But unfortunately, it isn’t.  Over the past few years, we as treatment professionals have heard this scenario all too often. At Phoenix House, we’ve seen a sharp rise in adolescent heroin use. Three years ago, we treated teens who primarily used pot, alcohol, PCP, or Ecstasy; almost none were addicted to heroin. Today, heroin is the drug of choice for 50 percent of our young clients, many who are just 13 to 15 years old. 

This is evidence of a troubling trend across the nation.  Although heroin use in general has declined or leveled off in many areas, the rate of heroin use among teens has increased dramatically—especially in the suburbs.  And they’re not the kids you’d expect.  They’re kids like Natalie Ciappa of Long Island, an honor student, cheerleader, and star of school plays. In 2008, days before graduation, her parents found her dead from a heroin overdose. That year, Natalie was one of 46 people in Nassau County to die as a result of heroin use, a 75 percent increase from the year before.

What’s scary is that often, the progression to heroin takes place over a short period, sometimes as little as six months.  Kids typically start with pills they find in their parents’ medicine cabinets. Some participate in “pharm parties,” where each person tosses prescription drugs they’ve found into a bowl and party-goers help themselves.  Some begin “doctor-shopping” or buying drugs online. At some point, teens realize that it’s easier, cheaper, and faster to get a $5- to $10-bag of heroin than $40 to $75 Oxycodone.  Many start by snorting heroin and then, chasing a more intense high, they begin injecting.

This short window makes it difficult to recognize the problem before it becomes a life-changing addiction. And kids who are hooked on heroin don’t always look or act the way you’d think a drug-addicted teen would. It’s not uncommon for teens to continue doing well in school and keep up with extra-curricular activities. That’s why—even for the most involved, responsible parent—a child’s addiction may not be apparent until the tell-tale track marks appear.

When this happens, parents must recognize two hard-to-swallow truths about their teen’s substance abuse: They didn’t cause it and they can’t cure it.  What they can do is to support their child’s recovery in every way possible—starting with getting them into a comprehensive treatment program.  Sadly, this isn’t always easy.  In many cases, families must pay out of pocket or the teen must be involved with the criminal justice system in order to receive treatment.  This has led some parents—like Kelly B. whose son Kevin is now in treatment at our Long Island Academy and who recently appeared on Geraldo At Large —to turn their kids over to the authorities in order to get them help.

While we can’t fix the system, we can ensure that the kids we treat get the care they need while they’re with us.  Our adolescent programs, which offer educational services, collaborative services with criminal justice, and provide support to families and siblings, are not fully covered by government grants.  On Long Island, an area that has been hard-hit by the heroin epidemic, a considerable portion of our operating costs is covered by individual donations. That’s why, each year, we host our summer party—to honor these kids and their recovery and to raise funds so that our programs can continue to help them get their lives back on track.  I hope you’ll join us in supporting these young people who deserve a second chance.

Deni Carise, Ph.D.
Chief Clinical Officer, Phoenix House
Adjunct Clinical Professor, University of Pennsylvania
Senior Scientist, Treatment Research Institute 

**Click here to learn more about our summer party in the Hamptons on June 26, benefiting our Long Island programs.

It was a story I knew all too well.

2,698 days have passed since I received the call—the one that all parents fear most. As I listened, shocked beyond belief, I can truly say that time stood still. It was the hospital—or to be more specific, the coroner’s office:

“We’re sorry to inform you, Ma’am, but your daughter has been found deceased in her apartment,” they said in a cold, detached tone, almost like they were giving me a weather report.

I remember little about the next few days; surrounded by family and friends, I said an impossible goodbye to Misty, who, like Alicia, was only 19. I had so many questions and no real explanation.

Five months later, a brown envelope arrived with my daughter’s toxicology/autopsy report. As I read all 54 pages, sick inside knowing what they had to do to her body to get these answers, the words “GHB/Oxycodine” were written as the cause of death. I remember thinking, “What?!?”

With an IQ of 142, Misty had started college at the age of fifteen. She was a brilliant, funny, and determined young woman who seemed destined for success. A middle class mother of four, I was entirely naïve about teenage substance abuse and never imagined that my child could get into drugs. How could this have happened?

So, my quest began. I enrolled in school and am now an LCDC Intern and a prevention specialist. 7 years 4 months and 19 days later, I now understand that there are many faces of addiction; even “good kids” who have been brought up with every advantage—like my daughter and the children of Centreville—are not immune.

Recently, I became the coordinator of Phoenix House’s Roots of Change Coalition in Texas. I now work with men and women who have faced similar tragedies as a result of their children’s substance abuse; these individuals have helped me through my grieving process. Together, we strive to educate other parents about teen addiction and to change our communities. I know that this is what Misty would have wanted me to do. Looking back, I realize that if I had been armed with the prevention strategies I now share with others, I might have saved her.

Some of the applications are simple, but often ignored, like keeping alcohol from being accessible to teens and locking up prescription medications. But one of the most effective ways to help prevent teenage alcohol and drug use is eating together at the dinner table. Between Misty’s schoolwork, her part time job, and her involvement with the Monterey Bay oceanography club, we often grabbed dinner on the go or ate at different times. Now, with my youngest still at home, we make it a priority to sit down together—even when our schedules are jam-packed. Sharing a family meal has been statistically shown to help communication, strengthen commitments, and provide an opportunity for open dialogue—all of which reduce the likelihood of substance abuse in children.

So, this Thanksgiving, look around your house, check your wine and medicine cabinets—and, as you pass your kids the mashed potatoes and gravy, remind yourself that family mealtime shouldn’t be a special occasion, but a daily habit.

Think of it as life insurance.

On my first visit to Phoenix Academy twelve years ago, I remember the school’s secretary laughing after I asked what kind of private school it was. I wasn’t familiar with the program and, with its pleasant entrance and unusually peaceful atmosphere, it didn’t look or sound anything like the large public schools where I’d taught in the past.

We started playing a guessing game, until she finally explained that the school served students who were recovering from drug and alcohol addiction. It wasn’t a private school, she told me, but they were fully accredited and the class sizes were small—a maximum 17-to-1 student-to-teacher ratio. Wow, I thought, this would be a challenge.

When I came back for an interview and tour, the principal assured me that teaching at Phoenix Academy would be a rewarding career with the at-risk school population in Los Angeles County. What I really got was the opportunity to re-charge my teaching career, change some attitudes about education, and make positive contributions to the communities, families, and students I serve.

Every year, several of my students ask, “Why do you want to teach drug addicts, anyway?” My response is not simple and sometimes causes me to get a big lump in my throat. I teach at Phoenix Academy because I believe I am part of an organization that offers at-risk youth the second chance they so desperately need to get their lives back on track. I am constantly reminded that the challenges I faced growing up in a small town in North Dakota in the 60s and 70s pale in comparison to what my students face every day. The family difficulties, pressure from peers, and access to illicit and dangerous drugs require them to develop a strong character, resilience, and a positive support system to survive.

Despite these struggles, I’ve learned at Phoenix Academy that every student has the potential to accomplish something great and worthwhile—and my job is to help them find it. As I tell my students, “You may feel like everyone else in your life has given up on you, but I’m not going to give up on you.” To convince them that I was really serious, when I first started, I learned the Phoenix House philosophy—words that they must recite at least twice a day—and delivered it in front of my class. One of the kids got up and presented me with a dollar bill, which I’ve kept to this day. That token of their faith in me—along with the letters I’ve received from former students and their parents—are the fruits of my labor.

Through the years, I’ve witnessed the transformative power of an effective drug-treatment program—in combination with a supportive and responsive education program. Just as traditional approaches to education do not work with every student, not all drug treatment programs work with every client. But the therapeutic community concepts of taking responsibility for your actions, being held accountable, working as a team, and showing concern for others are successful techniques in helping my students live sober and productive lives.

Watching a student make better choices, problem solve, and rise to the challenge instead of running away from adversity is powerful and inspires me to look forward to each day on the Phoenix House campus.

Now, whenever a new student asks me why I do what I do, I think of the following quote from Rep. G.K. Butterfield (D-North Carolina):

“A second chance means an opportunity to turn a life around—a chance to break the grip of drugs…[A second chance] is the humane thing to do.  It is the responsible thing to do. It is the right thing to do.”