Over the coming weeks, I will be posting short sections from my new book Transforming Pain Into Power: The Story of North Wales Recovery Communities. Here is a section from Chapter 4, Something had to Change: James Deakin, that illustrates one way that recovery ripples through our communities, and highlights how a recovery carrier can inspire someone else to go on and create an amazing recovery initiative.
‘8. Recovery Academy Conference Glasgow
By 2010, I was full of passion and enthusiasm, and was thinking about setting up a recovery group of my own, as I was so disillusioned with the treatment system. A pivotal moment occurred that year when I attended the first Recovery Academy conference in Glasgow. I was totally inspired by what I saw and heard. Two guys in particular helped crystallise in my mind what I wanted to do career-wise and set me on a journey of following my dream of building North Wales Recovery Communities (NWRC).
The first person was the late Rowdy Yates. I already knew that many people held Rowdy in high esteem for being involved, along with Dr. Eugenie Cheesmond, in the setting up of Lifeline, a widely praised Manchester-based charity working with people with substance use problems. He worked for Lifeline as a volunteer, paid worker, manager, and CEO. He was then involved in promoting the important role of therapeutic communities. Rowdy was a strong recovery advocate and is still greatly missed.
The person who had the biggest impact on me was Mark Gilman. ‘Mr Gilman’—he has reverential status for me—talked about Asset-Based Community Development (ABCD), and this was a massive light bulb moment for me. Mark worked for Lifeline for four years as Director of Research. He was later Strategic Recovery Lead for the National Treatment Agency (NTA), and then Public Health England, for a total of 14 years. He played a pivotal role in the development of recovery-related activities in the north-west of England and further afield.
I had always seen treatment services operating from a ‘weakness or deficits’ point of view: ‘What’s wrong with that person?’ And it was always: ‘You can’t do this. You can’t do that.’ The ABCD approach was focused on a person or a community’s assets and strengths. ‘Don’t focus on the stuff you can’t do in that community, focus on the skills and assets that you have in the community and build upon, and connect, them.’ Mark had his audience eating out his hand. I realised that the ABCD approach had to be the foundation of the recovery community I wanted to build.
The other thing I loved about Mark Gilman was the fact that he was an ordinary guy, but full of street smarts—desperately needed in places like Manchester—and he possessed plenty of character and enthusiasm. He also had a great sense of humour. All the other people giving talks that day were strait-laced academics and doctors. Seeing Mark at this conference, and listening to what he had to say, made me realise that you don’t have to be an academic or doctor to make a difference in the field. I could contribute something meaningful. This realisation was very important to me, as I needed to know that I could make things happen rather than just be a ‘passenger’ in the field. Mark was a powerful recovery carrier. [1]
Things got even better on the way home. Soon after we left Glasgow on a train, I walked through the next carriage to visit the toilet. And there was Mark Gilman sitting all on his own. I charged back to the group I was travelling with, which included Wulf Livingston, and told them what I had seen. We got up straight away and joined Mark. What a trip!
That train journey probably saved us three or four years of work in developing the recovery community in North Wales. We pumped Mark dry, asking question after question, and he responded with so much helpful information and advice. He emphasised to us that recovery was an organic experience, not something that could be commissioned through treatment services. He stressed the importance of building strong bridges between treatment services and mutual aid.
Instead of trying to build all things for all people, treatment services should concentrate on doing what they do best. Being a set of stabilisers, getting people clean and sober, giving them a detox and offering them counselling. Once they are clean and sober, treatment services should pass on their ‘clients’ to people in recovery who will help them on their onward recovery journey. Treatment services help people get off drugs, whilst the hard stuff of helping people keep off drugs is done in the community by peers and the person’s family and friends.
There is an often-cited phrase from those still doing alcohol or other drugs, or those in recovery: ‘It is easier to get off than it is to stay off.’’
[1] William White describes recovery carriers as people, usually in recovery, who make recovery infectious to those around them by their openness about their recovery experiences, their quality of life and character, and the compassion for and service to people still suffering from alcohol and other drug problems.
James Deakin is one of the people we have had conversations with for our Recovery Voices website. You can read more about him and see links to films of these conversations: Part 1, Part2, and Part 3.