By RJ O.

Cold, selfish and unhappy is how I spent my Christmas in years past. My mood and emotions reflected Mother Nature on a cold winter night. I always looked forward to Christmas morning when I would receive many gifts, but I was always ungrateful and all I wanted to do was exchange the gifts I had been given for something “better”. Everyone around me was all smiles and on this beautiful day while I indulged in my own churlish attitude. A part of me knew that I should be thinking about others and focusing on giving rather than receiving, but that part of me was like a mouse trapped in a giant Tupperware bowl scrapping at the transparent wall trying to get out. It took me a full year during my stay to finally allow this seemingly hopeless mouse to see the light of day again.
I arrived at The Family Foundation School on December 14, 2010 I wasn’t looking forward to spending another Christmas away from home. My previous Christmas before was spent in the woods of Vermont in, The True North Wilderness Program provided a Christmas that I would never forget. On Christmas morning I was handed a wooden spoon and five Tootsie Rolls. You would think I would be grateful after graduating from the wilderness program, but after going home and surrounding myself with the same people, places and things, I shut out the new person I had become during my wilderness experience. I put myself in a position where I was going to miss my second Christmas with my family and I was not thrilled to say the least.
I adjusted well to the school, but I wasn’t the most pleasant person to be around during the holidays. Materialistically I was content, but there was something missing. I felt like the Grinch with a shriveled up heart because all I cared about was me and nobody else. I did in fact gain some relationships with kids because I was living with them; the same superficial relationships I shared with friends back home.
Early November 2011 I found out I was going to miss another Christmas at home. My first reaction was to be frustrated and complain about something I couldn’t change. But after thinking about the true meaning of Christmas and saying a prayer I had a change of heart. With a selfless attitude my 2011 Christmas at The Family School was one to remember.
Love spread through Talbot House faster than a blink of an eye. This warm compassion felt like burrowing up in your blanket on a frigid night. Everyone was happy and nothing else mattered besides seeing the expression on the face of the person who was opening up the present you got them. When I went home on December 27 and this selfless, open-hearted attitude traveled with me from the school to my family. These new emotions felt weird at first because I had never showed them in my home or in front of my family. It would be a lie if I said I wasn’t excited to open up presents at my house, but my mind wasn’t consumed by these material things. I was content with being home and being surrounded by people that I love and by people that love me, so opening presents was the icing on the cake of a memorable day.

 Lisa G. graduated from The Family School in December 2003. This letter is a continuation from the last issue, where she talks about her journey of service and charity. Her trip is coming to an end and she shares her thoughts and feelings.

 Hujambo!

Please forgive the briefness of this update, but I am currently very strapped for time. So, I’ve completed six weeks now in Tanzania and there were many changes in the last two weeks. First, we got in a fresh group of four-week volunteers, and our last “four weekers” have gone. I have a new roommate. His name is Chris and he’s an amazing person. I feel incredibly lucky to have what I feel is the best living situation of anyone, but my opinion is probably a bit biased. We also started our community teaching these last two weeks. We go to bomas (or groups of houses belonging to one family) and if they have time and the inclination, we teach them about any health topic they’re interested in. So far, the main topic of interest has been family planning, and I’m glad since many families have upwards of eleven children. One very interesting boma we visit has one Babu (grandfather) who is 91 years old, with his 8 wives (plus three more in another region). He has 55 children, 300 grandchildren, and his youngest wife is only 19. It seems so strange, but it is very interesting to talk with them and to learn about their beliefs as this is a very traditional Maasai family. The children do not go to school, so sometimes we teach them English if we have time.

Anyway, I think we’re making a really big difference, and all the participants seem very eager to learn about everything. We’ve also been doing several community improvement projects including filling a started but never completed latrine hole, fixing more desks, and conducting after-school activities with the children, during which we’ve been teaching them about different cultures all over the world. We’ve also painted educational canvases to hang in the classrooms. Our days are busy and completely full, and I fall in bed exhausted every day, but I am also extremely fulfilled and satisfied with the work we are doing here.

I’m coming into my last two weeks here, and I’m extremely sad. I don’t know how I’ll say goodbye to this place, and maybe sometime I’ll tell you more about the personal changes I’ve been going through. Suffice it to say, I am a very different person from who I was when I left, and I struggle with the idea of returning to my old life. Anyway, I hope this update finds you well. -Lisa.

By Cameron S.

Chris S., a Family School alumnus, is an admissions counselor at FFS. Impeccably dressed in a crisp shirt and tie, Chris looks the part of a rising young professional. It’s hard to believe that his life was once unmanageable.

Chris was born on February 23, 1989 in Johnson City, N.Y. However, his family soon moved to nearby Endwell where he spent the rest of his childhood. He grew up in a middle class family with both parents and two older brothers. Every Sunday he and his family would attend Catholic services and go to his grandmother’s house to spend time with his cousins, aunt and uncles. It seemed like the perfect family.

Despite this, Chris felt a lot of anger growing up. He harbored resentment and jealousy toward his brothers. “I always felt they were smarter and more athletic than I was,” he said. Chris got very involved in sports to channel these negative feelings. He power lifted, wrestled and played football. In high school he experimented a little with drugs and alcohol, but it never stuck. “The first time I got high, it felt really good, but coming down was horrible; I felt sick and it just wasn’t worth it.” His anger problem escalated, however, and he started to inflict pain upon his family. Chris threw tantrums when he didn’t get his way and bullied anyone who got in his way, especially his mother.

He arrived at The Family School on February 2, 2005. In the beginning of his stay, he was angry and vindictive, looking for fault in everyone but himself. “When I realized the pain I was causing my parents, I wanted to make it right. I believe that was when I had my spiritual awakening.”

Through working with his sponsor Tex, and living by the principles he developed at FFS, he graduated in December 2007. After graduation, he attended SUNY Fredonia with a major in psychology and a minor in criminal justice.

Experiencing some loneliness one day during college, Chris pulled out his signing book from FFS and started to look through some screen names he got from students. One screen name that he found belonged to Carmen A. He entered her name into his AIM account and they started instant messaging. Today, they are happily married and have two dogs. Regarding Carmen’s family, he said, “They have welcomed me in with open arms; they are very fun and loving group.”

Chris came back as staff because he wanted to give back to the school that gave him a spiritual life and mended his relationship with his family. He has been working at FFS since May 2010 and plans to go back to school to get a doctorate in psychology. Chris is still young, but he is well on his way to a long and successful life, one day at a time.

By Ron R.

Six January graduates were invited by Mike L. to share their experience, strength, and hope with addicts at Princeton House, a drug and alcohol rehabilitation center in New Jersey.

The trip departed on a Tuesday morning following chapel. Its first stop: the 30-foot tall Samadhi Buddha statue, which stands at the New Jersey Buddhist Vihara in Princeton.

After a quick photo-op in front of the famous Buddha belly, the group headed to Princeton House. Ron R., who had attended this rehab prior to arriving at The Family School, was asked to share his story. After his story, the residents of the inpatient rehab introduced themselves.

They took turns asking the FFS students about their experiences in recovery. “Having the opportunity to share my story with people who were in the same situation as I was 13 months ago was amazing,” said Ron R.

“It was a great experience. It reminded me of what I was like and why I need to continue what I’m doing,” said Kevin D. After the meeting was over, the students dispersed. They then mingled for twenty minutes.

“I got the most out of speaking one-on-one. It gave me a chance to share more intimately, and it made me feel good to know that I was helping,” said Ileana A.

The students shared their thoughts and feelings on the ride home, content after a long day of emotional growth. They also received “thank you” cards from the group to whom they had spoken.

“I didn’t realize the impact I had on the clients until I received the card a week later. It was a great experience,” said Kevin.

Mike will continue to take senior students to various rehab facilities to share their experience, strength and hope. They will be attending Arms Acres, as well as Princeton House, again.

By Becca W.

Different cultures celebrate the arrival of the new year with a variety of rituals. Most Americans associate New Year’s Eve with rarely-kept resolutions, champagne and watching New York City’s twinkling ball drop on TV. However, in Jewish culture, the arrival of the New Year season (the High Holidays) means much more than a party.

Rosh Hashana (r?sh hä-shä-nä), “Head of the Year” in Hebrew, begins this holy, introspective time. Traditionally, Jews eat apples and honey in order to have a sweet New Year, as well as round challah bread to symbolize “coming full circle.”

This celebration lasts for two days, which are spent in prayer and festivity. On the afternoon of the first day, Jews perform a ceremony called tashlich (täsh-l?ch), in which they throw breadcrumbs into a body of water  to symbolically cleanse themselves of the year’s sins. Additionally, the shofar, or ram’s horn, is blown during the service in order to awaken everyone to the new season. FFS students attended services at Temple Sholom in Monticello, N.Y., and observed tashlich at the FFS pond with environmentally-friendly dried leaves (breadcrumbs could disrupt the pond’s ecosystem).

The ten-day span between Rosh Hashana and Yom Kipur (y?m k?-pür), “Day of Atonement,” is known as Yamim Nora’im (yä-m?m n?-rä-?m), “Days of Awe.” It is a time for honest reflection, when Jews appraise their actions during the past year, identify what they did well and what they could have done better, and apologize to those whom they had wronged in the previous year.

Yom Kipur, a fast day that lasts from sundown to sundown, is the holiest day of the Jewish year and the culmination of this intense period of moral self-assessment. FFS students attended Kol Nidre (kôl n?-dr?), night services preceding Yom Kipur, at Temple Agudas Achim in Livingston Manor, N.Y.

FFS students went to Temple Sholom for Yom Kipur morning services. On this day, Jews repent to God so they can start the year with guiltless consciences. Traditionally, Jews do not wear leather (because it is made of the skin of another of God’s divine creations) and wear white to symbolize purity and absolution. Some Jews wear a funeral shroud to remind them of their own mortality. They spend the day praying, meditating, and atoning for the past year’s sins. The day is both physically and emotionally demanding: food and water are prohibited, the services are long, and it is incredibly hard to take a sincere look at the reality of our misconduct and to muster the courage to ask for forgiveness.

These concepts—truthful self-examination, confession, and amends to those we had harmed—provide the foundation for a 12-Step way of life. After all, though they are not related directly to any religious denomination, the Steps drew from Judeo-Christian ideas. Therefore, it’s no surprise that this integral Jewish tradition was a major inspiration for many of the Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous. To FFS students, who live in an environment based on these ideas, the emotional workout of the Jewish New Year season was comfortingly familiar.

By Roger M.

A memorial service in honor of Terry M., a man who touched thousands of people’s lives as a longtime staff member of The Family School before his death in October 2010, was held on October 9.

December 2010 FFS graduate Andrew D. worked extremely hard to make this occasion special. He and a team of students arranged bouquets around the chapel, placed a statue of St. Francis of Assisi on the altar, and set up candles next to each pew.

The ceremony began with The Eagles song “Desperado,” which Terry used to play at the FFS chapel services he led. Then, Terry’s closest friends approached the podium to speak about how he had touched their lives and to celebrate him as a man.

Lindy M., Terry’s wife, was the first to speak. She expressed how touched she was by the silent, awe-filled aura of love that filled the chapel. “I feel like I’m home,” Lindy said.  She then went on to speak more about her life’s journey, the love and the hardship she and Terry shared, with poignant anecdotes that illustrated his wit and knack for spreading joy, and his signature tongue-in-cheek humor.

FFS staff members Chris S. and Mike A. also spoke about their friendship with Terry. Additionally, students from the school got up and read stories from Tales from the Chicken Farm, a book of writings by and about Terry M., published in 2011. This was especially touching because many of the students who helped out with the service and read at the podium arrived at The Family School after Terry had already passed away.

All who knew or heard of Terry respected him for his selflessness, love, endearing gruffness, and twinkling Irish eyes. He was a great man, and those who knew him still miss him immensely. However, it is important to remember that his legacy lives on in those who live by the principles he taught and who carry the message as he did, passing it on with love.

Ron R.

I was sitting in my bedroom, minding my own business, when my sister knocked on the door. She said that she needed to have a word with me. I stepped into her room, not knowing the severity of the conversation that we were about to have. We had just begun talking when she interrupted abruptly to tell me that one of my best friends had killed himself.

This friend of mine was one of the few who didn’t use drugs. He was an Eagle Scout and a fireman. His death illustrates one of the main reasons why everybody needs somebody to talk to and that without acceptance little situations build up and become unbearable.

When I went to visit my friend’s family, his mother said, “If I had just been able to tell him at least that I loved him that morning before he left the house, things might have turned out differently. I’ll never get that moment back.”

My friend acted as if he were a happy young adult but on the inside he must have been suffering immensely.

For my first four months at The Family School I kept my problems bottled up. Then I got high at the school where nobody does. It hit me that I didn’t want to end up like my friend or have my family continually reminded of what little action I took towards seeking help. As a result of my act-out I was given a number of consequences, I was only allowed to talk with my sponsor and four trustworthy students in my family. Finally, I was able to admit that I had a problem and I became open to suggestions. I started listening to what people had to say and I never let any of my problems go unspoken. During this time is also when I accepted the fact that I was a drug addict.

This is one of the events in my life where I thought the misery I felt would last forever. I would let negative emotions take over my whole being. As I worked through these problems I realized that sitting in my head was the worst possible action I could take. I realized that no matter how large or minute the issue, I could not let it take me over. But, fighting it wasn’t the answer: I had to accept my problems, offer them up and let them go.

Before I arrived at FFS my life was filled with rebellion; there was no acceptance of my way of living.

The Serenity Prayer says, “Grant me the serenity to accept the things that I can not change,” which could be applied to almost every situation. This prayer helps me accept the things that I want to revolt against. When a situation used to arise in my life that wasn’t under my control, I would get upset and frustrated. When I came to understand that a higher power would take care of me, it put a whole different perspective on my reactions. I started to have some peace where there had always been turmoil.

For I saw that acceptance meant keeping in touch with my higher power. Practicing the third step in every aspect of my life and accepting situations that arose through daily was as simple as taking a breath of air.

If I was letting an issue run riot in my mind over and over again, I would get sicker by the moment and nothing changed. Something I found when I was in a position where I thought my issues would never end was a simple  conversation with somebody about what is going through my head. Once I learned to go to a friend or family member to ask them for help, my life turned around 180 degrees.

The primary purpose of Alcoholics Anonymous is to stop drinking and to help the alcoholic that still suffers. This past month, FFS students have been trying to fulfill that purpose by visiting rehabilitation centers and sharing their own experience, strength, and hope.

The trips to rehabs have been organized by senior living skills instructor, Mike Losicco. In the past month alone, groups of seniors preparing to leave the school have visited three rehabs, including Arms Acres, located in New York; Princeton House, located in Princeton, New Jersey; and High Focus, which is also in New Jersey. Visiting the rehabs provides the students an opportunity to practice the 12^th step of Alcoholics Anonymous, which is to carry the message. It also provides many of the students with a way of “keeping it green,” because many of the students have been to these rehabs, if not some other drug rehabilitation program prior to arriving at The Family School.

Several kids got a lot out of their trip to the rehabs. On one of the visits to Princeton House, FFS student Kevin G. shared his story for the first time in his new sobriety. Although it was uncomfortable, it was a very rewarding experience. “It’s very cool to be able to look back on my life and my past decisions. I felt like I was able to have new insight on who I am, and was able to help out people in the process,” said Kevin.

On one of the trips to Arms Acres, student Jordan N. had a great time sharing his experience, strength, and hope with the residents there. After sharing his story, one of the patients came up to him and told him that he had a very similar story. The boy and Jordan shared their experiences with one another and exchanged numbers. “I had never met him before, and after fifteen minutes of talking, it seemed as if we had known each other for years. It was a great experience,” said Jordan.

Given the success of the trips, the school plans on continuing them even after graduation and possibly making it into a new tradition for FFS seniors. “I really enjoy taking the kids on the trip, some of the people in these rehabs are only days sober and its really great to be able help give them their first touch of real sobriety,” said Losicco.

Through these trips, students are really learning the meaning of the A.A. slogan, “You have to give it away to keep it.”

By Brian H.

How it was, what happened, and how it is now…These are the questions I was asked to answer. I am very privileged to share my answers with your readers.

How it was? Lonely is the only word I could use to describe my active addiction. I remember being with crowds of people, friends, and girlfriends, yet feeling so isolated. I would do anything to be a part of that crowd and gain their acceptance. If I had to steal, I would; cheating wasn’t an issue at all. White lies became a huge part of my life and my sickness. The worst part of all was that I had the illusion that I was having fun.

What happened? I felt like a beached whale taken out of the water and thrown into a rehab and drug treatment cycle. Drug tests in school, numerous outpatient and inpatient rehabs, and an enormous amount of pain to my beloved parents woke me up. After checking myself out of Princeton House, an outpatient rehab, my parents begged me to attend The Family School and gain the help I needed. This was the last program I wanted to stay at, but I promised my parents I would go.

How it is now? There were two questions I had to ask myself to get to the point of where I am now: am I dumb enough to bite the hand that feeds me? How far gone am I? These two questions brought me to the true answer: my parents love me. They went through thick and thin to get me the help I needed. It is the same for all kids and their struggle to accept their parents’ love.

One day at time, I will keep my sword and my shield at my side. I can’t fight love anymore: instead I am at battle with my in­ner pain. I keep my emotions true to myself and strive towards hap­piness. These are my goals, and I will achieve them only by the grace of my Higher Power.

Dear Marjorie,

Life doesn’t seem to be going in my favor lately. My grades are dropping rapidly, and I feel like my whole family resents me. My family situation at home is not working out the way I would like it to either. I really have no clue how to deal with all these issues and still maintain passing grades at school. Please give me ideas of how to obtain a normal lifestyle again.

Sincerely,

Down in the Dumps

Dear Down,

You have to remember that your life is in your own hands! Don’t think of yourself as a bystander and watch your life pass you by. Take control, begin your mornings with prayer, and set aside time every day to get your work done.

Dear Marjorie,

I’ve been having a lot of trouble with the girls in my family recently. Every time I confront one of them, they respond by rolling their eyes, muttering under their breath, jus­tifying what they are doing, etc. I try to stand up for my principles and uphold the rules, but it’s getting more and more difficult and I feel very discouraged and overwhelmed. After the graduates leave in June, I will be expected to “step up” as a “senior member,” but a part of me wants to run and hide from the responsibility.

Sincerely,

Confused Coward

Dear Confused,

Don’t set aside your principles because the girls in your family do not make it easy for you. Of course it makes it more difficult, but that is a part of the challenge that God puts in front of you. Also ask for help from the staff and students who will back you up.

Dear Marjorie,

The issue of self-esteem often came up in daily events throughout my life, and still does now. For as long as I can remember, I was always self-conscious. There’s this constant uncomfortable feel­ing that I feel like I can’t escape. I can remember myself at ten years old realizing that being uncomfortable with yourself is not attractive to other people. So since that realization, I worked at making it seem like I was not self-conscious. The first time I got drunk, I finally felt comfortable in my own skin, so I always stayed drunk and high. When I was forced to go to FFS, I was especially vulner­able and couldn’t face anything. A bit of time has passed and I’ve been gaining strength, but I’m not sure if who I appear to be externally is who I truly am. I’m pretty sure I’ve been train­ing myself to be someone else. What now?

Sincerely,

Lost Identity

Dear Lost,

Many alcoholics feel com­fortable in their own skin after drinking; it is part of the reason why so many drink. So know that you are not alone. It will be a process to become more comfortable without the drink but pray for God’s help, and talk to your sponsor about what else you can do.