Lately I have more time for solitude.
I’m not sure my mind and limbs are equipped for the change.
A good portion of my adult life they have been primed to put out fires.
My children, for the most part, have been the fire starters. Home grown arsonists. For over a decade they have been relentless in their attempts to burn their lives to the ground. And I have been primed to put a stop to that sh$t.

Honestly, someone should have made me a Smokey the Bear outfit by now.

Did you know Smokey the Bear was real? He was a three-month old black bear cub when he became a victim of the Capitan Gap Fire of New Mexico. His hind legs and paws were badly burned before he was able to retreat to the safety of a tall tree.

I am not saying I am damaged. I am not saying I have to be rescued.
But like Smokey, I am a little singed. And like Smokey, I have had a good perch from which to survey the surrounding damage.

And boy is addiction an effective fire starter.

I learned that addiction fuels most crime while sitting ringside at various Massachusetts district courts. At Quincy District Court, Worcester Court and Stoughton Court I noted that nearly all those being prosecuted for civil or criminal crimes had been under the influence of some sort of drug. Crimes like brutal fist fights, petty theft, grand theft, car crashes, spousal abuse, destruction of personal property, breaking and entering, prostitution and drug dealing.

It was an exhaustive, circular list. But each story had a name and a face. There was the elderly woman in crocheted clothing who used her cane to hobble up to the judge: how can she be in trouble when she couldn’t remember hitting that telephone pole while drinking? There was the young man pleading for a reduction in monthly court fees – he was doing well in probation but barely able to make ends meet after weekly sober home payments. There was the teenage girl in raggedy clothing trying not to cry over shoplifting. There was the middle-aged man explaining that he would never hit his girlfriend. But cameras had caught him doing just that outside of the local bar. So many people, so many problems. Victims of a disease perpetrating crimes making even more victims.

So what is the point of this post besides relaying misery?

Well from my vantage point I have learned about the existence of diversion programs. Diversion programs replace criminal incarceration with a series of tailored alternatives: usually drug testing, community support and service, and restitution (restorative justice) for damages. If one fails to follow through they return to traditional sentencing (a crime is a crime and accountability is necessary). But diversion programs work well – especially with juveniles. A 2023 study by the Massachusetts Office of the Child Advocate (in collaboration with DYS) showed a 69% positive closure rate. The Boston Bar Association (2018, v62 #4) showed a recidivism rate of just 16% and a 98% participation satisfaction rate as measured by offenders and victims. (Even victims!).

Unfortunately our family has experience with incarceration – without having committed a crime. Since my teen daughter could not stay sober she was deemed unsafe (which was accurate) and required lock-down supervision. Since no treatment beds were available at addiction centers she was remanded to Framingham State Prison. For five straight days guards laughed as she detoxed. Her days were then spent separated from the general population (explained as a safety measure) leaving her unable to exercise or move around the shared grounds including the library and eating areas. She was unable to reliably use the phone to make necessary calls for next steps (for example lining up a sober home upon her release). There were no AA meetings or therapy of any kind. She spent a month behind these bars. It’s worth noting that Framingham bills the state $160k per inmate, per year. If there’s a crime being committed it’s being committed by the institution.

Where does that leave us? With a burning field! But let’s be realistic: the field was always going to burn. It’s part of nature’s life cycle. And humans are always going to do the wrong thing – that too is human nature. But previously scorched fields can brim with new life. Diseased and damaged wood is fertile ground for new green shoots. Compost after all is made from decay – but to get the mixture right it needs a little tending. Those old promo posters of Smokey didn’t show this internal dilemma. After scrambling down from that tree he had a decision to make: stick around or flee to higher ground. His vantage point* must have taught him something. Because he donned that crisp new ranger outfit.

His catch words? “Care” and “prevention” and “personal intervention.”

*if you have difficulty envisioning the problem: visit your local court – it’s open to the general public. Take a seat and make a day of it. You can’t unsee the cyclical misery.