CROSSING AT KEREMEOS IS HELP CLOSE TO HOME

Long-Term Residential Treatment For Young Drug Addicts To Open This
Month

British Columbia opens its first long-term residential treatment
program for youth this month, which means young people addicted to
drugs can finally get help here instead of being flown to Central or
Eastern Canada.

Forty-nine young people from B.C. have been sent to Quebec, Ontario or
New Brunswick over the last three years to seek residential treatment,
as part of a pilot project run by the Vancouver Coastal and Fraser
health boards.

That is expected to stop when the Crossing at Keremeos, south of
Penticton, opens in late January for drug addicts aged 14 to 24.

Roberta Watt was raised in Vancouver but when her drug habit got out
of control in 2006, she flew to Montreal to attend an 11-month
treatment program run by Portage, the same non-profit rehabilitation
agency that will operate Keremeos.

Today, Roberta, 20, is a self-confident young women who is clean and
healthy, working and studying, and just jazzed by life.

Little more than two years ago, you might have seen her on East
Hastings and dismissed her as dysfunctional and despondent.

"I was such a sick little girl inside this addict: I'm lost, I'm
lonely, I'm scared inside, but I have such a big ego that I won't let
you see it," Roberta recalled.

She attributes her turn-around, in part, to Portage, whose philosophy
is to encourage personal achievement with the support of family and
friends, as well as peers who are also in recovery.

The Crossing at Keremeos is the result of nearly a decade of
determined efforts by From Grief to Action, a group of Vancouver
parents with children with addictions, and the Central City
Foundation, a non-profit organization that is raising $6.5 million for
the capital costs of the project.

The foundation is $250,000 short of reaching its goal.

The $2.4 million annual operating costs will be shared by the
Vancouver Coastal and Fraser health boards.

Heather Hay, Vancouver Coastal Health's director of addictions
services, said the Portage program has had an "amazing" impact on the
youth who have been sent east.

"They are instilled with hope, they are reconnected to community, many
of them have been reunified to family, they have found something to
do, either re-engaged with school or work," Hay said. "They have been
able to find a place where they belong. They have improved self-esteem
and developed resiliency to make improved life choices."

One of them is Roberta.

"I met her in treatment, I met her before treatment, I met her after.
So I've seen her through her whole trajectory. It's amazing. She is
just vibrant," Hay said.

"It's not been an easy journey but she's worked hard, and she really
has gained a a tremendous amount of insight. It's amazing."

DABBLED IN DRUGS

Roberta was raised in Dunbar by her supportive father, a successful
businessman. She was a pretty girl with good marks and many friends,
but began dabbling in drugs the summer before she started at Point
Grey secondary.

"Before walking into the doors of high school for the first day I was
already smoking pot," the frank, engaging young woman recalled in a
recent interview.

Her father trusted Roberta and accepted her experimentation with pot,
since she told him it was minor and that she was keeping up her marks.

"Our trust was so deep. We were a powerhouse team, me and him," she
recalled. "But I became more selfish, and I abused that trust. He gave
me an inch and I took a mile."

Roberta's childhood was not one of poverty, but it is no secret that
drugs know no economic or geographic boundaries. Most people are
driven to use by some internal or external factor.

In Roberta's case, one of the most compelling circumstances was that
her own mother, who came from a dysfunctional background, struggles
with her own drug addiction.

"Having an addicted parent definitely contributed. When I was in Grade
4, I went to rehab to visit my mom for Mother's Day," Roberta said,
clearly torn between speaking openly about her troubles and not
wanting to speak ill of her mother.

She believes now she was unable to express her "fears and feelings" as
a young girl. As a form of self-protection, Roberta created a blissful
front of a happy childhood and turned to drugs to keep up the facade.

The fact her mother is still using drugs is painful for Roberta, who
cut off all communication with her mother two years ago when she
started getting clean.

By age 13, she was hooked on ecstasy and had tried her mother's drug,
cocaine. "I really wanted to know what had taken my mom, I really
wanted to know what the fuss was about."

For her 14th birthday, a friend gave Roberta some crystal meth. "That
was the end of that. Crystal meth ripped me and got me."

Roberta, who had loved school, dropped out in Grade 10. Her social
life evolved from school friends to users in the Downtown Eastside.

"Then I just let the whole downtown core consume me," she said.
"Allowing people to take advantage of me whenever, however possible. I
was just this little 14-year-old girl. I really let them devour me."

Her dad was now terrified. He gave her more money, so his daughter
wouldn't do anything desperate to get her drugs.

When she injected for the first time, the naive girl didn't understand
the dire consequences: the high was much more intense and she needed
more drugs to sustain that feeling.

She also didn't think she would be susceptible to the health
risks.

"I was using people's dirty needles, I was using puddle water, I was
using water from the gutter. I am really lucky I am healthy," she
said. "I just thought, 'I'm young and spunky and hot, and I don't
think [getting sick] is ever going to happen to me.'"

As her injection use increased, Roberta began disfiguring herself with
the needles. She made hole after hole in her own skin, deriving
pleasure from the pain.

Her addiction evolved into shooting heroin and her efforts to quit
failed. In an emotional exchange, her grief-stricken father asked if
he should prepare himself for Roberta living this way for the rest of
her life.

It was a jarring conversation. Just after her 18th birthday, in August
2006, she agreed to go into detox, even though she thought she wasn't
"fixable."

However, while in detox for 11 days, she met people who inspired her
to change. "For the first time in my life I'd seen people who had been
to places that were much darker than the places I'd been, and here
they were clean. So there was hope."

She kept herself busy with day treatment programs, meetings and night
school, but desperately wanted to go to a long-term residential
facility to ensure her recovery was firmly cemented. With the help of
an outreach worker, a close friend and mentor, and her sister, Roberta
lobbied Vancouver Coastal Health to send her to Portage.

"The intensity in which I found my addiction, I couldn't play around
anymore. It wasn't fun. There were no parties left in how I used at
all, whatsoever," Roberta said. "What I had to lose was so severe."

After several weeks of perseverance, Roberta left in September 2006
for Montreal and stayed for nearly a year before graduating from the
program. "I slowly started unravelling my story, not only to them but
to myself too. And it took me 11 months."

Being away from Vancouver wasn't devastating for Roberta, but it
wouldn't suit every teen. Some respond better to day programs which
allow them to live at home. "It's really challenging for kids,
particularly in the early days, who are struggling with their own
substance use issues, and may have never travelled before to be sent
so far away," Hay said.

A facility like Keremeos didn't exist in B.C. any sooner for a couple
of reasons, Hay said. Since taking over responsibility for drug
treatment from the province in 2002, the health board had other
priority services to address first.

And, secondly, it has taken Central City and From Grief to Action
eight years to make this project a reality. The province has given $2
million to Keremeos, but the federal government has provided no
funding, Hay said.

It is expected the first 20 beds at Keremeos will open in late January
for girls and young women, and another 22 beds will open for boys and
men by May. It is anticipated that some of the program's past
graduates will work as peer supporters to new clients in B.C.

SIMILKAMEEN CAMPGROUND

The facility is located on a 58-acre former campground in the
Similkameen Valley owned by Central City, one of Vancouver's oldest
charitable organizations, which donates money to causes and capital
projects that help disadvantaged people, especially those in the
Downtown Eastside.

The money raised by the foundation is being used to renovate 14
existing buildings, improve sewer and water services, and construct a
new kitchen and school, said chief executive officer Jennifer Johnstone.

"Lives are going to be saved by this project," Johnstone
said.

Dinah Watt, of Vancouver, is ecstatic about how her sister changed in
Montreal.

"When I started visiting her at Portage, it was just amazing. We could
start rebuilding our relationship," said Dinah, 30. "I could just gush
about Roberta because she is so strong. Recovery takes so long, but
she takes on every challenge. She's become a role model for our
family, the tables have turned. I lean on her now instead of her
leaning on me."

It wasn't an easy road for Roberta, but it has so far been a
successful one. There are still dark days, but she now surrounds
herself with supportive people she can lean on while toiling to leave
her old life in the past.

Roberta has remained in Montreal, where she is studying French, is
three months away from completing her high school diploma, and has
been working as a waitress for a year and a half.

"From me going from hustling some good dope from you, to me now trying
to sell you some ribs or a pulled pork sandwich -- I'm doing well,"
said Roberta, who hopes to go to college and work with children one
day.

Her relationship with her father was forced to change, but their bond
is even stronger now.

"He's still a major support for me, on so many different levels. Our
dynamic is to a point that I never thought possible," she said,
smiling warmly. "I'm learning how to live again, and I'm loving the
journey."