Day Seventeen

A picture of something that has made a huge impact on my life recently:

I was nearing my fourth sober anniversary, and thinking about the changes I'd made in my life - mostly, about my career direction.  I'd been an addiction treatment counselor for over a year at that point, and was about to receive my certification as Specialist in Alcohol and Drug Studies.  I wanted to do something for my high-school community, and since I had no money to give I went to offer my time - I had it in mind to craft and deliver a substance-abuse prevention lecture.

I went to the headmaster, who was also my teacher for Psychology and Religion classes, as well as my academic advisor - we were tight, and it was about time for our annual pilgrimage to Fatburger in any case.  Jim had seen me through all the years of my addiction and into my sobriety; he's one of my biggest cheerleaders.  It's always been gratifying to know such a brilliant and kind man thinks I can do anything, and I wanted to repay him for that support.  I asked him if I could give the lecture; he gave me this nonplussed look, and said something I'd never heard from him before: "No, you can't."  He went on: "We've been using this great organization for a long time now!  Hold on, I have the name here..."

"Jim, I haven't been gone 'a long time,' and there was definitely no substance-abuse prevention when I was here, so..."

"Ah, here's the website, www.FCD.org - they've been coming here for seven years.  David, your ten-year reunion is in two weeks.  That's a long time."

So, though I didn't appreciate the reminder of how long it'd truly been, I wrote down the website and looked them up after lunch.  I sent them an email on a lark, just mentioning who I was and what I did, where I came from, and that I'd been looking to get into prevention.  What followed was the most prolonged interview process I've ever dealt with (not that I'm all that experienced in this area) - it ended during a two-week training session in Boston, at the end of which they finally offered me employment.  Twelve hours after I got home from Mass, I was in another plane on my way to Qatar for the first time.  Beijing and Hanoi followed on that trip.

I've seen amazing places; I work with incredibly gifted people; and I've discovered I have a deep affection and empathy for adolescents and their struggle with self-definition.  I've also discovered I'm good at this - my natural gifts, finite and diverse, all contribute to this single area.

A student asked me, after I finished singing for them (I don't always, but when they ask, I deliver), why I wasn't a professional singer.  I gave two of the many answers to that question: "One, I'm passionate about singing, and I'd like to keep it that way.  Two, there are many people in the world qualified to sing professionally, and perhaps I am among them.  But there are only a few people qualified to do what I'm doing with you all - and I know I'm one of them.  This is more important."

They applauded.  I was in L.A., so I'm still not sure if that was sarcastic or not - but I suspect it wasn't.  It also wasn't necessary; my reward for my work is the dopaminergic surge I get when I watch the light come on in a teen's eyes as she reconsiders her perspective on substance abuse and addiction.  It's in the happiness I feel knowing I'm doing something meaningful, something concrete to make the world a healthier place.

It's in my paycheck.  I can't say enough about the paycheck.  (And you like how I slipped in the plug, right?  You know you do.)