TESTIMONIES SHOW VALUE OF DRUG COURT

Mississippi lawmakers currently debating the fate of drug court legislation
would do well to pause and consider the testimonies of recent graduates
from drug court. The testimonies are powerful.

Moreover, they underscore the tremendous value of this oft-neglected
program - a program that could expand statewide if the Legislature adopts
Senate Bill 2605.

On Tuesday, the Hinds County Drug Court Diversion program - one of only
four operating around the state - held a graduation ceremony for five
participants.

With state Supreme Court Chief Justice Edwin L. Pittman in attendance, the
graduates took turns lauding the program and illustrating the ways it had
changed their lives.

"I never thought I would have another chance in life because when I was out
in the streets on drugs, I had given up on myself," said 37-year-old
Frenchie Funchess of Jackson, who landed in jail on a cocaine possession
charge. "Drug court was a gift to me. I had lost everything I had. I have
my kids back in my life."

Alvin Walker, 39, of Jackson, told the 50 people in attendance he would be
dead now if not for drug court.

"They saw something in me and it paid off," said Walker.

These types of stories are heard again and again at graduation ceremonies
for drug court participants.

If lawmakers approve SB 2605, which is now in a conference committee,
hundreds of additional drug offenders - many of whom are shuttled off to
prison - would have a second chance at life.

Implementing a statewide drug court system would save money, free up prison
space for other - more violent - offenders, restore lives and families and
reduce the number of burglaries and property crimes (many of which are drug
related).

Contrary to popular opinion, drug court is no picnic.

Participants - e.g. nonviolent offenders convicted of drug offenses - must
adhere to a strict regimen: Attend weekly meetings, hold jobs, pass regular
drug tests and pay court costs.

However, unlike incarceration, drug courts give offenders something often
denied prison inmates: The opportunity to redeem themselves.