Where’s the Outrage?

I’ve been invited to speak about addiction to a state politician this week. This is what I’ve prepared. This is a combination of the work that I’ve done throughout my career, my journey of education, and my lived experience:

First, I’m going to read my poem. I’m including the link because I’m having trouble figuring out how to enlarge the photo so that the text is large enough to read. https://terrifiednomore.com/monmster-madness/

My name is Tonya Karlowicz. I am forever the mother of ‘a certain kind of child’ – one that society labels an addict, and one that society labeled many other things before he acquired that label….disrespectful, defiant, hyperactive, intolerant, etc., etc., etc.

The truth is, all mothers are mothers of certain kinds of children. So then, let me rephrase that. All mothers are mothers of children, human beings, complete with gifts and flaws, DNA that includes genes that hold the possibility or inevitability of disease, DNA that holds the memory of ancestral trauma, and DNA that holds the capacity for strength and for weakness. While each person’s DNA is different, making each human being different, each human being has wonderful gifts that will lie stagnant and go to waste if they are ignored and overshadowed by the labels that come to identify them.

We have a crisis in this nation. Using 2017 data from the National Institute on Drug Abuse, approximately 192 mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, and friends will die today as a direct result of drug overdose. Using the same numbers, this means that, over the course of 2019, we will lose the gifts of 70,200 human beings. These people are not the product of any particular class, race, or ethnicity. Addiction knows no such boundaries. Our human-ness makes us fair game to the monster of addiction.

Sure, some people are more susceptible. The Adverse Childhood Experiences study confirms that trauma plays a key factor in predicting that a person will develop certain diseases, including addiction. A person’s mental health also plays a crucial role, along with genetics.

So what can we do? How can we stop the epidemic of addiction? Beyond the immediate and obvious remedies like more access to better treatment, increasing access to and training people on how to administer Naloxone, etc., the answer to this question and to questions of similar magnitude is the same. The Reclaiming Youth Network’s Circle of Courage model, a reflection of Native American principles of child development, prescribes a way to build healthy communities, communities where every human being belongs, has independence, is recognized as a master of multiple competencies, and can exercise authentic generosity.

The deluge of our society’s afflictions are largely of our own doing. Education philosopher Nel Noddings said it best, “Although no individual can escape responsibility for his own actions, neither can the community that produced him escape its part in making him what he has become.” In my master’s thesis, I wrote, “…the well-being of each contributes to the well-being of the whole and to future generations.” Both of these sentiments underscore that ‘No man is an island.’ There is no such thing as ‘self-made’.

The labels that we so freely bestow upon each other, and especially our youth, are damaging. The second we allow judgment or deserved-ness to enter the equation, is the same second we’ve allowed ourselves to treat that person as ‘less than.’ A person does not need to hear these labels and judgments. They are felt. As a result, the recipients come to believe that they are flawed beyond repair, that they are unwanted, and that they do not belong. And so they bond to others who have been similarly pitched. About these youth, author Michael Meade wrote, “If the fires that innately burn inside youths are not intentionally and lovingly added to the hearth of community, they will burn down the structures of culture, just to feel warmth.”

In Chasing the Scream, Johann Hari wrote, “the opposite of addiction isn’t sobriety. It’s connection.” Hari describes the ‘Rat Park Study’ that was conducted by Bruce Alexander in the 1970s. In the study, Alexander separated some rats into cages of isolation with nothing to keep them busy. The only choice the rats had was to drink plain water or water that had been drugged with morphine. The rats, in these circumstances, drank mostly the drugged water. After a period of time, some of the rats were removed and placed into the Rat Park Community cage. This environment included other rats, toys, plenty of gourmet rat food, and the choice of drugged or plain water. The study revealed that the rats in this environment did not prefer the drugged water. They drank it rarely, and they did not overdose on it. They belonged to a healthy engaging community, and they did the things that healthy rats do.

Our society cannot simply disown certain humans. We are all connected, and we are all impacted by the lives that each of us live. Likewise, we are all impacted by the lives that we are losing to addiction.

Our society lost my son, Blake Matthew Karlowicz. He is forever 28. Let me tell you a little bit about who we lost. We lost a bright and intelligent human being, a visionary, an entrepreneur. We lost a person that loved others, who in elementary school shared his lunch with a classmate whose family could not always provide one, who befriended the outcast throughout his school and adult years, who sat with those feeling down and out until he was sure they would not be lost, a self-proclaimed mama’s boy, and a protective big brother. He was a fisherman and loved snowboarding and mushroom hunting. The outdoors was his sanctuary. He was also a lover of music, playing the guitar and even the piano by ear. Blake thrived at anything he set his mind to – except overcoming addiction that was compounded by mental illness. He hated addiction and the control it had over his life. We all lost Blake on July 23, 2019. Since then, we’ve lost approximately 14,976 more beautiful souls. We must look at ourselves – hard. This is costing every single one of us, individually and collectively.