Several years ago on Facebook…
“Stop,” my sponsor would say, holding up her hand like a Supreme. “Don’t come at me with any resentments about what’s happening on Facebook. It's your choice to be on that platform and you can easily avoid whatever issue you are about to tell me by NOT getting on Facebook.” She is right, of course, but she’s also not here, so…
Several years ago, a Facebook friend posted a complaint about CNN’s coverage of the Democratic convention. Martin J. Walsh, the current mayor of Boston, was speaking, and the ticker at the bottom of the broadcast said, “Marty Walsh has been sober since 1995.”
Walsh is open about his recovery from alcoholism and often spoke about it on the campaign trail. In fact, it was a reason some people voted for him. (See “In Race for Boston Mayor, Former Addicts Back Candidate With a Past,” The New York Times, October 29, 2013)
Here’s what the Facebook friend posted:
“Watching Dem convention and this ‘highlight’ comes up as mayor of Boston is talking. I guess it was either this or ‘Walsh hasn't kicked his dog since 1998.’”
Do you see why I was perturbed by his comment?
The poster—who is a good guy, by the way—was saying that alcoholism is the same as or equal to kicking dogs1.
Alcoholism is a disease. Kicking your dog is a depraved act.
I commented on the post, which is never a good idea, but I wanted him to know why it was wrong to equate a disease with a moral failing. But I don’t think I explained my point clearly, as he never changed his comment.
Let’s fast-forward to earlier this month when my family and I were watching a movie with our family friends. Deciding on what to watch among nine people is never easy (remember way back when, when we’d spend hours in the video store?!), so we devised a system where each person put a movie in the hat, and whatever title picked was the ONE. No exceptions! “Win Win” was the movie drawn out of the hat.
“Win Win” is a 2011 sports drama in which a struggling lawyer, played by Paul Giamatti, gets into some trouble when he falsely represents a situation with his elderly client. It is a sweet movie with some funny scenes. It takes place (and was filmed) in New Jersey, and the director went a little over the top with the Jersey accents and attitudes.
In the movie, a teenage boy shows up in Paul Giamatti’s life. The boy runs away when his mother goes to rehab and leaves him in the care of her boyfriend. The movie demonizes the teenage boy’s mother. Specifically, Paul Giamatti’s wife Jackie, played by Amy Ryan (aka Holly from “The Office”), constantly threatens to beat up the mother. (The movie exaggerates Jackie’s “jersey-ness,” even giving her a Jon Bon Jovi tattoo.)
Jackie: I wanna go to Ohio and beat the crap out of his mom.
Mike (Paul Giamatti) : Okay, come on.
Jackie: No, I do. I want to beat the crap out of her and her stupid boyfriend.
When Jackie would go on like this, I would say to my fellow movie watchers on the couch, “But the mother suffers from addiction.” and “She didn’t abandon her son. She went to rehab to get better.” However, the group did not share my views. They agreed with Jersey Jackie that the mother was a derelict. By the way, Paul Giamatti did some shitty stuff as well.
Spoilers ahead:
When the mother, played by Melanie Lynskey of “Yellow Jackets” fame (I told you this is a very Jersey movie), gets out of rehab in Ohio, she comes to NJ and attempts to get her son back. But the son does not want to go home with her and even physically attacks her. In the end, she opts to return home and let Paul Giamatti care for her son. Her recovery network was in Ohio, she said. It sounded like a valid point to me, but again, my fellow movie watchers tsk tsked at her decision, assuming she was leaving her son to use drugs. I saw her decision as an extremely difficult one for a mother to make. She sacrificed her own needs because she knew that leaving him behind was best for her son.
I enjoyed the movie, but when it was over, I felt despondent due to the disconnect between my views of addiction and my fellow movie watchers. I lay in bed and thought: Why couldn’t they see that the mother was trying to get sober? That the mother needed help not getting the crap beat out of her. I’m an alcoholic. I have the same disease as the movie mother, who suffers from addiction. Is that what they think of me?
Last week, my sober friend Mariel Hufnagel wore a t-shirt that sported this quote: “People who use drugs do not deserve to die.” - Jesse Harvey.
“Yessss,” I said to Mariel.
“I love that,” said another sober friend.
Jessey Harvey, I’ve learned, was a prominent recovery activist in Maine who distributed clean syringes, fentanyl test strips, and doses of naloxone from the back of his hatchback, even though it was illegal.
Mariel elaborated:
“Addiction is a disease — that’s not an opinion, it’s a fact. But because of the legitimate harms a person with addiction or alcoholism causes, there is a stigma with these afflictions and sufferers are treated with disdain instead of compassion. Society’s approach is often centered in the antiquated idea that punitive measures are required, criminalizing addiction instead of medicalizing it. People who misuse alcohol and drugs deserve love and compassion (as do all people), as well as access to harm reduction services, social services, and rehabilitative services. When someone dies from addiction, it is almost always because they didn’t have access to these things.”
Thank you, Mariel, for saying that so well. Mariel is an activist devoted to social, racial, economic, and environmental justice and I always feel enlightened after listening to her talk about such things.
Addiction and alcoholism are not moral failings. Here’s why I feel strongly about this issue.
My brother William died at age 21 in a drunk driving accident as a result of his alcoholism. My sister Julia died by suicide at age 29 as a result of her mental illness. Are their deaths somehow less tragic, less sad because of the way they died? Did they deserve to die? I spent so many years unable to grieve properly because of the shame I felt over the circumstances of their death.
I shouldn’t feel ashamed. My sibling’s deaths were not moral failings. They suffered from a disease.
One last thing: two years ago, I was visiting my aunt and cousin in Florida. We were sitting outside enjoying the warm weather when a steady stream of … let’s say sketchy looking folks walked and/or biked by. They had tattoos and long hair and looked a little rough around the edges.
“Every Sunday, there’s some sort of homeless convention in the park,” said my aunt. I almost spit out my coffee in amusement.
Waving at the group with a smile, I said, “I’m guessing those people are going to an AA (Alcoholics Anonymous) or NA (Narcotics Anonymous) meeting. “Those,” I said proudly, “those are my people.”
Everyone hates a dog kicker, except maybe for South Dakota Governor Kristi Noem.
Great writing, as usual. I leave your substack with an open mind and softer heart!
A very compelling piece - and kudos to you for the courage to share both your personal story and your well-reasoned thinking about it all.