GOODBYE TO THE BINGE: THE RECOVERY HOUSE

How a Residence for Formerly Substance-Abusing Students Helps Them
Stay Sober

As the first week of school wound down, Nick, 20, a sophomore at Case
Western Reserve University in Cleveland, Ohio, was feeling pretty
comfortable in his new digs, a still tidy five-bedroom, red clapboard
house he shares with three other guys on the edge of campus. He didn't
know any of them well when the semester began, but he knew they had a
couple of things in common. All four are in various stages of recovery
from substance abuse, and each is a charter member of Recovery House,
a new residential program at Case designed to help students with drug
and alcohol problems stay clean and sober.

Most colleges offer substance-abuse prevention programs that warn
about the dangers of binge drinking and illicit drugs. Many urge
students who develop chemical dependencies to leave school and get
treatment. But when those former abusers straighten themselves out and
try to finish their education, they often encounter the same social
situations that got them into trouble in the first place. Now a small
but growing number of colleges are setting up on-campus recovery
programs, and a few even have housing specifically for former
substance abusers. Rutgers University, in New Brunswick, N.J.,
introduced the first recovery dorm in 1988. Last year an alumni
reunion drew about 100 former residents, who credit the housing
program with enabling them to succeed in school and thrive after graduation.

Case Western decided to open Recovery House after the number of
students evaluated for substance abuse at the college jumped 69%, from
29 in the 2000-01 school year, to 49 last year, an all-time high. Says
Jes Sellers, director of Case's university counseling service: "These
students need a safe place to live where threats to sobriety can be
balanced by the collective strengths of a community in recovery."

While Rutgers and other schools insist that students seeking a spot in
their recovery housing be substance free for at least a few months
before starting the program, Case has no sobriety minimum. Indeed, a
Recovery House resident admits that he had his last drink as recently
as Aug. 1. The only requirements Case imposes are that students be
serious about kicking their habit and agree to attend regular
support-group meetings. Andy, 20, a former fraternity president, is
thrilled to be free of the "distractions" that led him to fail most of
his classes last semester. "When [pot] is in your face all the time,
it's easy to get caught up in it," he says. "Now I don't have the
apathy I used to have. I'm ready to apply myself."

Between meetings at local A.A. chapters or the campus support group,
resident coordinator Joe Veliz, a social-work grad student, provides
an empathic ear and makes sure that students stick to their plans. The
only non-negotiable house rules: no drugs or alcohol, of course, and
the observance of quiet hours between 11 p.m. and 8 a.m. "I am not
their parent," Veliz says. "But we know that people in recovery stay
sober longer when they build connections." Given the fragile nature of
recovery, Veliz is prepared for the possibility of a relapse but says
residents won't automatically be booted out for slipping up, if they
recommit to sobriety.

A couple of Recovery House residents admit they have been worried that
living in the dorm will stigmatize them. "It seemed like I'd be
wearing a target on my back," says Nick. "I didn't want everyone to
know." He has solved the problem by telling only his trusted friends
where he lives and saying to others that he shares a house off campus
with friends. None of the undergrad residents felt comfortable enough
to disclose a last name for publication, but Nick, Andy and their new
housemates seem grateful to have a refuge from the keg parties and the
bar hopping that define much of undergraduate social life. They all
agree with the maxims that recovery is accomplished one day at a time
and that it's easier to do it together than alone.