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I am a non-traditional student, an English major, and a Gaines Fellow. I expect to graduate in December, 2002, and hope to attend law school. This is an excerpt from my Gaines Seminar in the Humanities Senior Thesis (READ THESIS). Some of you who read my thesis, which portrays some part of my life's story and a great deal of my daughter Mears' life story, may question why a father would compose a document of this nature. After careful consideration, Mears and I determined two points. One: this is our story. And, two: we believe that by telling our story we might provide some hope, guidance, and light to kids and their families who travel the same path. |
INTRODUCTION Many children are walking on thin ice, drowning, sinking, and becoming quiet. Drugs and alcohol can take in our most precious and valuable resource; a subtle foe stalks our children. Children and young adults are not renewable resources. Each child, each life is special and meaningful, yet sometimes children vanish in the icy, dark water. Thin ice easily fools children, leading some to death. Drug and alcohol usage fools children, leading many to early graves. Some people may say that talk of early death and the grave borders on being scare tactics; they are correct. People need to be scared - they need to know that drugs and alcohol kill our children. Drug addiction and alcoholism are chronic diseases that affect not only the individual sufferer but also the lives of all those they touch. I have a personal involvement with this reality. In the beginning of my freshman year at the University of Kentucky, my daughter Mears, then fifteen years old, broke her three-year partial silence with me: "I can't stop drinking when I start drinking. I need help." Finding the help that Mears requested became my primary focus. We did not seek out this reality; the reality found us and it constantly searches for sufferers. Mears' behavior for the previous two years did not appear normal or healthy. She had changed friends, become silent, distant, non-cooperative, unloving, and apathetic about school and life in general, and acted as if she hated me. Mears had been harmed by my behavior. As an irresponsible parent, I had given her many reasons not to trust me. Trust is an essential element in relationships. Relationships and lives suffer when the failure of trust is present. Her mother and I had been divorced for almost ten years. At the time when Mears broke her silence, I had been sober for six and a half years. My network of friends consisted of individuals who had similar life experiences to mine. Ann - a licensed clinical social worker, my counselor, and friend - knew where we could find help for Mears: Kids Helping Kids. |
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The narratives of Finn and Mears Green, when juxtaposed with that of Jessica Couch, give voices to the statistics and realities of alcohol addiction. Readers can find the academic research in the full, online version of Finn's Gaines Thesis, which I helped advise. In this condensation, we have distilled from the formal research one voice of despair as it evolved into hope. My wife and I went with Finn to Kids Helping Kids one Friday evening and heard other voices, not just those of the young, but - as you read here - the voices of the families trying to regain contact through the chill vapor of addiction. Having worked for ten years with alcoholics seeking recovery, I know the power of the disease and the fragility of recovery. There are other models for recovery, some without the spiritual basis of Alcoholics Anonymous, some existing on Jessica's individual "very small ledge" without the community you see in Finn's narrative of Mears. Some researchers, perhaps correctly, question the disease concept of addiction; one alcoholic I know, however, drank all the way through her chemotherapy, later saying that alcoholism ran deeper in her than did cancer. Finn's research and narrative end on a note of hope, but this hope does not imply a promise. I can only wish all of them well, one day at a time. |
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