SEEKING SANCTUARY AT FRY HOUSE

Stv (pronounced Stevie) smirks when she thinks about the 'half-assed
morals' she had when she used to sell drugs.

"I wouldn't sell to anyone who couldn't grow a beard. In other words,
no kids," she says. "I knew what I was doing was wrong, but I tried to
make it better at the same time. I wouldn't sell to people who didn't
have food in the fridge for their kids. I always gave to charities;
gave blood; donated money; helped out the street kids. I didn't make
much money in the long run because I gave it all away."

It's a life that seems so distant, now that Stv is married (her
husband, Rod, is currently at the Beaver Creek Institution), holds
down a full-time job, regularly attends Narcotics Anonymous meetings
and is about to move into her own apartment.

She is staying at Joyce Kope House (Elizabeth Fry Society of Simcoe
County) as part of her sentencing conditions.

"I'm working so hard on my correctional plan, my release plan," she
explains. "I'm getting my life in order."

Being a drug dealer certainly wasn't the life she had planned for
herself. As a young girl growing up in Sarnia in the 1960s and '70s,
she says her parents worked hard and provided a good, loving home for
her and her sister. But even as a toddler, she had the itch to explore
life on her own terms. When she was three years old, Stv jumped on her
tricycle and travelled across the city to visit her grandmother. Her
mother knew then that she would be a runner.

When she was 13, Stv says she wanted to experience life and began to
leave home for months at a time, working with a travelling carnival;
singing in a band; stripping; and eventually selling drugs to survive.

"I was up in Kingston. I got into dancing (stripping) early, but when
I was dancing I didn't get into any trouble," she says. "I met my
daughter's father and we were together for seven years. He sold drugs
and I danced."

He was arrested and, on the day he began his jail time, she found out
she was pregnant.

They broke up less than a year after he was released, and she found
herself as a single mom. She was able to provide a decent life for her
and her daughter working as a stripper, until a knee injury left her
unable to perform. "All I knew to do other than dance was to sell
drugs," she says.

Her chosen path came with a lot of bumps and wrong turns. Besides
being illegal, Stv became addicted to drugs and was often in extreme
danger.

"It was pathetic. I've had people try to rob me; people try to hurt me
because they wanted my drugs or they wanted my money. I've had knives
to my throat, guns to my head, and I'd manage to talk my way out of
situations like that and laugh about them."

It was trafficking drugs that landed her in jail for the first time in
1989 and since then, she has been in and out of correctional and
treatment facilities.

Although shocking to some, Stv's story isn't the most harrowing of
tales at Joyce Kope House, the 27-bed emergency shelter and halfway
house for sentenced women operated by the Elizabeth Fry Society of
Simcoe County.

Single women escaping abuse; those living outside or in vehicles; and
women prostituting themselves in order to pay bills and buy food are
part of the mix who stay at the shelter, formerly known as Maple House.

Ranging in age from 16 to late 80s, many experience mental illness and
all are welcome.

Referrals come from throughout Simcoe County and from as far away as
British Columbia, and include mental health facilities, treatment
centres, detoxification centres, correctional facilities, social
service agencies, probation and parole services, other shelters, and
from the women themselves who show up at the door.

The average stay for homeless women is 60 days, but it's not a number
that's carved in stone, says Paula King, executive director of The
Elizabeth Fry Society of Simcoe County.

"The theory is it's 60 days, but you know what? You can't get anything
together in 60 days. Sometimes, it's more like 90."

During that time, the women must work on their issues - whether it be
addiction, mental health, unemployment or all of the above - and look
for a place to live. It's not an easy task in Barrie where the vacancy
rate is less than one per cent, and what is available is usually expensive.

Stv is just completing a six-month stay at E. Fry and says this time
everything is different. She has taken training and is gainfully
employed; she is devoted to being a good wife and mother (her daughter
lives with her father); she is saving money; and while at Grand Valley
Institution she became involved with the Native Sisterhood and has
gone back to more traditional ways of healing and caring for herself.

With a lot of help from staff at Joyce Kope House, many women are
getting ahead with their life.

The expanded facility recently marked its grand opening.