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THROUGH MY EYES - II
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Dedication
To Brookings/Harbor students who have
been injured, abused, violated or have
died in drug related incidents.

Preface

Anonymous 1
Anonymous 2
Michele Banta
Anonymous 3
Anonymous 4
Brooke Blofsky
Anonymous 5
Olivia Buscho
Anonymous 6
Steven Dornbusch
Anonymous 7
Juan Garcia
Anonymous 8
Justin Konkel
Anonymous 9
Kaitlin Lawrence
Anonymous 10
Christopher Neighbor
Anonymous 11
Sophia Alena Soberon
Anonymous 12
Anonymous 13
Ellen Stadelman
Anonymous 14
Anonymous 15

Acknowledgments

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Anonymous
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I have encountered people my age taking drugs, listened to songs about drugs, and even seen tee-shirts with drug symbols. Drugs are everywhere today, but I actually haven’t had much of an issue with them. Once or twice I have been offered drugs, and the only drug I’ve actually seen was marijuana one time.

I suppose the reason I have evaded drugs was because of my school life. I get good grades, I’m ASB President, and I’m involved in sports. Consequently, I hang out with people from within those social clicks, and they tend to not be “druggies”. I’m surrounded by kids who are free of drugs and therefore, I have a better chance of staying that way as well.

I think the reason people begin to use drugs is because they underestimate their own willpower. They may think, “One time won’t make me addicted”, and so they try it once. They then think the same about the second time. Once leads to twice leads to 10 times, and then they’re addicted.

I enjoy life too much to risk it with drugs. There are so many alternative “highs” to experience that are legal and safe. This may be performing on stage, playing a sport, or even skydiving (well, skydiving might not be the safest). Whatever activity makes people feel great, I suggest that they stick with that, rather than become addicted to a drug and make that the focus of their entire life.

I am extremely glad that I am not influenced by drugs. I have witnessed first-hand of how people have ruined their lives because of drug use. Whether it be dropping out of school, getting pregnant or making someone pregnant, or just constantly having to face the addiction, drugs have destroyed many lives.

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Anonymous
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Like those salesmen always calling and knocking at your door, drugs are a problem that never goes away. And as much as we’d all like to slam the door in its face once and for all, it just keeps coming back. According to the National Department of Human Services, 3.1 million people in the United States used marijuana daily or on an almost daily basis in the year 2006. In just this past month alone, 5.1 million people used this drug on at least 20 days. While drugs might be an issue that affects you personally or just something you hear about in the news, there is no denying that it is an ever-increasing issue.

Here on the west coast, problems are even greater than in other regions of the United States. The state of Oregon is one of the largest producers of marijuana in the United States, and also one of the states with the highest number of methamphetamine labs and users. The city of Portland is one of the highest ranked in the U.S. for the number of drug-related crimes. Most of the problem however, lies close to home - in the youth of America.

Everyday when I walk through the hallways of my high school, I see the ugly consequences that drugs have had on my peers. Many of them have parents or friends that use drugs on a regular basis. Some of them know people who are serving time in jail because of illegal drug use. The part that makes me grieve the most is when I see the students- my peers and friends - who I know are battling drug addictions at this very moment. A survey conducted by the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration states that more than 10.8% of teens aged 12-17 had used illicit drugs in the past month. However, it goes on to say that 74% of youth ages 16-17 are somewhat to strongly disapproving of peers who use marijuana. I myself am one of those 74%.

In one of my classes last year, we were assigned a project to be done with a partner. Initially, I was annoyed when I saw who my partner was going to be- a boy known to everyone in out school as a “stoner” and a bad student. It was with reluctance that I spoke to him for the first time. However, as time went on and I began to get to know him, I soon discovered that he was actually quite friendly and intelligent-not the personality most of us expect a chronic drug user to have. We became good acquaintances, though we never spoke about his drug use. When school ended we both went our separate ways and it wasn’t until several weeks later when I saw him again. Halfway through our conversation, he mentioned to me that he had gotten a job and had stopped smoking entirely. I have to admit that initially I was a bit skeptical, but when I reflected on our conversation later I realized that he had no reason to lie to me about it, since we had never discussed it before. It has been over a year since that occasion. He now has my utmost respect because I know that this was an extremely difficult choice for him to make, and I am proud of him for having the determination to stick to it.

I don’t think that there is a single person in America who can say that they have not seen the negative effect of drugs on either themselves personally or someone they know. Drugs affect all of us, whether we choose to use them or not. That is why it is important that we all become part of the effort to increase awareness and stop drug use in our society.

The efforts being made have already had some positive results- the 2006 National Survey on Drug Use and Health says that with the increase in the awareness of the risk of marijuana use, the number of lifetime, past year, and past month marijuana users among teens aged 12 to 17 has decreased in the last four years. This does, however, still leave millions of people clutched in the vile grasp of drug addiction. Though in the end it all comes down to personal choice, we can still do everything within our power to help insure that when that decision is made, the right option is chosen.

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Michele Banta
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 "Today a 16 year old boy died from a drug over dose. Officials say that his mother found him early this morning on the living room couch. Services will be held later this week at..." I couldn't read anymore of the article, it was just too sad. What could push this teenager and others like him to do drugs? He had to be the umpteenth kid to have accidentally died from drugs in Curry County. This was becoming a major problem that couldn't be ignored anymore.

I wasn't the only one to have noticed the growing situation. My leadership teacher at Brookings-Harbor High, Mrs. Kleespies, approached me and four other students in our leadership class about this program the Curry County Commission on Children & Families was going to sponsor. The only thing Mrs. Kleespies knew about it was that it was going to be focused on drug and alcohol prevention in teens. All of the students she asked to do it agreed to go and see what would come of it.

A few weeks later we headed up to Curry County Commission on Children & Families in Gold Beach. When we walked through the door, all of us found out quickly that it just wasn't Brookings here but teens from Gold Beach and Port Orford. Still unsure of what was happening, all fifteen of us, five students from each school, and our chaperones sat down to learn why all of us had come together.

Myrna Barber, Chair of the Drug Free Coalition (a working part of the Curry County Commission on Children & Families), stood up in front and began to explain. "You have been chosen to be part of a new youth program we are trying to put together. The whole point of it will be to prevent drugs and alcohol from destroying our youth. We needed experts on teenagers and their many different thinking processes. The best experts on teens are...well...teens. You can mold it to what ever you find most effective. So, do you think you can help improve Curry County's youth?"

After agreeing to help, we worked the rest of that meeting on coming up with our name, logo and goals. Our names is Southern Oregon Coast Youth Leaders, SOCYL for short. Our logo is a ring using all of our mascots and school colors. Our goals include: raise drug and alcohol awareness within Curry County's youth, allow the teen voice regarding anti-drug use be heard, to prevent youth from beginning harmful habits, to help make youth make good choices, to be able to communicate to the parents about the affects of drugs on youth, and to work with adults to change community norms throughout Curry County.

It has been three years since that first meeting and we have accomplished many things. We have done radio spots, created an interactive game called Life 101 and skits to present to fifth graders in Brookings, Gold Beach and Port Orford. We have, also, put on a successful tri-school dance and presented at a National Conference in Washington, D.C. where we can meet other students from around the country with the same problem as ourselves. On top of that, SOCYL has many other projects in progress.

Many students and adults have come together through SOCYL all because of the drug issue in Curry County. This year being my last year as a SOCYL member and one of the original, who helped built it, I hope that more than just the fifteen who created it will come together and fix this problem that ravages our communities, kids and adults alike. That eventually we will no longer need a program, like SOCYL, to teach prevention but that everyone will no longer have to teach drug prevention. Margaret Mead once said, "Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed it is the only that that ever has."

 

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Anonymous
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Drugs are the better part of my motivation to get the hell out of my home town. This year I am the first to go to college and honestly, I'm quite surprised due to the exposure that I have had on drugs. My older sister was supposed to go and be the first to do something with her life but succumbed to the life of methamphetamines and marijuana. She is better now but she still hasn't overcome the damage it has done to her life. This is just another example of why I will not do drugs and is why I am going to get a life worth living because I refuse to fall to a life of drugs and decay. I have watched friends change and become entirely different. It hurts me to see how bad drugs can affect a person’s life. It is not just the person taking the drugs who get affected but the people who care about them as well. I know drugs are out there and I refuse to allow myself to get mixed in with that crowd of misfits. I will overcome and prove that I can be better than that. Drugs are bad.

 

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Anonymous
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My mom and I are very open and honest with each other. For a long time we were all we had. So naturally I know a lot about her and her past and she knows about my present.

My mom grew up in a family ruled by addictions. Everything from stealing to meth to pain killers was an addiction in our family. It was the 70's and my grandparents and my aunts and uncles and their friends would all smoke pot together. The only reason my mom never smoked pot is because she is allergic.

Alcoholism is big on both sides of my family. My mom had her own short episode of alcoholism when she and my biological father were going threw their divorce. She called it being a closet drunk because she would literally drink in the closet so that my brother and I wouldn't see her and think it was okay.

When my mom was a young adult she used to do speed. She decided that the life she was living wasn't worth it and she wanted to make something of herself. So she got clean, changed her surroundings, and got together with my father.

Then one day she found out she was pregnant. She hoped, and wished, and prayer that nothing would be wrong with her baby. 9 moths and 27 1/2 hours of labor later this baby was born. 7lbs even, a perfectly round head, and 19 3/4 inches long. 1/4 inch away from being the perfect baby. Of coarse this baby was me.

I could never ask for a better mom. We have out differences and what parent-child relationship doesn't. My mommy raised me to be the person I am today. I'm a senior, I'm very close to having strait A's, I'm in an anti-drug coalition for Curry County and its youth, and I'm an A.S.B. officer. I plan on going to collect, starting a career, and starting my own family. I know what is right for me and what's wrong. I don't let other people influence my life unless I trust them. I trust my mom. I'm proud of my mom. I'm honored to say I'm drug free. I respect myself and my decisions.

If you or someone you know is using, please get help or get them help. You could save a life.

 

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Brooke Blofsky
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 When I first started writing this essay I wasn't quite sure how I was going to write an essay that was all about drugs, mostly because I really haven't had any experience with drugs. Then I started to really think about what drugs have done to influence other people in my life, this is when I started to get an idea of how much drugs really did effect my life.

I used to have a way of dating guys who had problems. I believe I did this because I felt like I could help them in some way. Josh, my ex boyfriend was addicted to crystal meth I didn't know this until we had been dating for a couple of months. Josh lived in Crescent City, so I wasn't always around to notice everything that was going on. One night we were handing out at a mutual friends house, and Josh was acting really weird. We sat down and had a talk and that was when he came clean and told me about everything he was involved in. I was so shocked but for some reason I couldn't just break up with him. Josh kept asking me to help him, so I thought I could. He then broke into a gas station with some friends, and was sent to a boys home in Gasquet. This home is a rehabilitation center with all boys up to the age of 18 with similar problems. At this point Josh was promising to be clear from then on out, but this is where it started getting worse.

This cycle of getting out and then getting back in kept repeating. He would be clear for a month, then relapse and snd up back at the boys home. Finally he got sentenced for a year and I finally got the nerve to break it off, even though I still wrote him every couple weeks. Then when he had a month left the letters stopped coming from him. I received a letter from Josh about a month after he had gotten out. He was reaching out for help again because he was using. I never replied to the letter.

One day in Fred Meyer I was with my Aunt, who lost her husband to drug abuse. We ended up running into Josh and his old friends. Josh looked really skinny and looked like he had been awake for days on end. It was a very strange situation because my Aunt's husband was named Josh as well. We both had been through the same deal of losing people we cared about to drugs. My Aunt knew that Josh and I had dated and ended up looking me in the eyes and asking me if I wanted to end up like her. She had two beautiful children, but the children had no father figure. I walked up to Josh and hugged him, told him goodbye and walked away. He thought that I meant goodbye for the moment, but I meant it forever. I haven't heard from Josh since then. I have seen him once but he was so out of it, I'm sure he didn't even realize it was me.

This story might not sound like one filled with emotion, heartbreak, or even that of a bad experience but that is because it's so deep I can't show how I feel. Drugs have ruined some of the best people in my life. Some great friends, not just Josh. What breaks my heart is that this is happening to so many people my age. Now instead a guy I once called by boyfriend, I am watching people I have known for years turn down the wrong road. If you take anything from this little essay on drug use and extremes of life, take the fact that there are some people who you can actually help. It might just be listening to someone's problems, or talking to someone that no one else gives the time of day to. But if you ever come across someone in need of help, please don't just walk past. At least try so you don't end up asking yourself if there was a chance. Because in life, there is nothing but choices. I hope you choose well.

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Anonymous
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 “Hey Mom, where is the… Oh, never mind. I’ll ask you later.”

Why did I stop you ask? Well, it’s because my stepfather is sitting in his chair smoking his marijuana. My stepfather has something called PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome), and apparently the only way to deal with it is to smoke medical marijuana. I understand that he needs to smoke it occasionally, but lately it seems every time I try to go into their room to ask my Mom a question or to spend some time with her, there he is puffing away.

At first it didn’t bother me because he hid it pretty well. But now he doesn’t try to hide it at all. He used to only smoke it like twice a day. Now it’s up to 6-7 times or more. His smoking marijuana has affected my relationship with my Mom in a bad way. I never spend any time with her anymore since she is always in her room, and I won’t go in there when my step dad is smoking.

Another thing that bothers me about the marijuana situation is the smell. My Mom and step dad have to walk through my room to get to the rest of the house, so they leave their door open most of the time. My stepfather, being the lazy bum that he is, doesn’t close their door or turn on my fan when he smokes. So when I go to bed at night, I have to smell the marijuana since the scent has saturated my bedding and pillows. I hate going over to my Mom’s house now because of my step dad and his marijuana.

At least I only have to deal with this environment every other weekend, and during the summer. I live with my Dad the rest of the time and it’s always a relief when I come back to a nice, marijuana smoke free home.

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Olivia Buscho
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Scientists and psychologists have hundreds of explanations for why drugs are abused: Depression, genetic makeup, life’s pressures, or maybe just the desire to “get high”. Maybe it’s a combination of everything. But I believe drug abuse is a direct result of fear, the fear of failure, fear of pain, fear of being you. Or even sadder, drug abuse comes from the fear of knowing yourself.

Let’s say my theory is correct and low self-esteem and fear drives the insecure and frightened to use drugs. Who would be the most susceptible to these conditions? Teenagers of course! We don’t even know who we are yet, but we are on the brink of independence, trying to figure out all of life’s tricks while deciding what we want to do with ourselves after high school. Naturally, some insecurity arises.

What better way to avoid getting to know yourself, numb the uncertainty and avert your eyes from the future than to get stoned when the going gets tough. It’s a cop-out. How scared of yourself are you that you have to alter your mind to live with it?

Of course this isn’t the case with all drug users, but being an insecure high school girl myself, it doesn’t seem like that insane of a theory. It’s true, I am insecure, but I also love myself. I love my mind, crazy thoughts and all. I prefer it unaltered with drugs. I believe if you mess with your mind enough your heart will get messed with too. Eventually priorities change and whoever you were or were trying to be gets lost along the way. So please, don’t be afraid to be you. Be afraid to lose you. Find the courage to face that big scary world; I expect you will be pleasantly surprised.

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Anonymous
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Do we have a drug problem in Curry County? A huge poster in the break-room at my work says we do. In the center, a large, black-and-white picture of a decaying meth addict peers at you from underneath red, bold-type numbers, telling you who to call to fix the “problem”. I stare at it from time to time, in the seconds between busing tables and answering phones. Personally, I can’t think of anything I’d want to look at less – mainly because it’s so disgusting. But also because…it’s not very encouraging to know that the real drug problem isn’t in my high school. The drug problem is in the parents, the adults -- the people who are supposed to telling us to “Just Say No!”. We are not the drug problem, community. You are.

There are some exceptions, but most the kids in our high school know that meth is stupid at this point. I congratulate the community for this success. Perhaps in 20 years we won’t have a meth problem anymore. But I have a better idea. We should start making everyone in the community take Mrs. Fulton’s Freshman Health class, and then the people who are doing meth will stop, thus making every teenager’s life suck a little less. I’m with the majority of students who would gladly sign a binding contract stating I will never, ever do meth, EVER, just so I won’t have to sit through another one of those videos again.

But not everything is about meth. Long before I was born, my dad had a huge drug problem. Nearly every kid in my high school can say that. We are the children of the children of the 70’s. Our parents were the ones who lit up every Friday and thought nothing of it. And 75% of them won’t admit that they made any horrible decisions while influenced --- either because they’re too proud, or nothing really bad happened at all. Now, what are we supposed to make of that? “Kids, don’t do drugs, because I did it when I was your age….and I’m told its really really bad for you ….” Really? Sounds a little too much like “Don’t put your hand in the cookie jar.” And we all know how that one turns out.

The funniest part of all of this is that many of us still know how to say “no”. I say it’s funny because I don’t think I was really taught how to say no by anyone. I could not begin to tell you the number of my friends who have smoked pot -- It’s everywhere in this town. But that being said, they have never asked or tempted me to join them. I’d like to think this is because they respect me: they know my beliefs and that I am not going to do drugs. And truthfully, I don’t think that it really makes me look any less cool in their eyes. Maybe I just have amazing friends. But people talk about peer pressure these days as if it’s some unbeatable force victimizing children left and right. It’s not. It’s just an excuse we give to kids who are too lazy to stand up for themselves: “Just say no, kids, but if you don’t want to, we understand, because then you won’t look cool, and we know that’s important.”

What’s the solution to the drug problem? Stop sending mixed messages! Actions speak louder than words, and most of us have heard enough empty anti-drug words that we now instinctively tune it out. You want us to stop doing drugs, community? You want us to “Just Say No”, to “D.A.R.E”? We, the teens of Brookings, have only one thing to say to that: You first.

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Steven Dornbusch
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 Information on the reason what I have on drugs.

1. How drugs affected my life almost changed me 5 years ago. That is until I found what drugs are life. It was positive to know from Mrs. Caviness & I'm not taking it to the next level, thank you very much.

2. If I wanted to experience drugs my mind would say no, but my mouth would say gross & the only way I would really say no is right in their face. I would also try to help other people who are affected by it get away from it sometimes. But the only way I would avoid it, is to walk away from it.

3. 1 time there was a friend named Sandy Sheres who was affected by drugs and she tried everything to avoid them. But I came up with a plan to help her, all I did was to ask try to stay away from them, not even tough or think about them & it worked...for a while that is.

4. Very bad ideas like say: you could get by your parents or sent to jail, but for all I know. It's a bad thing.

5. It's quite easy for me to avoid them, when it's around me somewhere. The people who because affected by them become stupid & don't think straight. But when it's around me trying to talk to me...I do just 1 thing...ignore it.

6. I was 13 years old when I thought of trying it, but when I knew what it would really do to me. So I just collected the information I wanted about drugs and decided to stay away of it.

 

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Anonymous
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I have seen the effects they cause, from prison to adoption. From suicidal thoughts to running away. There are no words to express the hurt and suffering I have witnessed drugs produce. I haven’t personally experienced any of this, but I have watched enough of it to know that drugs are a huge problem in our town and in Oregon in general.

Most of my friends have been abandoned due to their parents’ addiction to drugs. Two have been adopted, and a few others have moved in with their grandparents because their parents (or parent, in most cases) couldn’t support them anymore. There are so many lasting effects, and so many past problems that they have to ignore because my friends just want to move forward with their lives.

Could you imagine your parents basically telling you that you are the second most important thing to them? Their first priority being some kind of illicit drug. And not only that, but then being asked to lie for them and pretend like everything is okay. In one situation, about four years ago, my friend (lets call him John) ran away because he was getting beat because of the mind games the drugs were playing on his mother. When the cops found John they told him if he ran away again he would be put in Juvenile hall, and didn’t even bother to listen to the horrid things that had caused him to leave his house. It’s not only the citizens that are in denial about the problems teenagers face , it’s the authorities too.

We need to take a stand and listen to what the people who have been most affected have to say. I am not one of them, but I am trying to help tell their stories. Trying to help others in their situations. Drugs are out of control in this town, county, and state. What amazes me the most about drugs, is how they can bring people to do things that otherwise, they would never do. To give up on your own flesh and blood all because of a substance that takes over your mind and soul seems inconceivable.

My friends are strong and are actually trying to mend the scars and problems that their birth parents have caused. In my opinion they are smarter and more compassionate because of the things they have been through, but they are also more sensitive to certain things. Drugs haven’t ruined their lives because they choose to succeed. Unfortunately, I can’t say as much for their parents.

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Juan Garcia
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I would have to say that drugs have affected my life in a positive way. I have never used any sort of drugs or illegal substances. Personally I always thought of myself of being narcissistic, feeling that I was too good for drugs. I was almost to the point of being pretentious. I always thought that, and I still think that I have too much to loose by using drugs.

I course I know people who use drugs; I bet that everyone in this school knows at least of couple of student who use drugs. Since I get along with almost everybody at this school, I have some good friends who smoke pot. But when they boast about using drugs I always reprove or deprecate them for using drugs. Peer pressure hasn’t been a problem for me. I always tell them that I have too much to loose by using drug.

I know I have been a positive influence in my family. I know that a have had a positive influence over my cousins. I am viewed as a role model for them and the fact that I am drug-free has influenced them to also becoming drug-free.

I don’t get why people use drugs, they have a detrimental effect on your health. Why would anyone take that risk? I know people whose lives have been destroyed by drugs. The fact is that drugs are a problem in our schools and in our community. We need to have a strict coherent policy that has harsher punishments. Personally, I think people who use drugs have nothing to loose.

I have always been viewed as a role model in my family and in the community and by being drug-free I intend to keep it that way.

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Anonymous
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My aunt’s childhood was hard and short. When she was one year old her parents broke up and she stayed with her mother. Her mother eventually remarried, but her new stepfather never accepted her as his own. He was cruel to her, and believed that she was inferior to his “real” children. Her mother did not want to cause problems, and therefore did not intervene and defend her. They lived in a bad neighborhood, where drugs and violence was common. Her neighbors, uncles, and stepfather participated in selling drugs, and she was constantly surrounded by its bad influence. Because of this my aunt chose to spend a lot of her childhood with her grandparents, where she was loved and taken care of, but even then she was forced to grow up too early.

When my aunt was only twelve her stepfather kicked her out of her house. She had no one nearby that she could go to for help, and she ended up living on the streets. She remembers this time as being the darkest of her life. She had no one to take care of her and provide food and other necessities. She began selling drugs, and gradually became addicted. She knew that it was wrong, but could not think of another option to support herself.

She eventually knew that she could not keep her same lifestyle, and needed a way out. Even in her youth she greatly valued education, and kept going to school so that she could have a chance for a better life. When she was fourteen she went to the police, who she had seen lecturing at her school to not take drugs, and to go to them if they needed help. However, they did not take her seriously, and she was rejected. She did not want to go back home, and consequently went to live with a friend. While she was there a drug bust occurred, and her friend was found guilty. Even though my aunt was not involved in it she too was sent to juvenile hall. The authorities called her mother to see what she wanted done with her, but her mother claimed not to know her. After twelve months my aunt was let out and went to live with her real father. When some time had passed she returned to her mother, who by then had moved to Brookings.

It was around this time that my aunt met my uncle, and first came into my life. She felt accepted in our large and close family, with all my grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. She was reminded of her happier past with her grandparents, and realized that she had a chance for a better life. My aunt and uncle were very young then, but soon got married. I was only about seven, and therefore was oblivious to the hardships that she had gone through. All I knew was that she was my new aunt, and that she was kind and cool. She would always put on her best face for others, and appeared to be happy and self-confident. Under the surface, however, she continued to struggle with her past. For a couple years she was able to lead a clean life, an incredible feat against her addiction, but it did not last.

My aunt’s second child was born with a lot of health problems. He was not fully developed and often had difficulty breathing. The medical expenses really built up, and they did not qualify for state aid to cover them. My aunt got desperate and decided to sell drugs in secret, until they could get back on their feet. She thought that if she did not take drugs herself, and did not let it influence her children, all would be fine.

In addition to selling drugs my aunt was working two jobs, and consequently was very tired. One day she decided to take just a little meth to have some energy, but it took only that little to get addicted again. She began taking more and more, and her life went in a downward spiral. Her marriage fell apart, she began neglecting her duties as a mother, and she was not there in her right mentality. One day she came home from work to find that my uncle had left her, taking their children with him. She was soon arrested and taken to jail, and then found out that she was pregnant. She was scared for her baby, knowing that she had been taking meth just a month before, and decided to become clean again.

It was around this time that my aunt met my uncle, and first came into my life. She felt accepted in our large and close family, with all my grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. She was reminded of her happier past with her grandparents, and realized that she had a chance for a better life. My aunt and uncle were very young then, but soon got married. I was only about seven, and therefore was oblivious to the hardships that she had gone through. All I knew was that she was my new aunt, and that she was kind and cool. She would always put on her best face for others, and appeared to be happy and self-confident. Under the surface, however, she continued to struggle with her past. For a couple years she was able to lead a clean life, an incredible feat against her addiction, but it did not last.

My aunt’s second child was born with a lot of health problems. He was not fully developed and often had difficulty breathing. The medical expenses really built up, and they did not qualify for state aid to cover them. My aunt got desperate and decided to sell drugs in secret, until they could get back on their feet. She thought that if she did not take drugs herself, and did not let it influence her children, all would be fine.

In addition to selling drugs my aunt was working two jobs, and consequently was very tired. One day she decided to take just a little meth to have some energy, but it took only that little to get addicted again. She began taking more and more, and her life went in a downward spiral. Her marriage fell apart, she began neglecting her duties as a mother, and she was not there in her right mentality. One day she came home from work to find that my uncle had left her, taking their children with him. She was soon arrested and taken to jail, and then found out that she was pregnant. She was scared for her baby, knowing that she had been taking meth just a month before, and decided to become clean again.

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Justin Konkel
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 Drugs, alcohol,. sex, sinning. What a thrill to be alive, isn't it? To take everything without question and live your life behind those little tiny dilated pupils. But, what happens when you pop one pill too many, or you inhale more than you can hold down, or you take the final gulp to correspond your final fall? I've seen a generation of pop culture go down into the gutter, I've had friends around me die. My life has been drastically impacted by the drug-filled atmosphere I live in.

When you hear the word "drug" used in a derogatory manner, we usually make a quick jump to meth, or to heroine. But the fact of the matter is that, people abuse every sort of drug. Nyquil, from experience, is a very good stimulant. When taken it will drag your body and mind down to a state, but if you add caffeine, or another energy stimulant (such as Vitamin B), you will spring back up physically. This feeling of euphoria borders the condition "sleep deprivation psychosis" and gives you the feeling of being in the dream world, while still being awake. As it sounds, it is very dangerous; imagine yourself in one of those ever-famous "falling" dreams because you jumped off a bridge into the water. Well, with the psychosis affecting your judgment, you might just take that leap.

The point above is, that drugs are too easily accessible for this generation to not try them once. Most kids won't admit to it, but I'm confident they've been high or been pressured to get high at least once. Our culture is constantly making it easier and easier to know where to find and how to use drugs and alcohol. Everyone has a "hook-up" for whatever they need. Thanatos is raging among the youth, and it only seems we want to kill ourselves quicker and quicker.

I am not against drugs. In fact, I support them in full. Up until now I've seemed the typical Christian youth, but in reality I think everything should be legalized. Marijuana, coke, speed, meth and everything in between, so that we could let the Darwinistic philosophy carry out. Survival of the fittest would rid us of our hindrances and lead us into a better, cleaner tomorrow. Laissez-Faire; let the people do as they do. If they do decide to pop pills, or shoot up, let them. But also let them feel the other side that isn't what they glorify in movies, or in songs. Hopefully, they can learn from their mistakes and rise up to succeed. But if they don't, we definitely can.

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Anonymous
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Last Christmas I was nearly murdered by my best friend.

At that time last year, my friend James was battling a severe psychological addiction to marijuana. I knew about it, but I did the worst thing a friend could possibly do – I ignored it. No matter what I saw, I would look the other way. If he walked in a room reeking of pot, I would simply leave. I trusted my best friend. I never thought it was anything serious.

It finally came to the point where it couldn’t be ignored anymore. Last Christmas Eve, shortly after a late holiday party, James asked me if I was ready to go home. He was stoned, and we both knew it, but the house had been empty of people for a long time. I had to get home – my parents were asleep and expecting me – so I hesitantly accepted his offer for a ride. The house where the party took place was six miles away.

The inside of his car was warm, and the music from his stereo soft. Even I, sober as I was, felt slightly sleepy in the passenger seat as we pulled out of the driveway. We zigzagged lazily down the empty winter road, and James reached over and turned the stereo up to its maximum volume. The sudden noise jolted me from my stupor and I watched the road nervously for hazards. The loud music hurt my ears.

We were still four miles from my house; that was when things started to seriously go wrong.

A scream broke the night air; a split second later I realized that it was my own. A deer had darted from the surrounding woods, right into the path of James’ car, and he was completely oblivious to it. Without a thought I grabbed the wheel and jerked us into the other lane, out of the animal’s way. Finally taking notice, James swore loudly and over-corrected the vehicle’s path, nearly running us off the road on the other side.

My shrieks of fear quickly turned into those of anger. “James, pull over – PULL OVER!”

He pulled into a turnout three miles from my house and cut the engine. He was no longer laughing. “What?” he asked. “We’re not dead, are we?”

“No, but –”

I was stopped mid-sentence by the worst sound I could possibly hear: a police siren. A glance in one of the mirrors at the approaching red and blue lights confirmed it.

With skid marks on the road and an inebriated man in the drivers’ seat, I was officially in panic-mode. My heart was pounding, and I couldn’t breathe as it got to be two-hundred, one hundred fifty, one hundred yards away. The car was going to stop, we were going to be arrested, and my life was going to be over, all because of the worthless, life-wrecking marijuana.

But the patrol car wasn’t slowing down. If anything, it was gaining speed, and I watched with wide, horrified eyes as it closed the gap and passed us by. The cops undoubtedly had more pressing matters to deal with that night. Amazingly, unbelievably, we were safe and in the clear.

I let out a breath I had no idea I’d been holding. I was exhausted, I was scared, and I didn’t know what to do. I could only stare at James and the dazed expression on his face, and doing so brought tears to my eyes as I fought for the courage to finally speak my mind. This had to stop.

“James,” I let out in a whisper. “James, what are you doing to yourself?” I was pleading for his life and my own, like a desperate, frightened animal. I didn’t know what else I could do.

For the first time that evening, something about James expression broke. He let go of the steering wheel and put his face in his hands. He was crying.

“Jesus,” he moaned. “I don’t know. I’m sorry… I’m so sorry!”

He leaned over and hugged me for the first time in months, clinging to me so tightly that my neck and shoulders ached. He smelled horrible, and his eyes were teary and bloodshot, but I could see that the James I had missed so much was still in there, and he needed my support more than anything else in the world right then. The rehab, support groups, and cleansing would come later, but at that moment all he needed was the love of a friend.

We drove the last three miles to my house in complete silence. When I got out of the car I asked him if he was going to be all right, and he told me yes. He’s been all right for the past nine months now – he hasn’t touched a joint since that night.

Drugs are a problem which cannot afford to be ignored. I chose to be a true friend and give his problem the attention it deserved, and because of that we’re both here today, alive and well. So many addicts are ignored or written down as worthless criminals, but society forgets that those people are friends, spouses, children, and parents, too. With a little care and attention, a life full of potential should never have to be thrown away.

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Kaitlin Lawrence
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It’s a beautiful sunny day in a small coastal town once dependent on its logging and fishing industry. The birds are singing, the waves are sparkling, and young children are out riding their bikes around town. To any stranger passing through, this little city called Brookings looks like an ideal place to start a family, but behind the scenes there is a sub-culture blissfully unnoticed to many. This underground cess pool is threatening to one day poison what most people would consider an extremely safe environment. This threat is none other than the illegal drug industry.

Similar to the onslaught of marijuana that came from Mexico into Oregon during the 1960’s-1970’s, a new drug is rearing its ugly head across the borders; most commonly being referred to as meth. Methamphetamine, which triggers a release of euphoria and extreme bliss is the most common drug found in Oregon today. It, along with heroin, has been the cause of thousands of broken families, criminal activity, and deaths. Oregon is not the only state fighting a battle against drugs. It is a nationwide problem that is not only affecting young adults but also children. An innumerable amount of cases have been reported of young mothers taking drugs during and after their pregnancies. Their children that are born into this world come into it as addicts. When their babies are going through withdrawal, they will give them their drug of choice either through smoking it in their presence or applying the substance to the child’s gums.

It is not only the threat of a drug business that Brookings’ citizens should be aware of but also of the increasing crime rate. In 2003, there were 41 drug convictions in Brookings. That number is growing exponentially. In Salem, last year’s statistics showed that meth alone contributed to more than 70% of crime in the state of Oregon. These numbers are staggering, but the situation will only get better if we open our eyes and stop believing that what we can’t see won’t hurt us.

As citizens of Brookings, we all enjoy the benefits that this town brings us. I have lived here my entire life and never thought twice about walking into town by myself or keeping the door unlocked while I’m home alone, but those days of security are over.

We must all be aware of the drug threat that is looming over us and take action. It is not enough to know about the problem, we must also do something about it. The police department has made great strides in this war against drugs. We, as citizens, can help by reporting any drug activity we are aware of, educating our children about the dangers of drugs and about what to do if they are ever presented with the opportunity to use drugs, and not ignoring the obvious. I am proud of where I live and I believe the majority of Brookings’ citizens are as well. The school district has adopted a revised set of standards based around three simple words, “Pride, Honor, and Respect”. I believe that motto should be extended to not just the schools but also to the entire town. If we have “Pride, Honor and Respect” for where we live, things can only get better.

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Anonymous
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Drugs have taken away arguably the most important person in a child’s life. Drugs have taken away my mother. And the three years that she was a part of my life definitely couldn’t be defined as happy times. It’s a hard concept for a six year old to grasp that it’s more important to get high than it is to be taken to kindergarten on time

My grandparents had me until I was three years old, and then my mother finally fought her way through the court systems and back into my life. She moved me up to Portland, expecting a second chance to be a good mother, because when I was born she proved to be incapable of taking care of me. Dismayed as my grandparents were, they had no choice but to let me go. Driving away from their house on top of the hill all I remember thinking is whether or not my kitten Gizmo would be all right without me. She ran away two days later.

The warm welcome that I got upon entrance to the apartment in Gresham was a good screaming about how horrible it was that I still drank from a bottle. My bottle was taken from me and thrown down the stairs. That was the day that I started drinking from a cup. My brother living with us should have been a good thing, but he was around eleven and thought that it was funny to pick on his little sister. So on a daily basis I was reminded that I had a lisp and couldn’t pronounce the word three correctly. He and his friend John would leave me by myself, even while my mom was out getting high. Making food for myself became a necessity at age four.

My mother lost her job, and all of her money was being pumped into her addiction, so we were kicked out of the apartment. Around this time her ex-boyfriend came back into the picture. He was violent and controlling, but my mother thought that she needed him. He lived with us in all of our future, rather unique, residences. The Peach was a motel that we lived in for quite some time. There were other children living there, and I was able to go out and play with them. On one such occasion, my brother’s father drove up in his giant red truck and told him to get in. He couldn’t take me because he was not my father, so I was left alone in the dirty parking lot to fend for myself. When my mother discovered that her son was gone, it didn’t effect her much because she was high, but later I got in trouble because I didn’t stop him from leaving.

When the motel expenses got to be too much to handle, we were forced onto the streets. For awhile the front porch of an abandoned house across from the Goodwill became our home. This was not a coincidence, being as we stole from the Goodwill. Whenever the workers would leave the Goodwill delivery truck open, we would sprint across the highway and take whatever we could hold. I was commended for stealing shoes and crayons.

Of all that occurred in those three years, one memory stands out above the rest. During another of my mother’s drug binges, we ended up in a gigantic empty warehouse. This warehouse was in one of the shadier parts of the city, so it was a testament to my mother’s addiction that she even brought me along. Apparently she thought it was safer to bring me rather than leave me on the porch by myself. Upon entrance of the building, I was told to go into a room on the left. I was given the instructions to sit and be quiet. So that’s where I sat, all night. As it got darker I picked a spot on the wall and stared at it. This was an attempt to not get scared. As a five year old I learned the measure of my determination.

I believe that she wanted to stop, but the addiction had such a strong hold on her that she just couldn’t. Thankfully my grandparents regained custody of me when I was six, and I have lived with them in Brookings ever since. I have just recently started building a relationship with my mother, and it is off to a good start. I actually think that my childhood is a big part of who I am today. I have this desire to succeed that I cannot begin to explain, and I know that I owe it to that determined little five year old that I once was.

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Christopher Neighbor
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Why is it Still Here?

One of the worst drugs available on the market right now is sold in clean white packages wrapped in shiny plastic. You don’t have to go very far to find it just head on over to your nearest super market or local gas station. I’m talking about cigarettes.

As a twelve year old I had one of my most memorable experiences with cigarettes. My dad and I had gone camping and fishing at a local reservoir. While there I met this one man who was very nice and showed me his special techniques for catching catfish. Then he pulled out a cigarette, and as he was lighting it, he told me to never start smoking because once you try it you won’t be able to quit. This was burned into my brain in another instance by the owner of my very first lawn mowing jobs. He had lost a lung to his many years of smoking. He also warned me of the addictive and destructive qualities of smoking.

But how exactly does smoking cause such a strong addiction? The answer lies in the presence of nicotine. At low levels it can cause the brain to release excess amounts of dopamine and other neurotransmitters in the brain. Dopamine has been linked with creating feelings of love and pleasure, and when the brain receives outside stimuli for its production, the brain reduces its own production while also increasing the number of receptors. This causes great withdrawals when people attempt to quit. The effects can last from three months to a year after one has stopped smoking. This is why with any drug one must never even try it one time.

A severe detrimental attribute of cigarettes is that they contain high levels of carcinogenic substances. One of these substances is benzopryene, which is formed in the burning of the cigarette. The oxidation of the benzopryene produces an epoxide, which in turn covalently bonds with the DNA distorting it and increasing the possibility of cancer. This distortion is carried in the DNA for the rest of that person’s life and may be passed on to the next generation increasing their chance of cancer. Cigarettes also release carbon monoxide, which causes the blood stream to be unable to carry oxygen to the brain causing cellular suffocation.

Despite all these adverse qualities of cigarettes why are they still allowed? There is no easy answer to this. It may be because of tradition in our heritage. Or it could be the taxes and funds our government receives from big tobacco companies. Or it could just be the lack of knowledge and apathy of our society. That is why we must raise the awareness of the harmful aspects of cigarettes and other illicit drugs and what can be done to prevent and stop their use.

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Anonymous
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In our American culture there are many interesting double standards; however, none as intriguing as drug use. We are collectively disturbed and astonished by our meth epidemics and our nation’s children’s experimentation with drugs of any kinds. We are even up in arms about the ever growing use of medical marijuana; yet western medicine has conditioned us to be totally complacent with “popping pills”. We expect all problems to be immediately solved by 2 brightly colored capsules and a glass of water; and then, the next day we see a mass recall on whatever we were taking because it caused more problems than anyone had in the first place (unfortunately for us pharmaceutical companies have too much money to be troubled with things like conclusive long term studies) and we say nothing. The legality of many of these drugs should be called into question more often.

The dangers that Americans face day in and day out seem to be constantly growing. We turn to prescription drugs to help us cope with anxiety, depression, obesity, insomnia, and still we have all of these fears to face. For some these drugs are not enough so they turn to alcohol and illegal drugs to help them live in this “god-awful” world. This is the point where people decide that enough is enough and putting these nasty things in your body is terrible. The strange thing is that they always wait for the illegal drugs to come into play before they decide to actually stop themselves or the people they love from doing this while nearly every month you see a new recall on a prescription drug that has been linked to seizures or strokes, but no one cares if you start to take them. It seems to be somewhat of a skewed view of things.

Americans keeping quite about the problems with our pharmaceutical drug companies may seem odd to you, but who could really blame us? With out them none of us could ever get well. But then, more and more people begin to discover a medicine that they can grow themselves for a lot less money and that is extremely effective in dealing with a number of ailments such as: chronic physical pain, effects from AIDS (nausea, vomiting, and loss of appetite caused both by the ailment itself and by many AIDS medications), the effects of chemotherapy treatment, epileptic seizures, etc. We as a culture have too much of a problem with this to allow its use nationally, yet we still say nothing when hundreds of people die from the use of over priced pharmaceutical drugs. This is why pharmaceutical companies and prescription drugs have caused more trouble than they are worth.

So maybe next time when you see a commercial for a sleep aid or a hair growth pill that they’ve found to cause strokes and are recalling you can take a step back and ask yourself why so many drug companies refuse to take the time to fully research the long term effects of there products. Maybe the next time that comes for you to vote and decide for someone else, you might consider letting those who have terrible diseases use a medicine to help them manage there pain. I’m not saying that all prescription drugs are bad or that illegal drugs are good, I’m just hoping that you take the time to really examine all issues from every side before you chose your own perspective.

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Sophia Alena Soberon
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It’s all a fast paced process, everything before your eyes goes too fast that there is no conscience; they say it just happens that it’s something that moves through your body and feeling faster than aging could. The parties, the impulse, the desire, the pain, the risk, the danger and the moment you choose to risk your life. Just like that, and one day you might just be a hindrance to the world, another mistake and this could be your fate, it could have been mine.

There are no words and perfect introductions or teasers to grasp even your attention, nothing else but the reality of it. The constant danger of death looming over you daily and hourly. This is not a typical account of a girl who succumbed to drugs; this is about a girl who saw people around her die. If you saw me today, you might not think it, but behind my brown eyes, lie experiences that I would not want to traverse on again.

Since I live in a small town completely consumed by drug and alcohol abuse, I can say that drugs affected my life, and they did. They still are. Oregon has a life-threatening addictive issue at hand and it’s up to regular people like me to describe my hardships even when I’m not the first hand dealer.

I have been told by so many others before me that high school would be a different experience, with emphasis on this difference, I guess you could say that decisions would be harder to make. And this may all be well and true, yet I have noticed that even the more youthful generations have had to traverse these valleys, and I ask you, should these young ones have to make the same decisions that a young adult must evaluate?

My freshman year was the beginning of my development into the person I am today. My parents knew the kind of people I associated myself with, but not too often, did they remind me since I had the “will power” to take care of myself. That whole year I spent my time pretending to be someone I knew I never could be. I was better, in the sense that I was intelligent and passionate about my life. But I wanted to believe that smoking and pretending to get high was just a phase and a fun one at that.

That summer I spent time falling for a young man who in reality had no respect for me. He tried to take my virginity while he was drunk one day; the sky above me was spinning, the grass was newly painted with dew and I was frightened that I had just died, that I had just lost against myself. I pushed him off and he faltered out of fear, it’s ironic that he faltered since alcoholism truly is the escape from fear. I started to cry because thankfully nothing happened, I still had the one gift I always promised myself I would keep for a special time, I still found I was alive, but inside I was screaming since it was entirely my fault. I put myself at risk that day and with that, I openly gave myself to the sky above me; to the grace which had lifted me and embraced me.

The same summer, I stayed with my family in California for the next 2 months. My cousin was a very pivotal character in my life, since she influenced me to sneak away at late hours of the night to visit her friends. I found myself once again almost losing my life since among these friends was a sex offender. The details hereafter were too hard to describe and therefore I will “leave it to the gods.” Yet I will speculate that my cousin had had a very rough childhood, she had grown from infant to adult seeing things she should have never witnessed. Those horrors were of drugs, drinking, outrage, men, and divorce. Presently, I do not know how she is, but I do know that she is still a child in many ways, still crying for help, and still wanting unconditional love. The few remnants of her past she has, I am sure, become dependent on and it is just a matter of time before she realizes her own insignificance.

Through out my high school career, mostly in the first two, I had seen those close to me become an instrument of drug and alcohol abuse and now I guarantee that they all for the great majority of them have either left Brooking due to their traumatizing experiences, or continue to wallow in what we call the “false hope cycle.”

This cycle describes exactly how any kind of drug and alcohol abuse only produces a short-term hope that things still might yet be well, when in truth they are going in circles trying to escape a process that only gets faster that only conveys the sad truth that these young lives, the ones that all organizations such as EFL (education for life), S.T.A.R.Z , and other outreach missions in Oregon try to prevent. Life should be enjoyable and full of childish enthusiasm not a vast fissure in the youth of tomorrow, or a hustle to make end’s meat to keep a false hope alive.

If I didn’t have the family, belief, profound respect for myself through all of thick and thin, I can guarantee you, my reader that I would not be here today.

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Anonymous
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It was in the third grade where I first remember hearing the word "marijuana". I still recall the presentation that day: the warmly lit classroom was full of eight and nine-year-olds, some listening intently while others fidgeted around, already restless. I sat at the edge of the class, slouched in my seat and wondering if the teacher would yet again notice the open book hidden under my desk. Within a few minutes, however, I too was listening intently to the guest speaker. Her topic was the effects of drugs. Up until that point, all I had known in regards to drugs was "Just say no", a phrase with positive intentions, but one which left many of us in the dark as for what we were saying no to. As we listened curiously, the guest speaker proceeded to explain to us what drugs were, their effects, as well as descriptions and nicknames of some of the more common ones.

That night, I went home excited, eager to tell my dad what I had learned. He listened, far more seriously than I had expected, then told me, as if he could not emphasize enough, how dangerous marijuana was. I hadn't known how strongly he felt about the subject; it wasn't until years later when I learned that he had been close to someone with a drug addiction.

Years passed, and the novelty of the drug presentation soon turned into a tedious repetition. The information and style of the initial presentation was repeated until the topic became more of a dull joke than anything else. Among my classmates, and myself drugs would be spoken of humorously and we saw little danger in the topic. After all, the adults who warned us about them were just overreacting, right? Besides, it wasn't as if any of us were actually doing drugs-at least so I thought.

As I began my high school years, I realized my error. It started as I noticed that the people who hid behind the dumpsters and little alleyways smoking were now my peers. Some of the discussions changed from jokingly talking about "getting high" into serious conversations about getting wasted. Then, one day during class, a student behind me was caught chewing tobacco. I couldn't believe it at the time. Why would anyone, after being aware of the dangers of drugs, still choose to do them? Was it a desire to rebel against an authority figure? To show that they are in charge of their own lives, even if it means destroying themselves? The frequent excuse of peer pressure? I do not know the answer, but still find myself asking the question: Why?

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Anonymous
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Anabolic Steroids

The youth of our nation is exposed to all sorts of drug-related content. I believe the use of anabolic steroids by athletes is one of the major drug problems in the United States. Professional athletes/role models continue to use these drugs despite all the morbid side effects of which they are aware. Apparently being strong and good looking is better than life.

As far as I am concerned, using anabolic steroids for competition is cheating. It is not fair to those athletes who refuse to take steroids, who are then put at a disadvantage. It is also not fair to the kids who look up to these athletes. I remember how disappointed I was when I heard the beginning of the Barry Bonds controversy. My favorite baseball player is a cheater. Other kids might still look up to him and decide to try the drug out for themselves. Sporting leagues have banned the use of performance enhancing drugs to prevent this cheating, as well as preventing unnecessary health risks.

Performance enhancing drugs have few pros and many cons. The positive effects are increasing muscle mass which makes a person stronger, and reducing body fat. The negative effects of this drug are numerous. To get to the bloodstream the drug is chemically altered so it will avoid breakdown by the liver, which can cause liver damage. The left ventricle of the heart (muscle) can increase in size causing disruption in blood flow, which can lead to heart attack and death. Aggressive behavior has also been observed. There are many more side effects of anabolic steroid use.

Athletes should not be the only ones avoiding anabolic steroids. Not a single person should take this drug. Steroids should only be used for medical purposes. You should work out and build muscle naturally through hard work and diet.

In conclusion, anabolic steroids are an unnecessary health risk for everyone, not only athletes. Athletes who use them in competition are cheating as well as setting a poor example for the younger generation.

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Ellen Stadelman
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I look at the assignment sheet given me and shake my head. I’m supposed to write “ a nonfiction essay about the downside of someone’s involvement with drugs for October.” Call me crazy, but I can’t think of an “up-side” of substance abuse to write about. If I were to tell you about how someone I know, or I myself, got mixed up on the wrong side of drugs, it would have to be purely fictional. So I’m given some idea starters: 1. How have drugs affected my life? 2. Am I dealing with peer pressure to experience drugs? 3. How have I helped a friend stay drug-free or helped a friend to stop using drugs? 4. What do I know about the dangers of underage drug use? 5. How often do I see pro-drug content in movies, in songs, on clothes or elsewhere? 6. How old was I if and when I first tried an illicit drug? I can tell this is going to be difficult, when the idea starters turn out to be all duds. I run through them in my head. 1. Drugs haven’t directly affected my life. 2. I have never been approached with drugs, nor have any of my friends. 3. None of my friends has ever had a drug problem. 4. What does it matter how old you are when you do drugs? They hurt you just the same. 5. The movies I watch often times involve cigarettes and maybe a biochemical spider bite, but for the most part are drug free. 6. I’ve never tried any kind of drugs.

I read further on my assignment sheet and see: “The public doesn’t get to see the impact drugs have on our students from their perspective. It’s time to listen.” These kinds of assignments and health class are the two major places where drugs impact my life at school. What I see in the community are flyers, speeches, and protests all about the growing drug problems everywhere. I see, and hear commercials about fifteen year olds who tried meth and couldn’t get off it, asking teens not to follow their path. What I don’t see is people realizing that we don’t all follow that path. That our schools aren’t centralized around drugs, and that we can be trusted to make the right choices.

I’m not saying that there isn’t a drug problem, or that efforts to get rid of it should be stopped. I realize that I am probably one of the very few who has been so removed from any contact with drugs that it’s more an idea than a reality to me. What I am saying is that there are those of us who are doing what is deemed right, and good every day, and you can’t see us. How have drugs impacted my life? They’ve made me invisible.

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Anonymous
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Anyone who attends public school will be constantly susceptible to propaganda about drugs on both sides of the fence. You will get this information through various mediums including the school and the student body. I find incredibly important to learn everything you can on a subject before you take a particular stance or opinion on said subject.

When I was in grade school we had a speaker go before the class and tell us about drugs. Her speech could easily be summed up into “ If you ever do drugs you will progressively do worse and worse drugs until you die or you will go to jail for ever,”. Being in grade school I believed everything I heard and was grateful to be warned about these horrible thing.

Then along came middle school, which is statistically when most people try drugs for the first time. This was the first time in my life I had ever heard of drugs being referred to in a positive sense. You might say this was also my first encounter with peer pressure, but I was never encountered in a persuasive manner and told that I should partake in the consumption of illicit substances. The number one substance I would hear about was marijuana. The understanding that I was able to gist from its users was that it was benevolent because it grew from the earth and that it made you “high” which was an amazing thing that all human beings should experience and may end all war and human suffering.

By the time I went to high school I did my research on the issue and discovered that neither side was entirely correct. Marijuana is not the devil and neither is it god’s gift to man. I decided not to do it because of the chance of legal repercussions and because I was in high school plays and my school had drug testing for extra curricular activities. Overall it seemed like a waste of time and money. I also didn’t want any unnecessary vices in my life at this time. However, I came to this conclusion through educated reasoning. I didn’t stay away from it because the administration says that it was bad. And I definitely wasn’t about to do something just because my peers do it. I have learned that blind conformity can and often will only lead to the loss of your independence and that carefully studying subjects and comparing them to your own values and needs before making a decision or voicing an opinion is a very wise choice.

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Anonymous
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June 13, 2005, a 15 year old girl dies at the hands of methamphetamines. Cold and alone, she was found across the street from a church parking lot, hidden by the protection of an alleyway dumpster. Several needles were found strewn around her as if others carelessly ditched them quickly. This isn’t just looking through The Pilot and skimming the jail logs and noticing your gas attendant is going to court for possession. This isn’t another written pamphlet that warns you about “dangers of drugs” and why teens shouldn’t shoot up. This is bitter reality. This girl wasn’t just a statistic to me; she was my friend.

Angela lived a block away from my house in an old downtown Victorian that awed me every time I was invited over. Whenever the doorbell was pressed, a loud, majestic ringing would alert the inside, and a small, blond head would peek through the glass. Sometimes I would be jealous because her whole life seemed so easy; a ride to school, ballet lessons and a new Barbie doll whenever report cards came out. But time went by and I learned to deal with it.

In 7th grade, we were inseparable. I could go on about my grades and the school dances and the day that we planned to wear matching Harry Potter shirts on twin day, but all that really sounds mundane and pointless, now. However, a day that should be recognized is the day that she met Travis. He ruined her.

One Tuesday after school, when Angela came over to do homework, she mentioned her older sister, Caity. The night before, Caity invited her to one of her friend’s parties. Angela told me about how she needed to use the bathroom and Travis led her to find the nearest one. “He’s so cute,” she kept squealing. “Did you know that he’s a sophomore in high school?” Angela proceeded to tell me that she was meeting him in the high school parking lot tomorrow after school.

Week after week, I was bombarded with stories about how much older and sophisticated he was. How he drank wine from his parent’s refrigerator and they didn’t care and how his dad would give him a little pot when Travis ran an errand for him.

“Travis says that it’s completely harmless. All it does is calms you down for awhile. Really, I only tried it once and I didn’t even like it. I’m not going to do it again.” She carefully reassured me. Somehow, by the tone in her voice and the fascination in her eyes, I couldn’t believe her. I didn’t believe her, but I didn’t have the heart to tell her parents.

Though this was all about four years ago I remember police cars speeding past the middle school and seeing Travis escorted out of the building with cuffs on his wrists. Later, Angela informed me that he was caught with meth in his backpack and the cops were called. But she didn’t hesitate to pull a tiny, thin plastic bag out of her bra. A fine, white powder looked me straight in the face. I couldn’t believe it.

“ANGELA!” I screamed. Where did she get it? How did she use it? How long had she used it for? All these questions came spilling out of my mouth. My mind was racing with thoughts of her on the bathroom floor of Caitlyn’s room with a needle in her arm. Does she scream like they do in the movies? Why didn’t she have red spots on her face? What the hell was going on?!

Turns out, she’d used it three times before and she “could stop whenever she wanted to”. (I know that it sounds cliché and everyone hears it all the time, but the moment that you actually hear someone you love excuse them with it, you don’t know how powerful those words can really be.)

She could not stop. She just couldn’t.

One night, I walked into her room and heard crying. I looked behind her bed and in her closet, but I couldn’t see her. She was hiding underneath her desk crouched in a little ball, just itching and hysterically clawing at the wood. I didn’t breathe.

“They’re everywhere! Please, please stop it! Stop it! Get them off me!”

Angela was crying and pleading with me, but her eyes were blank; she didn’t see me. Her fingers found the hem of my jeans and she began to brush them and pick at them all the while trying to dig her nails into her neck.

“Angela, stop it! There’s nothing there!” I tried to reason. I didn’t know what was happening.

“I can’t sleep. I can’t sleep or else they’ll come. They sent all these bugs. There all here on my legs and… my arms and they want it. But he’s gone. I tried to tell them that he’s not here and I don’t have it. Please, get these bugs off me... STOP!!” she cried and scratched and tried to save me from these bugs as well. So I held her. I held her and rocked her and stroked her hair.

I did my best to get her to the front room and to get a phone in my hand. She was beginning to scream at me and punch my legs and arms and anything she could reach. She told me she’d never stop and it was the best thing that’d ever happened to her. And hour later, the police came and took her away from me.

That was a year ago and now she’s dead. They let her go back home after awhile under the supervision of her parents, but she got out somehow. No one knows who was with her or how she got out. But I know that there are a lot of teens saying that its okay and that they, too can “stop whenever”. It’s not true. Angela Maria Consuelo was my friend. She was another teen victim to drugs.

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