How Smart is Getting High?

by Suzanne Nielsen

The first task in teaching is to bring to consciousness what the students already believe by virtue of their personal experiences about themselves and society. —Paul Wellstone

At 37 I found recovery and it opened doors for me I never imagined I'd walk through. I started using shortly after high school. As a result I hadn't completed a four year degree. I went to college on and off for years, but blew off my scholarship to Augsburg because during those years I was more interested in getting high and working—until one day I found myself working to get high. By some miracle I always paid my bills and rent, so although my use slid into abuse it was not apparent to many others. I spent most of my time getting high alone.

Over my 20 years of abuse, I struggled through two divorces; I was in a failing third marriage with two children by the time I was 35. My drinking and chemical use hit an all time low when my mother was diagnosed with Leukemia shortly after my second child was born.

It was New Year's Eve of 1991 that I had my last drink. I remember talking with my mother on the phone and hearing her off in the distance saying to me, "Are you alright? Honey, are you okay?" I passed out and woke up the next morning with the shakes, asleep in a heap on my basement floor with my hand still clenching the phone. Once I made my way upstairs, I realized it was still dark out and everyone was asleep. I went into my sons' bedroom and saw a book on their nightstand. I remembered putting them to bed before my heavy drinking kicked in, but did I read them a story?

I couldn't stop shaking, and I knew my behavior from the night before was once again shameful. Making amends be comes a daily routine when an addict is in the throes. I made amends, or at least apologies, more often than I frequented the bathroom. I was sorry I worried my mother the night before. I cringed recalling her voice. I was sorry I didn't love my husband, and I was sorry I didn't remember reading a book to my kids before somehow putting them to bed. I was sorry I was so pitiful.

That morning I made a decision to quit drinking. I'd thought about quitting before, but something was different that morning. Blacking out was getting old, and I worried my mind was draining away. I've not drunk alcohol since that day, but I continued abusing drugs. My mother died six months later. My youngest son was seven months old. My oldest son was five. Fiorinal fogged my memory of my mother's funeral. That following October 28th I put myself in treatment. It would have been my mother's 67th birthday. While in treatment I talked about wanting to go back to school to earn my BA, something I'd held out hope for during all my years of abuse.

As I was getting ready to graduate from treatment my counselor met with me to go over my aftercare plan. "What did you erase from your plan?" she said as she tried reading what was barely visible. Nothing slid by her, I swear; she knew way more than I wanted to give her credit for. "I erased getting a divorce and returning to school," I said, holding my ground. "And why is that?" she asked. I hemmed and hawed, then said, "I'm afraid of failure; I'm afraid I can't stand on my own two feet alone." I was six weeks into recovery and doing my best on shaky sea legs. What I hadn't shared with my counselor was that all my attempts at college were done high. I feared school clean and sober.

Doing school straight seemed too unfamiliar, too risky, like learning a foreign language. And doing school while going through yet another divorce and supporting two children seemed overwhelming. However, after looking my counselor in the eye, under duress I penciled into my aftercare plan to return to school. Before I left treatment I had inked it in, and five months later I was enrolled as a full time student. In two years I finished my bachelor's degree in writing. My divorce was final. My boys and I were living with my father. My father was thrilled that I had gone back to school. Then he died unexpectedly. I was devastated, but I had two years of sober time, and my degree, something that no one could take away. I was a first generation college graduate. Two years later I completed a master's in writing. Four years ago I finished my doctorate in Education. I couldn't have done any of this without recovery.

That's what I say to my son who recently got his GED after briefly attending P.E.A.S.E. Academy, a sober high school that supports kids in recovery by having them commit to staying sober while finishing their education. My son's use started earlier than mine, and by the time he should have been a high school senior he only had enough credits to qualify as a sophomore. P.E.A.S.E Academy is located in Minneapolis, and is among several sober high schools that teach that recovery comes first. It's not that P.E.A.S.E. Academy wasn't a successful program for my son; he just had too many makeup credits to complete as a result of his abuse during his teens, so he opted to drop out and get his GED.

We are fortunate to live in a state that not only recognizes the importance of recovery, but also supports it by having over a dozen sober high schools within the metropolitan area. We are also fortunate to have college programs where students in recovery are given an opportunity to live in chemical free housing and receive ongoing support for their sobriety at no additional cost.

Augsburg's StepUP program has served as a catalyst for several other college and university programs that address the needs and concerns of students living with chemical health issues. Augsburg's StepUP program started in 1997, and since its inception it has served 485 students to date. The mean abstinence rate over the last ten years is 86%, and the mean GPA for the decade is 2.89.

It's funny how life works. Although I never attended Augsburg as a student, I did earn a degree at a state university because I found sobriety. I started teaching at Augsburg as adjunct faculty in the fall of 2009, and I've had the honor of working with a number of students in the StepUP program. This past spring I attended StepUP's annual gala where those students were among others recognized for their continued success in recovery, hence continued success with academia. It's rewarding to see how far education has come in embracing recovery. When I was in high school, it was taboo to talk about a problem with alcohol and drugs. When I had my first bout with college, just about everyone I knew was getting high between classes. There was no support for students getting help with drug and alcohol abuse. If you failed, you packed your pipes and smoked them elsewhere. No one signed contracts with schools related to a sober commitment. No one talked about how drugs and alcohol stifled one's ability to get an education.

The contract is signed and discussed weekly at meetings. Students who violate the contract three times are asked to leave the StepUP Program.

Interestingly, I found all the StepUP students in my classes at Augsburg open to discuss their situation, and grateful to have the opportunity to participate in a program geared for their success. Although the University of Minnesota has a program called Students Off Booze Enjoying Recovery (SOBER), and a host of other colleges and universities support students in recovery, I focused on Augsburg because to me it all comes full circle. While attending my brother's graduation from Augsburg in 1970, I knew I wanted a connection to the college, perhaps as a student. Although I didn't attend Augsburg as a student, I ended up teaching there and ironically working with students in the StepUP program, assisting them with their writing and with finding their voice.

My son has been sober almost a year now. He's talking about wanting to enroll in college. I tell him about the support programs available within the metro area at over a dozen colleges and universities and suggest he take advantage of their offerings. Getting high can be done alone. Living a sober lifestyle is near to impossible to do alone, and today there's no reason to do so with all the sources supporting students in recovery. How smart is that! To find support for returning to school and maintaining sobriety, contact http://www.recoveryschools.org/schools.html and get connected.

Today my son asks me, "Do your students know you're in recovery?" I tell him I don't make a point of mentioning it unless they ask. Some of my Augsburg students do ask, especially those in the StepUP program. Sharing my recovery is educating them that we wouldn't be where we are today without putting recovery first. After all, how smart is getting high?


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