DRUG COURT OFFERS ANOTHER WAY TO GO STRAIGHT

New Edmonton Program Notches Its First Graduate

EDMONTON - Recovering drug addict David Chemago built a second family
in Courtroom 267.

Judge Darlene Wong was his mother. The Crown prosecutor was his father.

And his drug court friends became his brothers and sisters.

Chemago, 37, is the first graduate of Edmonton's drug treatment court
since it came to the city in 2005. The program keeps addicts with a
non-violent criminal history off the streets and out of jail.

There are 22 people enrolled in Edmonton's program, says executive
director Doug Brady.

To graduate, a student must reach all of the goals in their
individualized treatment program.

Chemago could have graduated five months earlier. He delayed it
because he didn't want to leave the support network of the drug court.

"They became a family to me and became someone who cared," Chemago
says. "We've hurt our families with our drug addictions, so for
someone to care -- that's a big thing for me."

He returned to Courtroom 267 one day last week to show the judge who
convicted him a picture of his three children on a recent trip to the
Slave Lake area. He hadn't seem them in more than three years.

Wong peered through her glasses with a friendly grin as Chemago
approached her bench.

"Oh, isn't that a lovely picture," Wong said. "When was that taken?"

During court it isn't out of the ordinary for participants to show
the judge pictures or update her on the past week.

Conversations usually begin with the judge saying, "So what's new?"

Matthew Faithful, 21, has been able to reach all of his goals in the
drug court program.

Faithful stands behind the lectern -- no need for the prisoner's box,
in drug court -- as he tells the judge he is ready to graduate drug
court. He has been in the program for more than a year.

"I hope when you leave us you will come back to visit," says Wong,
after skimming through a letter Faithful wrote, applying for graduation.

He struts back to his seat in the courtroom with a smile from ear to ear.

When a student graduates from the program, Wong comes down from her
bench to the level of the student to congratulate them.

Kim Daubert, 24, will be applying for graduation soon, too. She has
been doing so well that she doesn't have to go to court every week, she says.

All three of these recovering drug addicts pleaded guilty to their
charges, a requirement to get into the program. Chemago and Faithful
were charged with drug trafficking. Daubert was charged with possession.

Faithful gets to graduate but new offenders, still dressed in blue
prison jumpsuits, plead guilty to drug charges.

The judge reviews each case to see if they are suitable for drug
treatment court. Those who make it into the program are released on bail.

The program is a jail-free option, but it isn't easy. The students go
through a strict regime that includes weekly meetings in court with Wong.

Every offender has a different treatment program. Many go to a
criminal addictive-thinking group, one-on-one counselling sessions,
and anonymous drug addiction groups, on top of court appearances.

During court every week, the students tell Wong how many meetings
they have gone to, if they were on time and if they had any relapses.
The entire courtroom will applaud for a student who had a clean drug
test. Students are randomly tested, usually once a week.

If a student relapsed, which is part of recovery, honesty is the best
policy in Wong's courtroom.

"If people are honest then we know where to direct the treatment,
support and resources," Wong says. "If you have someone in denial
then we are not helping."

This day a young woman starts court with the bad news first. She got
into a fight with her family, left her house and went to an area
she's not allowed to visit. She was also late for a one-on-one
counselling session.

As punishment, she is told to write an essay that explains how being
late can affect other people.

Wong admits that's an easy punishment. But those who aren't committed
to the program and constantly break the rules can be kicked out.

So far no one has been forced to leave. Some have opted out, choosing
jail instead. Others have had relapses and have disappeared but have
a chance of rejoining the program.

Kicking their drug habit without a relapse is the hardest part of
drug court, the participants say.

Chemago began to smoke pot after separating from his wife and losing
his children. He later switched to crystal meth but wanted something
more. His addiction to crack cocaine kept him away from his kids for
more than three years.

Daubert wanted to get out of the drug world, too, but her addiction
was too difficult to kick by herself, she says.

Before she started drug court, she would have done just about
anything to get her next hit of crystal meth.

"I would get really angry and I could get violent," Daubert says. "I
went from having a good job to having no job and to support myself I
got into doing criminal activity."

The worst experience of her drug-addicted life was when she missed
her sister's wedding because she was coming off a high, she says. She
was the maid of honour.

Daubert began drug treatment court on April 19, 2006. She expects to
graduate in August.

Faithful was addicted to several types of drugs when he was arrested
shortly after his girlfriend got pregnant.

His lawyer got him into drug court, he says. He wanted to raise his
newborn son, Lucas, in a drug-free environment.

All three of these drug court participants created a list of goals,
which have to be met to graduate.

Daubert says the program helped her escape from the drug world.

"Judge Wong genuinely cares what's going on in your life," Daubert
says. "It offers a lot of support that I've never gotten."

Chemago plans to return to school to become an electrical engineer.
Daubert is upgrading her biology and chemistry studies so she can
become an emergency medical service worker. And Faithful has secured
a steady job that will help him support his family.