2019 05:06:15 pm
These disenfranchised former students know that you’re in their corner, and that’s a true gift. They know you’ll welcome them unconditionally, offering a haven, a first step towards any future recovery.
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H
2/14/2019 05:50:44 pm
Thank you so much, Leslie. I am challenged, for sure, when they come. But that doesn't change love. And hope. Thank you for commenting and reading.
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Diane Daniels
2/15/2019 08:12:53 am
WOW! Beautifully written and so heartfelt! Your students, past present and otherwise are very fortunate to have you!!!
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H
2/17/2019 07:15:14 pm
Thank you so much, Diane, for your compliments and for taking the time to reply. I appreciate both. This blog is a new journey for me and filled with all sorts of apprehension so I really do appreciate your kindness.
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2/15/2019 11:19:57 am
Beautiful writing. Thank you for being so compassionate and open. It was hard to read through the tears welling up in my eyes, I had to keep blinking to read the words. This is true love and grace.
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H
2/17/2019 07:16:25 pm
Thank you, Kristen. This entry took me weeks to write as I often found myself tearing as I thought about the many Formers who it represented. But thank you for reading and commenting.
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Kate Mortimer
2/16/2019 02:57:38 pm
Thank you so much for this message. May you continue to welcome the Formers and hold on to Hope for them.
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H
2/17/2019 07:17:40 pm
Thank you so much, Kate, for reading and taking the time to comment. As a teacher, you most certainly know the struggle of loving students, current and former, of loving them but not their choices or behavior. Bless you, teacher.
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Robin Burdette
8/12/2019 01:32:30 pm
I attended the vigil last year for the first time, very powerful and eye opening! I just wish there was anti-heroin ads and skulls and crossbones on heroin like there is for vaping or smoking ... it certainly is the top demon today!!! So happy so many people have your love H!!!
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Mark Maxham
8/12/2019 01:42:09 pm
Heavy subject. Heavy reading. Well written.
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10/7/2019 09:52:06 am
Oh my goodness! an amazing article dude. Thank you However I am experiencing issue with your ruses. Don’t know why Unable to subscribe to it. Is there anyone getting identical ruses problem? Anyone who knows kindly respond. Thnkx
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