Samatha Smith and her husband, Billy Pack, along with their best friend, Roger Armer, stayed with the two-year drug court program that is an alternative to prison for non-violent drug offenders.
Smith, who lives in Vian, is now working for the drug court program, and is planning a life of counseling. Smith actually completed the program in November, two weeks after she began working for the program, but she didn't participate in the graduation ceremony until Monday.
Smith and Pack are the first couple to graduate from the drug court program, which began in Sequoyah County five years ago.
"We all got busted together, and we all graduated together," Smith said. "We're friends to the end, or to the beginning...whatever you want to call it."
A new beginning is just what the trio got when they were accepted into the drug court program. Facing prison time for manufacturing methamphetamine, Smith said her attorney, Bill Dodson of Sallisaw, suggested the program.
If it wasn't for drug court, Smith said she would be in prison.
At the beginning, she said her husband wasn't going to be allowed in the program because of his history and drug background, but Mike Wright, drug court administrator, convinced the judge and attorneys that treating the couple together would lead to success. The couple had to then fight a little longer to get their friend, Armer, in the program, but eventually succeeded.
Smith wasn't born into a life of drugs. She said she had good parents and a good family. She said she just began associating with the wrong crowd.
Now 32, Smith recalls that her drug addiction began at age 16.
"It was chaotic before (drug court)," Smith said of her life. "It was a mess before. It was awful."
The partying stopped for some of her friends as they got older, but it continued for Smith.
"There wasn't an end for me...the addiction was there," Smith said.
Smith began drinking, went on to marijuana, and eventually began methamphetamine. From 21 to 30 she did meth, and it wasn't occasional usage. "It was hard and heavy," she said.
Smith said she thought her drug use was a secret, something only she knew about and kept hidden, but everyone knew, she now realizes.
She said when a person is that far into addiction, they can't hear. She said her favorite expression before drug court was that she was only hurting herself. But that wasn't true. She has a 14-year-old son, an 8-year-old daughter, and a 1-year-old son. "He's my sober baby," she says of her youngest.
She was four months pregnant when she entered the drug court program, and her oldest son, who was 12, was there when they were arrested.
Smith said she realized as she went through drug court that she was hurting everyone around her with her drug use. She said there were times when she wasn't there for her oldest son, and she said she would leave for days at a time to cook methamphetamine. She said it was a miracle she didn't have him taken away. Although she has straightened up her life, her daughter continues to live with her grandmother in Fort Smith, Ark. Smith said although she is sober, it's not fair to disrupt her daughter's life.
"There are people in drug court every day who lose their children," Smith said. "That didn't happen to me fortunately."
Smith said drug court is where to start for those who are ready to stop the downward spiral of their lives.
Smith takes a phrase from Alex Borowski, executive director and counselor of FOCUS, which is the drug court treatment provider, that drug court is not for people who need it, but for people who want it.
As a requirement of the program, she and Pack attended 90 Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) or Narcotics Anonymous (NA) meetings in 90 days.
Even after completing the program in November, Smith said she still attends between three and five meetings a week. She said the meetings allow people to share their experiences, strength and hope with each other.
Smith said the key for her has been staying with the recovering community and attending church.
"You have to totally change," Smith said. Those changes have to be made in every aspect of a recovering addict's life, including thoughts, people, and places.
"My sobriety is number one to me," Smith said.
In the summer, Smith will attend college at Carl Albert State College in Sallisaw.
"I'm 32 and I'm just starting my life," Smith said.
Smith never thought she would do anything with her life - her only focus was drugs. But those thoughts have changed. She is now an administrative assistant and has her sights set higher. She wants to help others.
"God put me here," Smith said.
Smith's faith is part of what keeps her on the right track. Smith said she went to jail and got saved.
"My sobriety and spirituality go hand in hand," Smith said.
The attitude of her family and friends who have seen the change in Smith is disbelief.
Smith said she was completely closed off from the whole world except the drug world. She is now reconnecting with family who she says she "conned for a lot of years."
Smith said she doesn't feel she has to prove herself, but lives her life through her actions, and her family is accepting her.
Smith said it's the little things that earn trust.
"If you say you're going to be there, you be there," she said. "It's the little things I didn't do before."
Smith said she never thought about her future before. She said when she was involved in drugs, she was always waiting for the door to be busted in by police, but she never thought about what would happen next. When she was arrested, reality set in and she wondered who was going to raise the baby she was carrying.
"I had one mind - where and when is the next high," Smith said. "Right now I see so much possibility for myself and everyone who comes in here. Drug court is working....Drug court was the light at the end of the tunnel."
She said she doesn't really remember a time before drugs. She said her life is foggy - even now after two years. Smith said drugs steal time, memories, and people from lives.
"It's sad really," Smith said. "But now I see a future, that's what counts."
Smith's optimism, exuberance, and inspiration can be seen and felt upon meeting Smith. She realizes her purpose, and wants to help others overcome their addiction.
"If what I went through could help one person, it was worth it," Smith said. "I know I went through it for a reason. God put me here to help others."
Drug court is the last chance. She believes it is imperative for those who go through the program to use everything they can from the program. "Use the tools that you put in your tool belt" is one of many affirmations in drug court.
"I'll be saying these cliches until I die," Smith said with a laugh, and repeats another one. "If I'm not the problem, there is no solution."
Smith said she feels better every day, but she knows that she will always be a recovering addict. Before drug court, she never realized she used drugs to not deal with what was going on in her life. Now she faces those problems head-on.
"It was headed toward prison, and drug court saved me and my family," Smith said.
Borowski runs the FOCUS program - an acronym for family, opportunity, community, unity, and strength, providing outpatient behavioral and mental health services. Drug court is a service FOCUS provides.
Borowski said drug court has been successful across the country. The program provides a structured environment, treatment, and counseling.
Borowski said bringing together different components provides a better chance at success. Those in the program not only have a legal obligation they have to meet, which may involve fines, court costs and restitution, but they have therapy and counseling sessions that are required.
He said in order to get into drug court, a person has to plead guilty to the charges and receive a prison sentence.
"Drug court is a condition for having that sentence suspended," Borowski said.
If participants violate the rules, sentences could be reinstated and offenders automatically incarcerated. Borowski said that condition is the leverage part of the program. Borowski noted that it takes $25,000 a year to imprison someone, while it takes only $2,000 a year per person for drug court.
There are not only legal obligations to the program. Borowski listed the treatment requirements. The first 90 days are intense, with 90 NA or AA meetings in 90 days, along with other group sessions and counseling sessions. They are also required to see the judge every two weeks, and provide urine samples any time on demand. If a person gets a "dirty" urinalysis or skips a meeting, they can face a five-day sanction in the county jail.
"They have no rights in drug court," Borowski said.
He said the program is a holistic approach, instilling values, morality, and things that go into making a healthy person.
Other requirements include getting a job in the first 30 days, getting their General Education Diploma or high school diploma, and their driver's license.
He said drug court wants to get them involved in the community and contributing to the community.
"These people can't walk away," Borowski said. He said he hopes they understand and take with them what they are trying to teach them.
