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On Jan. 8, Vermont Gov. Peter Shumlin broke with tradition and devoted his entire State of the State address to drug addiction.
In the history of politics, this had to be a first.
“Open your eyes,” he seemed to be saying. “This is the reality in your front yards.”
What started as an OxyContin and prescription drug addiction problem in Vermont has now grown into a full-blown heroin crisis. Last year, they had nearly double the number of deaths in Vermont from heroin overdose as the previous year.
His message wasn’t lost on the rest of the country: Vermont’s alarming statistics are shared with other states.
But here was a politician calling the heroin crisis a crisis and he seemed eager to show the rest of the country that he was going to face it head on.
Other states are stepping up: Just recently, Maryland hired a full-time employee who is tasked with strengthening the state’s drug rehab centers along with instituting a better system for tracking the number of drug overdoses statewide.
Last Thursday, in an attempt to get a handle on local drug issues, I attended a class held for opiate users in a room at the Mental Health Association on Water Street.
What I saw there were 22 people who weren’t at all happy to be addicts. Some had gotten there through injury – they’d begun using opiates for pain relief. I learned that it is entirely possible to have a car accident and find yourself at an addiction class two years later.
In fact, anything you think you know about drug abuse goes right out the window when you start to look at it. This wasn’t a classroom full of people who grew up in poverty and had no opportunity and little hope: These people are your neighbors.
It’s a fantasy to believe that addiction is limited to certain backgrounds and neighborhoods, and it’s a fallacy to believe that this isn’t your problem. If you value your quality of life, if you feel real concern for the safety of your community, and you believe that it is everyone’s job to look out for their neighbors and care for one another – then the drug issue belongs to all of us.
Here’s the thing: Heroin use is soaring in rural America. That means Jamestown, and Marinette, Wis., and rural Kentucky.
It used to be that in the 1970s and 80s, heroin was an inner city problem. But it’s changed its navigational course to include rural areas that are ill prepared to handle it. A recent study out of Maine showed that 93 percent of nationwide facilities that have treatment programs are located in metropolitan areas. Hospital emergency rooms are often far from rural areas which increases the risk that drug use can be lethal.
Take the small town of Huntington, W.Va., with a population of 50,000. Heroin became a problem there less than two years ago, and the local sheriff said it’s the most pressing issue that they face. Crime has become ramapant and overdoses are reported too often.
Then there’s Marinette, Wis. The town (population 11,000) says it’s having problems filling job positions because so many applicants are testing positive for heroin. They’ve addressed it by assembling a consortium of community organizations to look at the problem, all the while juggling a 31-percent increase in crime.
Why is this happening in small-town America?
In a 2005 report called “Substance Abuse in Rural and Small Town America,” things like unemployment, lack of higher education and alcohol abuse were named, but it’s clear that addiction is a complex issue that can’t be tied neatly in a bow.
The most impressive rural response I’ve gleaned so far came from Kirksville, Miss., a small town with a big drug problem. It was police chief James Hughes that started turning things around.
Hughes helped form a community coalition to fight the problem – which included mental health professionals, public schools, teachers, churches, businesses and judges.
By using free advertising in the local media, they educated the public about the telltale signs of drug use. Tips began to come across the tip line. They held workshops, encouraged a series of articles in their local paper, educated citizens about the costs a community incurs from drug abuse, and adopted a proactive attitude. They vowed to help addicts overcome their addiction while adopting a no-tolerance policy to drug manufacturing, distribution or usage.
It was their way or the highway.
Hughes admits they haven’t entirely overcome the issues that plague them, but there’s been progress. What they’ve done is focus their attention on their own neighborhoods and not entertain the notion that they can solve the drug problems in the whole state.
It seems that some measure of success can come from taking an aggressive stand and by convincing people that the drug problem is everyone’s problem.
A coalition coordinator from Kirksville said it best: “When sectors come together, you’re able to intensify the message. You have more arms reaching out there.”