ADULTS MUST STOP BACKING UP WHEN TEENS NEED THEM MOST

Westley Clark is a doctor and a lawyer, no small accomplishment for a
black guy who grew up poor in Detroit. He could have gone on to make
plenty of money, no doubt, and never looked back. But he couldn't
forget where he came from or ignore the devastated lives of those left behind.

Clark, 59, is director of the Center for Substance Abuse Treatment at
the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services.

That position gives him a unique perspective on one of the most
serious problems ever to plague black America.

"From the age of 18 to 25, our kids go from being below the national
average when it comes to crime and substance abuse to being above the
national average," Clark said during a recent interview at his office
in Rockville. "There are certain things in our community that seem to
be working until that kid reaches 16 or 17. Then, all of a sudden,
their involvement in crime and substance abuse shoots up. So what
happens? What in our community suddenly disappears?"

To put it bluntly: Us.

Confronted by teenagers eager to be grown-ups -- big kids with "ants
in their pants," as Clark calls them -- parents, teachers and
community leaders alike begin to back away, often out of fear, and
then expect them to become responsible adults all by themselves. And
when some of them fall short and turn to drugs to ease the pain of
failure, those same adults profess to be shocked at their behavior
and ashamed of them.

Of course, African Americans are not the only group affected by
substance abuse. The scourge of rural white America, for instance, is
methamphetamine. And the abuse of prescription drugs continues to
rise among the affluent of all races.

But African Americans are uniquely at risk, with alcohol and drugs
fueling rates of AIDS, homicide and incarceration that are the
highest in the country. In the District, for instance, one in 20
residents is infected with HIV, the virus that causes AIDS; about one
in 10 -- an estimated 60,000 men, women and teenagers -- is addicted
to alcohol or drugs.

"Substance abuse undermines the futures and potential of all kinds of
people," Clark said. "But let's face it: We are losing a generation
of African Americans."

Clark could easily have been lost to the streets. But his parents,
neither of whom finished elementary school, made sure that he and his
three brothers understood the importance of education. All went to
college and paid their own way. Clark graduated from the University
of Michigan Medical School and Harvard Law School. He spent three
years as a health policy expert on Capitol Hill and then worked 12
years as an addictions psychiatrist at a community health clinic in
San Francisco. He came to HHS in 1998.

"People say poverty keeps us from doing the right thing, but we must
be careful with the rationalizations. That's the message of the snake
oil salesman," Clark said. "People are trying to achieve a modicum of
comfort through illegal drugs when some things they'd be able to
endure through faith, recreational activities and a change in
worldview would allow them to amass the resources necessary to get
out of poverty."

Clark's office oversees millions of dollars in block grants that go
to health agencies and community groups across the country. A variety
of approaches to treatment gets support; no one size fits all. But
government aid alone is not the answer, he said. Responsibility for
recovery lies not just with the addict or treatment center but with
the entire community.

"Who in the environment is telling the kid that it's not okay to get
high?" he asked. "Who is sending the message that says, 'You can
count on me not to give you a beer or marijuana?' The community has
to reinforce abstinence. Everybody's got to be responsible."

He added: "My days are numbered; I'll be 60 soon. So you have to
think: Who are you going to pass the baton to? You don't just pass
the baton to your immediate family. You pass it to the community, and
if the community embraces the concepts of education, training, skill
development and safety, then everybody benefits, and the future is assured."

As Clark sees it, denial and neglect must give way to integrity and
courage. That prescription might strike some as a bitter pill to
swallow. Or it might be sweet salvation, especially considering the alternative.