The Old Apartment

THE OLD APARTMENT

 by Will Burchard

CHAPTER ONE

          Three stories lie dormant before me, the paint chipping away like ash. Lead collects in the wind, bringing with it cigarettes and crumpled, unlucky scratch tickets. Three floors still standing, decaying and withering but still more alive than you are. If I had the strength I would bury this old apartment building with you, and I would kneel over your grave every day praying that these memories wouldn’t shoot out from the clay and the dirt. Still, it stands before me, a monolith and a tomb. “Are you ready to go inside?”, my sister Jean asks. I can’t see her eyes through her dark tinted sunglasses but I can hear the tears in her voice. She is one year younger than I am, 17 at the time of our fathers passing. We both had grown apart from our dad in his final two years, as school and social life began to dominate our time and empty bottles began collecting at his doorstep. I probably had not been to his house in over a year. We both grew up here, spending weekends in Providence while living with our mom in the suburbs further south. As we approach the door it feels far from a home. I get an eerie sense of dread, a heavy feeling of the undertow of regret pulling me into the depths of remorse.  

Instinctively I reach for the doorbell. Then I realize that no one is home. I start to go inside when I feel a rough, calloused hand on my shoulder, I turn around quickly and stare into the brown eyes of an aging drunk, Peter, one of my dads last tenants. His hand is clasped around a bottle of Guinness and he is teetering from right to left. I brush off his hand and he introduces himself, telling me what a great man my father was. His words have little impact and I barely pay attention to his ramblings. Since my father passed away barely a week ago, people have been coming up to me and telling me what a fantastic man he was and how sorry they were for my loss. They all claimed to know him so well.  Some of these people I grew up with and trusted. Many of them, however, seemed to only show up around the time of his passing. All of them wanted something. This is the sad, terrible thing about death. Once your soul has escaped these mortal boundaries, nothing that once belonged to you is sacred. Everyone from close friends and distant relatives felt they deserved something from my father, and after seven days of this I was beginning to realize that we didn’t owe these people a Goddamn thing. Yet I smiled and nodded and sent Peter stumbling back into his apartment. Finally, we entered. A winding auburn staircase greeted us, polished wood gleaming up twenty feet. I ascended, holding on to the railing like I had done so many times before in my youth. The wood felt cold, weathered, a far cry from a father's warm embrace. We finally made it to his apartment. I turned the key and stepped inside. Growing up, the first thing I would hear when I entered this old house was the sound of classical music. The soft hum or loud booms of opera and orchestras never stopped playing. Growing up with you I had just as much exposure to Beethoven and Chopin as I did the latest popular music on the radio. 

Now, there was only silence. It was a haunting, still sense of quiet, the sound of two decades of memories sinking into the ground. I notice your encyclopedia collection first, kept inside an antique wooden bookshelf with glass frames. I remember sitting on your lap and getting lessons in history, science, and astronomy from these dusty leather bound books. Although the knowledge in them is now likely old and outdated, they were my very first teachers. I never took the books with me, and to this day I wonder what has become of them. In the dining room clutter is all around, the piles of junk beginning to consume it. I sift through these piles of papers to find old tax documents, bills, and countless papers and drawing my sister and I brought home from school. Chicken scratch handwriting and smudges of crayon accompany note of “I love you Dad.” Some of these must have been from almost ten years ago. He never threw away anything we made at school.  

Across the room were piles of vinyl records and several antique record players. The black discs were beginning to collect dust. I was told many of them could be worth a good deal of money, but I couldn’t think about that right now. I couldn’t even read half of the titles, Italian and German composers from hundreds of years ago. I wish I had paid more attention to the music that you cherished so much. It was once your livelihood, although you stopped playing professionally long before I was born. Still, the sounds of your viola playing were constant growing up here. As the years went by and I grew older, I heard you play less and less, the sound of beautiful stringed music replaced by the hollow clank of empty liquor bottles.  I found your viola across the hallway in the bedroom. I opened the case and placed my hand on it, wiping away a layer of dust. I put the instrument to my chin and the bow to the strings and tried to make a sound, but all that I produced was a screeching echo. I wasn’t half the musician you were, although you tried so hard to pass along your knowledge. For a while, you succeeded, buying me a classical flute and driving me to lessons for years. I remember the proud look on your face when I walked away from a classical flute competition with the first place medal, the way you embraced me and kissed me on the cheek and told me that I was a natural, just like you. After five years of lessons I switched from flute to guitar, finding more inspiration in the sounds of Pink Floyd and Nirvana than Bach. I could see your disappointment at the time, and now I am left wondering, if I was such a natural, why didn’t I just play both at once? 

I walk up creaky, dusty stairs and reach the attic where my old room was located. Model planes and trains adorn the shelves, countless projects I built with my dad. He had this fascination with trains, and spent plenty of time detailing and building model train sets. He eventually passed on the hobby to me, and we began building them together. Down the hallway is the room where you kept your train set, a painstakingly detailed replica of a city with tracks that run the length of the entire room. Miniature cars and buildings add more layers of detail. I haven’t been in this room in years, and I had forgotten how impressive it all looked. I haven’t built models in a long time, but I can still remember carefully piecing together the different sets with my him, all the while the sounds of classical music reverberated through the house. I don’t know what became of the model set in that room. I refuse to linger on it, bothered by the notion that something he had invested so much time had been dismantled and thrown away. I wish I had done more to preserve it for his memory, instead it is just another unanswerable regret swimming in the currents of my subconscious. I can’t look at the models any longer and I leave the attic behind me, never to set foot in the room I grew up in again. 


Will Burchard is a native of the Providence, Rhode Island Area. He now lives on Cape Cod, Massachusetts. This is his first contribution to the Whydah Gally, and Chapters II and III will be published over the next week or so.

Falmouth: The Stronghold, Pt I

How did it come to be that this medium-sized, spread out, resort town of 25,000 year round residents has turned into a stronghold of recovering addicts in the fight against the suburban opiate crisis?

I haven't a fucking clue, but I'd be happy enough to describe it, and maybe even shed some light on this interesting demographic.

You see, unlike your average, once-addicted millenial that you'd usually find in one of the massive 12 Step meetings here on any given night, I grew up here. And, when I finally crawled out of the burning wreckage that was my part in this new "opioid epidemic", the fact that I was in the minority among other native Falmouthites (I have no fucking idea if we're actually called Falmouthites, but it sounds good) surprised the hell out of me. I guess that's because growing up here, I always saw this place as sleepy and uptight. So imagine my shock, in the dead of January, walking into a church that I'd barely ever even noticed before, and stumbling upon well over a hundred loud, happy, energized, youthful, somewhat reckless, recovering drug addicts. 

Part of my job at a local recovery resource center is documenting local resources for treatment and recovery. According to my latest count (and this can change weekly), there are 43 sober houses operating in Falmouth, and the bordering towns of Bourne and Mashpee. There are also two halfway houses, two thirty day rehabs, and a detox. Not to mention a plethora of outpatient and mental health services. I've estimated that there are currently ~1,700 addicts and alcoholics in recovery among Falmouth's year round population, or around 6%. 

So, how'd we all get here? Perhaps that's a question for another day.

Errand Runner Part I

            I got out of class just after noon. I had another class in three hours, and I knew that I probably wouldn’t make it back in time. That was alright though, this came first. It had to. I was starting to feel sick already, and I had stopped lying to myself about priorities months ago. I remember that it was cold out. It wasn’t winter yet, but was getting close. Even in November the temperature could get down into the 30’s in Boston. I put my thick black beanie on, folded up the bottom, and made my way across the street into the Community College “T” stop. I was really starting to look the part now, with my Carhartt jacket, baggy jeans, scraggly beard, and work boots. Nobody looking at me could have guessed that my backpack was full of books and pens and notebooks.

       

            After about ten agonizing minutes a train to Forest Hills finally arrived and I got on. A wave of boiling, recycled air hit me when I walked through the train door, and it momentarily offset the discomfort of my cold, but sweaty skin. My body’s broken internal thermometer adjusted quickly though after I took a seat and I could feel the sweat forming under my hat and my nose begin to run again.

             If the ride went smoothly, it’d be about a half hour from Community College to Forest hills... just about the entire length of the Orange Line. It seemed like it took forever to make it to Chinatown, but that was what I looked at as the halfway point, and I was happy to have made it that far. For a moment I had cell phone service and my phone buzzed in my hand. It was Dennis. All the message said was “ETA?” I wrote back that I’d be there in fifteen minutes, but I had already lost service again by the time I’d sent it. The train kept going for a about twenty more minutes, first through the colleges and nice neighborhoods, then through the gentrified neighborhoods, and then the bad ones. By the time we got to the end of the line I had been the only white person on the train for the last three stops, and was getting some concerned looks. The locals must have rightfully assumed that I was either some kind of social worker, or that I was there to buy, sell, or get laid.

            Dennis was waiting for me at the top of the escalator.

            “You didn't fuckin' answer my text! I thought you bailed! I was about to take off!” he yelled at me a few steps down.

            “Fuck off. You've lived here your entire life but still don't get that there's no service on the train?” I said loudly back up at him.

            “Whatever, what're you getting?” he asked me.

            “Five bags.” I said “Four for me and one for you,” and handed him a hundred dollars.

            Dennis was just a middle man, not a dealer himself. I didn't know any reliable dealers in The City yet, so I went through him to get dope. If someone is “middle-manning” for you, it's implied that they expect some kind of payment--either drugs or money. Today it was drugs, and Dennis didn't complain.

            “Okay,” he said “Alex is sending a guy to meet me about a quarter mile down Hyde Park Ave. Sorry bro, but you know the drill. Just sit tight and I'll be right back.

            Dennis took off walking quickly down the street, and I nervously took a seat outside of the station and lit a cigarette. I wasn't nervous so much about where I was or the neighborhood, but more about whether or not I'd ever see Dennis again. This was only the third or fourth time I'd ever gotten dope through him, and it wouldn't have surprised me if he had a dozen of us using him as middleman and planned on robbing us one by one. Dennis was probably about my age, 23 or 24 with dirty blonde hair, had facial features consistent with fetal alcohol syndrome, and was about six feet tall. He said he was originally from Norwood, but that was just about all I knew about his history. He was a tough kid to get a read off of in terms of his personality, but I realized pretty quickly that had it not been for our mutually beneficial business arrangement, I never would have said a word to this kid in a million years.

            I took in a long drag of my Camel Light--or "Blues" as they were now called--and tasted the uniquely disgusting taste of burning filter. I coughed, threw it in a puddle, and immediately lit a new one. I had just begun to really get anxious that he wasn't coming back when I saw him come bopping around the corner. When he got a little closer he made eye contact, gave me a smirk and a thumbs up, and relief filled my soul.

            He walked up and said “Bro, this shit's gotta be fire. All rock and pretty fuckin' dark.”

            “Beautiful,” I said. “Where you wanna go?”

            “This way, there's a park just up the street.” He said, starting to walk and motioning with his head for me to follow him.

            “Ok.”

            We walked to the park up the road without saying a word. When we got there, both of us were sort of drawn to these two benches next to each other, adjacent to a patch of trees and bushes which provided us some cover to do what we had come there to do. We moved towards the benches almost automatically. Almost instinctively. We sat down and I put my backpack in between us. I took out a needle for me, a needle for Dennis, and a spoon.

            Dennis gave me my four bags. I put two in my pocket and and emptied two into the spoon. I drew water into the syringe from my water bottle and sprayed it onto the heroin. I watched it get dark and quickly dissolve into the water. The resulting hue of the liquid was beautiful. Dennis was right, this was good stuff. I took some cotton from one of my cigarette filters and drew the solution into my needle.

            I have bad veins already, and the cold that day didn't help. The dopesickness and resulting low blood pressure weren't helping me either. After about five minutes of poking myself to no avail, Dennis started pressuring me to go faster. He was already high, but unfortunately not high enough to keep him quiet. I swear, every late-model, American-made car that went by he said was a cop. I finally was able to hit in my hand. I watched the blood go in, and I pushed it all back out. It only took about three seconds to hit me, and I immediately knew that I had done too much. I smiled in ecstasy, completely care free as the world around me slipped into darkness.

            When I woke up it was dark out and I didn't see Dennis anywhere. It took me a minute to remember exactly what I had just put myself through, and when I did I realized why was now feeling so weak and cold and why my mind was so foggy. I looked at my phone, it was just after 6:00, and I'd been out for a few hours. I drew what seemed to me like a deep breath into my sore lungs and called out softly for Dennis. Nothing. I lit a igarette and tried to stay awake. It took me another five minutes or so of recuperating to realize that my bag was gone. Did that fucker really steal my bag while I was overdosed? Almost as soon as I'd tossed away my finished cigarette butt and had gotten to my feet, ready to leave, I heard a playful voice shout “he lives!” from behind me. Sure enough, there was Dennis walking up the well-lit sidewalk with my backpack on.

            “What the fuck, man. Where were you?” I snapped, sitting back on the bench.

            “You went out.” Dennis said, his voice sounding completely declaritive and unalarmed.

            “No shit,” I replied angrily “and you thought you'd just leave me here?”

            “Well, after about an hour you were still breathing... no, snoring, so yeah, I took the opportunity to grab us dinner.” Dennis put my bag down on the bench next to me and pulled out a bag of McDonald's and two bottles of Coca-Cola. “Tell me you're not happy to see this right now,” he said proudly.

            “I guess I can't really be mad.” I said, “What do I owe you?”

            “Nothing. I grabbed $20 from under your wallet.” he  said, his mouth already full of Dollar Menu burger.

            We sat eating in silence for a while. I felt almost back to normal by the time we'd finished. Dennis handed me my last bag of heroin from his pocket, explaining to me that he'd only done a little and that he was just holding onto it for safe keeping. I thanked him and put it in a secret compartment in my wallet.

            “I gotta get home. It's a long trip home for me, and my roommates are worried about me,” I lied.

            “Okay” he said, “same time tomorrow?”

            “Yea. Sounds good.” I said, and started towards the subway entrance.

Justin Bieber, Colorado Springs, and not knowing what to say

Like many others I have been trying to make sense of a seemingly endless stream of violence in the news the past few weeks. Though there have been dozens of topics to write and reflect on, I didn’t feel like I had anything coherent to say. I struggled to keep up with and make sense of not only the “facts”, but the stream of reactions and commentary that goes with them. By the time the recent shooting at the Planned Parenthood in Colorado Springs happened, and the social and news media streams turned into what felt like solid vitriol and caps lock, I just shut down and curled up in bed. I needed time to process it all.

A few days before this event in Colorado I had an idea for a blog post. I had been listening to the radio and “What do you mean?” by Justin Bieber had come on. This brought back a conversation I had with a friend a few months earlier when the song hit the radio. We have an ongoing discussion on how popular songs do or don’t reinforce rape culture and issues of sexual consent for women. We had difficulty making a final determination on this song.

"a culture that is uncomfortable with ambivalence and the simultaneous existence of contradictory ideas and feelings. We want things black or white."

Paris, Beirut, and Humanity at the Quick Lube

This afternoon I brought my car to a Quick Lube to get inspected and get an oil change. In the waiting room I scrolled through my Facebook newsfeed, consuming statuses, headlines, images, and articles about recent violent attacks suspected to be carried out by ISIS in Beirut, Lebanon, and Paris, France. I often struggle in the shadow of emotionally charged news stories about violence, hate crimes, acts of terror, high profile court cases with potentially devastating effects, and protests, deciding whether or not to post on social media.

"Should I repost this article? Should I make a Facebook status or change my profile photo to show solidarity? "

I often opt to stay quiet. To me, in my life, I don’t feel a Facebook status determines my level of compassion, commitment, or solidarity to a cause. I typically (though not always) feel this type of action is not “productive” or meaningful coming from me. Often I avoid posting because I feel the only real objective it would achieve is to make me appear committed. There are days I hang my head in shame, alone in my room, knowing that I can and should do more in my daily life to work towards a more just world. Posting, it seems, would only serve to take the pressure off myself to live, in the real world, in service to justice for as many people as possible.

But, still, sitting in the Quick Lube today, I wanted to do something. My head was buzzing, making links to terror on US soil to these foreign attacks, making links to acts of terror in my own community, and what we even identify as an act of terror. As I was wrestling with these ideas I began reading an article about the bombing in Beirut that had occurred the day before the Paris attacks. The article not only chronicled the events, but addressed discrepancies between how media covered that event and the events in Paris the following day. One woman wondered, “Dear Facebook: Nice French flag overlay. But how do I change my profile picture to show solidarity with the people of Beirut?”

A Comparative Study of the Massachusetts Criminal Justice System's Effectiveness in Rehabilitating Offenders Convicted of a Crime Related to Substance Abuse by Sam Tarplin

Massachusetts Drug Laws

      Compared to the rest of the United States, the laws in Massachusetts pertaining to drug possession offenses are considered to be somewhat lenient. However, in comparison to many European countries, Massachusetts drug laws would be considered quite harsh. In the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. offenders are rarely jailed for simply possessing a drug when convicted, unless it can be proven that the narcotics in question were intended for distribution or trafficking. For first time offenders, punishments may include loss of driver's license, monetary fines, probation with drug testing and/or enrollment in a drug court or drug-awareness class (St Louis 1-4). Jail sentences are an option for any drug possession conviction, but are not usually implemented unless aggravating circumstances are present.

      Sentencing for possession and distribution of narcotics also varies widely depending upon the classification of the drug. Massachusetts has established five classes of narcotics (St Louis 6):

• Class A drugs are substances with very high addiction and harm potential. Sentences for possessing and/or distributing these drugs are the most severe. Examples include the following: heroin, morphine, and “date rape” drugs, such as GHB, and Ketamine.
• Class B drugs are also highly addictive, but are considered less lethal and/or have a legitimate medical purpose. Sentencing pertaining to these substances are severe, but usually less so than Class A substances. Some examples include the following: cocaine, prescription opiates such as Oxycontin and Percocet, LSD, ecstasy and
  methamphetamine.
• Class C drugs are considered to have somewhat less addiction and harm potential than Class B or Class A drugs. Examples of Class C drugs are benzodiazapines (Klonopin, Xanax, and Librium) and psilocybin mushrooms.
• Class D substances are considered to have a low potential for addiction and a low potential for harm, the most common of which is marijuana. Penalties relating to Class D substances are far less severe than Class A,B and C substances.
• Class E substance charges are typically for lighter doses of prescription narcotics containing codeine (Tylenol #3), morphine, or opium (St Louis 6).

       It should be noted that although technically a crime, public intoxication is rarely prosecuted. Also, addiction can be viewed as a mitigating factor during sentencing in Massachusetts, in that cases in which addiction or substance abuse are ruled to be a contributing factor are often sentenced to drug courts and other out-of-prison programs which aim to rehabilitate the offender.

Federal Mandatory Minimum Sentencing Laws

       Every Federal judge in the United States, including those in Massachusetts, are bound by mandatory minimum sentencing laws set by the U.S. Congress. These laws automatically trigger much harsher sentences if a crime meets certain standards (ie. a certain amount of a certain drug), or if a specific type of violence occurs during the commission of a crime (ie. terrorism or harm to a law enforcement officer) (FAMM 1-10). Someone charged will only be prosecuted in a Federal court, and will be effected by Federal mandatory minimum sentencing laws if their alleged criminal activity has been 1) committed in more than one U.S. State or territory or, 2) was investigated and brought to

prosecution by a Federal agency such as the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI), the Drug Enforcement Agency (DEA), the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms (ATF) or U.S. Federal Marshals (OAS 1-4). Because this report is focusing on the Massachusetts criminal justice system, these Federal laws will not be looked at further in this report; however, they should be noted as they can affect the outcome of prosecutions of some crimes committed in Massachusetts.

Massachusetts' “Melissa's Law” and Other “Three Strikes” Laws

       Massachusetts recently passed its own form of a mandatory minimum law by joining several other states in implementing a three strikes law in 2012. This is a law which mandates that an offender who “has been convicted three or more times of an enumerated violent offense shall be considered a habitual offender and shall be punished by incarceration at a state prison for the maximum term provided by law. No sentence thus imposed shall be reduced or suspended, nor shall such person be eligible for probation, parole, work release or furlough (Wall, 2).”

      This same law, known as “Melissa's Law,” actually lessened the penalties for those convicted of nonviolent drug offenses in many ways. In fact, several components of Melissa's Law involve protecting, helping and/or lessening punishments for nonviolent drug offenders, including:

• reducing the mandatory minimum sentences for some nonviolent drug offenses,
• increasing the drug weight requirements necessary to be eligible for certain minimum sentences,
• allowing prisoners serving a mandatory sentence to be eligible for authorized vocational and educational programs,
• reducing the size of a school zone area, which triggers a mandatory minimum sentence for certain drug offenses from 1,000 feet to 300 feet,
  • also excluding violations in such areas between the hours of midnight and 5:00 am,
• allowing prisoners to receive increased “good time,” or days of credit for educational or vocational programming, and
• allowing for “Good Samaritan” provisions which
  • allow doctors to prescribe an opioid antagonist (Narcan) to opioid drug abusers and their family members, and
  • allow a person in good faith to seek assistance for someone experiencing an overdose without being prosecuted (Wall, 2).

      Compared to the mandatory minimum and three strikes laws of most other states, most notably California, Massachusetts' laws are quite lenient. Today, twenty-four states in all have some form of a three strikes law. The exact application of the three strikes laws varies considerably from state to state, but the laws call for life sentences without possibility of release for at least 25 years on a violator's third strike. Most states require one or more of the three felony convictions to be for violent crimes in order for the mandatory sentence to be pronounced. Crimes that fall under the category of “violent” include the following: murder, kidnapping, sexual abuse, rape, aggravated robbery, and aggravated assault. Some states include additional, lesser offenses that one would not normally see as violent.

      For example, California's three strikes law, known as Proposition 36, is arguably the most well known as well as the most controversial of such laws in the United States. Proposition 36 has lead to life imprisonment for many nonviolent drug offenders as it nullifies eligibility for probation, parole and treatment for many drug-related crimes. It must also be noted that the social costs of California's Prop. 36 are borne disproportionately by African American men, who constitute only about 3% of the state's population, but represent approximately 33% of second-strikers and 44% of third-strikers among California prison inmates (Chen 345–370). Texas was the first state to implement a three strikes law in 1974. Also seen as controversial, Texas does not require any of the three felony convictions to be violent (Texas Penal Code 12.42).

Massachusetts' Efforts At Rehabilitating Drug Offenders

      According to the Massachusetts Department of Correction (DOC), 75% of the state prisons' population has a Substance Abuse Need based on the Texas Christian University Drug Screen (Pelletier 2). Throughout the various departments and levels of the Massachusetts criminal justice system, there are several programs designed to rehabilitate offenders with substance abuse issues. Upon admission to a Massachusetts state correctional facility, every inmate will be assessed for substance abuse disorders. If is determined that an inmate would benefit from a substance abuse treatment program, they will be encouraged, but not mandated, to enroll in such a program (Pelletier 3). The programs offered are both residential and non-residential (Pelletier 4). Before release from incarceration, the inmate is put on a health insurance program through Mass Health or a private insurer. Once released and insured, medication-assisted treatments such as Vivitrol, Suboxone and Methadone are offered as well as referrals to doctors, social workers and therapists in the community to which they are being released (Pelletier 4).

     From July, 2014 through December 2014, 42% of inmates with a need for substance abuse treatment completed a residential treatment program, and 15% completed a non-residential treatment program. On the contrary, 37% of inmates assessed to have a need for substance abuse treatment were housed at facilities where substance abuse treatment was not available (Pelletier 6). The Massachusetts DOC has a stated goal of 70% of inmates assessed to be in need of substance abuse treatment to complete a program prior to release by July of 2017 (Pelletier, 6).

     At the county jail level, substance abuse treatment programs vary widely from county to county,

but most do offer some form of treatment (Pelletier, 7). In Barnstable County, a residential, boot-camp-style residential treatment program, known haste Residential Substance Abuse Treatment Program (RSAT), is available to male inmates who meet program admissions criteria. Barnstable County House of Corrections is also one of the few county-level correctional facilities in the United States to offer facilitation of medically assisted substance abuse treatment, in this case, Vivitrol, just prior to, and after an inmate's release (What Happened, 2014).

Rehabilitation Efforts of Other Jurisdictions

       Portugal: Several countries in Western Europe have taken their own innovative approach to combating drug addiction. These countries have mostly decriminalized all drug possession for personal use crimes; they have expanded drug treatment and have implemented large, well funded harms-reduction programs run by the national government. Portugal was the first Western European country to implement such a policy, and the policy's results have been very well studied.

In 2001, Portugal decriminalized simple drug possession (possession for personal use) crimes. The new law maintained the status of illegality for using or possessing any drug for personal use without authorization. However, the offense was changed from a criminal offense with prison as a possible punishment, to an administrative offense if the amount possessed was no more than ten days' supply of that substance (EMCDDA, 2011). Data from a comprehensive 2009 report on Portugal's new drug policy indicates that decriminalization has had no adverse effect on drug usage rates. However, drug-related pathologies, such as HIV/AIDS and deaths due to drug usage, have decreased dramatically as seen in the graph below. (Greenwald, 10).

           Several years before the implementation of these eased drug possession laws, Portugal had created a large, state run harms-reduction program, utilizing the country's pharmacies as venues for needle exchanges which promote safe use and drug treatment options to addicts. The needle exchange program, "Say NO! to a used syringe," is a nationwide syringe exchange program which has been

ongoing since October 1993, involving some 2,500 pharmacies throughout Portugal. It is run by the

National Committee against AIDS, and was set up by the Ministry of Health and the National

Association of Pharmacies, a nongovernmental organization representing the majority of Portuguese pharmacies. All drug users can exchange used syringes at pharmacy counters across the country. They get a kit with clean needle syringes, a condom, rubbing alcohol and a written message motivating users to prevent AIDS and to seek addiction treatment. From 1994 to 1999, pharmacies delivered around three million syringes annually (EMCDDA 2011).

      In addition to these other measures, Portugal has expanded drug treatment options for addicts. Health care for drug users in Portugal is organized mainly through the public network services of

treatment for illicit substance dependence, under the Institute on Drugs and Drug Addiction, and the Ministry of Health. In addition to public services, certification and protocols between NGOs and other public or private treatment services ensure a wide access to quality-controlled services encompassing several treatment modalities such as detoxification units, inpatient rehabilitation programs, and intensive outpatient programs. The public services provided are free of charge and accessible to all drug users who seek treatment. There are 73 specialized treatment facilities (public and certified private therapeutic communities), 14 detoxification units, 70 public outpatient facilities and 13 accredited day centers provide full coverage of drug outpatient treatment across all but four of Portugal's eighteen districts (EMCDDA 2011).

      Because there is little reliable information about drug use, injecting behavior or addiction treatment in Portugal before 2001, a thorough study on the impact of Portugal's new drug policy has not been done (EMCDDA 2011). There are, however, statistical indicators that suggest the following correlations between the drug strategy and the following developments from July 2001 up to 2007:

• Reduction in new HIV diagnoses amongst drug users by 17% (Cardoso et al. 14).
• Reduction in drug related deaths although this reduction has decreased in later years (Cardoso et al. 14) (Hughes and Stevens 3).
• More addicts entering treatment facilities (Hughes and Stevens 6).
• Drug use among adolescents (13-15 yrs) and "problematic" users declined (Hughes and Stevens 2010).
• Drug-related criminal justice workloads decreased (Hughes and Stevens 2010).
• Decreased street value of most illicit drugs, some significantly (Hughes and Stevens, 2010).

      Texas: At the other end of the spectrum, the U.S. State of Texas is known for its lack of harms

reduction and drug treatment practices. Texas does not permit access to clean syringes for intravenous drug users, does not have naloxone (Narcan) training and distribution programs available to the public, and has no Good Samaritan law (Drug Policy). Texas relies heavily upon its law enforcement and criminal justice system to curb drug use and addiction, having some of the toughest drug sentencing laws in the United States, and a high number of drug arrests per capita. There is also a very high racial disparity in Texas, with blacks arrested for drug crimes disproportionately more than whites (Drug Policy). Treatment options for inmates are offered in the Texas state prison system; however only 8,200 program placements are available for 152,000 drug-related offenders (Maxwell 19).

Since 1998 to 2013 in Texas,

• Methamphetamine, heroin and marijuana use have been steadily on the rise (Maxwell 31).
• The percentage of drug users infected with Hepatitis C virus (HCV) has increased (Maxwell 20).
• The number of heroin-related deaths has almost quintupled, jumping from 122 deaths in 1999 to 564 deaths in 2010 (Maxwell 28)
• The number of deaths related to methamphetamine deaths has drastically increased from 21 deaths in 1999 to 349 in 2013 (Maxwell, 34).

Recommendations Based on Research

      Within the United States, Massachusetts is often looked upon as socially and politically liberal. Indeed when compared to much of the rest of the U.S., Massachusetts is often a leader in creating innovative social programming. However, when looked at in comparison to the rest of the developed

world, Massachusetts' policies, especially those centered around narcotics and prisons, could be seen as lacking and outdated.

       Harm Reduction: This report's research, along with numerous other studies done on the subject of drug policy would indicate that societies which focus on harm reduction practices for individual drug addicts end up reducing the harm done to the whole society by drugs.

By funding and implementing needle exchanges and safe injection sites staffed with medical and mental health professionals, the Commonwealth of Massachusetts could significantly reduce the spread of bloodbourne pathogens (ie. HIV Hepatitis C), and significantly reduce the number of drug overdose deaths. These sites could also serve as a powerful liaison with the addicted community in promoting drug treatment options.

       Increased Drug Treatment in State Prisons: Compared to Texas and several other states, Massachusetts has good drug treatment options for inmates in state prisons. However, there is room for improvement. By making drug treatment programs available to all inmates who seek them, and by making these programs a central theme in inmates' daily lives and combining them with educational and vocational programs already in place, a drop in recidivism rates would certainly be seen. In fact, the more closely state prisons resemble treatment centers, focusing on rehabilitating inmates, the better they will serve their collective purpose as “correctional facilities.”

       Decriminalization: The effects of decriminalization of all narcotics for personal use in Portugal are clear. The ease of the workload on Portugal's criminal justice system, the willingness of addicts to enter treatment, the drop in adolescent use rates, and the decreased monetary value of street drugs are all directly attributable to Portugal's decision to decriminalize narcotics. Although this policy would seem far out of reach for Massachusetts for many years due to a largely more conservative constituency and view on drug addiction than that of Portugal, this could be a goal to look forward to

sometime in the future.

In Conclusion

       Because most of the world has criminalized behaviors associated with drug addiction, the disease of addiction has been largely treated by law enforcement instead of by mental health and medical professionals. This does a disservice to addicts by punishing them instead of rehabilitating them, to health professionals by not allowing them to offer their services to those who need it, and to law enforcement professionals by forcing them into roles which they are not properly trained and prepared for.

       Here in Massachusetts, we have often been leaders in innovation and changes in policy which the rest of the United States later follows. As we move forward in our attempt to curb drug-related crimes and deaths in Massachusetts, we must once again look outside of established social norms and stigmas to find our solution and deliver it to the rest of our country.

Works Cited

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Chen, E. Y. "Impacts of "Three Strikes and You're Out" on Crime Trends in California and Throughout the United States." Journal of Contemporary Criminal Justice 24.4 (2008): 345-70. Web.

Drug Policy Alliance. "Texas." Texas. Drug Policy Alliance, Jan. 2015. Web. 02 Apr. 2015. <http://www.drugpolicy.org/texas>.

Greenwald, Glenn. Drug Decriminalization in Portugal: Lessons for Creating Fair and Successful Drug Policies. Washington, D.C.: CATO Institute, 2009. Print.

Hughes, C. E., and A. Stevens. "What Can We Learn From The Portuguese Decriminalization of Illicit Drugs?" British Journal of Criminology 50.6 (2010): 999-1022. Web.

Hughes, Caitlin, and Alex Stevens. "The Effects of Decriminalization of Drug Use in Portugal." (n.d.): n. pag. CORE. The Beckley Foundation Drug Policy Programme, Dec. 2007. Web. 3 Apr. 2015. <http://core.ac.uk/download/pdf/91904.pdf>.

"Massachusetts." FAMM. Families Against Mandatory Minimums, 2014. Web. 04 Apr. 2015. <http://famm.org/states-map/massachusetts/>.

Maxwell, Jane C., Ph.D. "Substanc Abuse Trends in Texas: June, 2012." (n.d.): n. pag. University of Texas. The Addiction Research Institute, June 2012. Web. 3 Apr. 2015. <http://www.utexas.edu/research/cswr/gcattc/documents/CurrentTrends2012.pdf>.

Moreira, Maria, Brendan Hughes, Claudia C. Storti, and Frank Zobel. (n.d.): n. pag. EMCDDA Drug Policy Profiles. European Monitoring Centre for Drugs and Drug Addiction (EMCDDA), 2011. Web. 15 Mar. 2015. <http://www.emcdda.europa.eu/attachements.cfm/att_137215_EN_PolicyProfile_Portugal_WEB_Final.pdf>.

OAS. "Guide to Criminal Prosecutions in the United States." Information Exchange Network for Mutual Assistance in Criminal Matters and Extradition. Organization of American States, 2007. Web. 03 Apr. 2015. <https://www.oas.org/juridico/mla/en/usa/en_usa-int-desc-guide.html>.

Pelletier, Kyle. "Substance Abuse Treatment and Corrections: An Investment in Public Safety."  (n.d.): n. pag. Website of the Executive Office of Public Safety and Security. Massachusetts  Department of Corrections, Jan. 2015. Web. 1 Apr. 2015. <http://www.mass.gov/courts/docs/specialty-courts/specialty-courts-doc-presentation.pdf>.

St Louis, Michael R., Esq. "Massachusetts Drug Laws and Sentencing." Avvo. Avvo, 23 May 2012.                     Web. 22 Mar. 2015. <http://www.avvo.com/legal- guides/ugc/massachusetts-drug-laws-                     and-sentencing>.

Wall, Troy. "Melissa's Bill Key Priorities and Crimes Summary." Scribd. Troy Wall, 20 July, 2012.                       Web. 07 Apr. 2015. <https://www.scribd.com/doc/100627241/Melissa- s-Bill-Key-                              Priorities-and-Crimes-Summary>.

What Happened Here: The Untold Story of Addiction on Cape Cod. Dir. Sam Tarplin. By Zach                             Gallagher. Prod. Nate Robertson and Sam Tarplin. Perf. Ali Carlisle and Steve Mullally.                     Tarplin-Robertson Productions, 2014. DVD.

Junkie! The Politics of Language

Recently I have seen the word “junkie” thrown around a lot by people. Junkie is one of those words loaded with connotations. It is a slur, used derogatorily by non-addicts to label people who have addiction issues. This label is used to categorize people on the social spectrum. Categorization of people into different labels and groups isn't anything that will be going away soon. The process of categorization allows us simplify and organize our perceptions of the world around us. This is essential for understanding our own place within our surroundings. Social stigma is the process that links a negative attribute to a social identity. For instance, the word “slut” is a stigma used against women who are deemed “overly promiscuous”. “Junkie” is no different. Stigmatized groups range across the spectrum – women, ethnic or racial minorities, LGBT, people with disabilities, economically disadvantages, and many others have all been faced with varying degrees of oppression.

Drug addiction has been a hot button issue lately. We see it appearing in the newspaper nearly everyday and it has entered in the public discourse more and more. Just recently we have begun to see the overall acceptance of drug addiction as a disease rather than a moral deficiency. One that requires a healthcare solution, not just a law-and-order one. For the first time in history, drug addicts both in recovery and active have been coming out of the woodwork and making their voices heard. For a long time people who suffered from addiction hid behind the veil of anonymity, because coming forward would mean facing social stigma and often times incarceration. Today that is not necessarily the case. Marty Walsh was elected Mayor of Boston despite identifying as an alcoholic in recovery, Chris Herren (the ex-Boston Celtic player) has come forward as an an addict in recovery, and a host of others from Hollywood to our neighborhood. 

From L to R; Chris Herren, Mayor Walsh, Philip Seymour Hoffman

This “coming out” marks the turning point for addiction advocacy. The same way people in the LGBT community came out publicly about sexuality. This is a crucial way to humanize our identities and the reclaim our status as deserving members of the community. When people who are not addicts use the word “junkie” to describe a human being, it sets us back to the past where we were considered less than human, undeserving, and outside of society. Our community needs to be mindful of the language we use. As distinguished anthropologist Edward Sapir notes, “With language we categorize, distinguish, and create the universe. Ultimately, we perceive the world according to our language.” This means that words are not empty. In fact our language constructs our reality. When we come across people who refer to us as “junkies”, it is because they do not value us as human beings either consciously or unconsciously. History has shown us that “our kind” are not welcome. The best way to combat this perception is to show them who we are. We live among you, we are your landscapers, baristas, lawyers, babysitters, teachers, and your politicians. The next time you have a conversation about addiction be conscious of the language used, if we can transform how we talk about addiction we can transform how we treat it.

Sincerely,
Nate Robertson, Your Local Junkie
PS. I better not catch you calling me that