Coming Clean Interview by DONNA MCBRIDE

“Anne”, a woman overcoming drug addiction, talks about her experience, recovery and plans for a new life.
“People want someone to blame and famous people make it easy, people like Kate Moss, and Pete Doherty, influencing teenagers, but it’s bull, if you want to do it you’re going to do it. Every person in this world that uses drugs be it cigarettes, cannabis, cocaine, speed, alcohol, anything, they will do it because they choose to. But you can’t dabble. No. You always want it if you’ve tried it. You might think you can dabble – kid yourself – but you start to do it more and more, until its day and night. You’re always chasing that first high, and you’ll never get it.

“I wouldn’t say there is more information available about drugs, I’d say there’s more bullshit available about drugs. Nothing in those little books they hand out will actually tell you what it’s like. Is it written by someone that’s been through it? Tasted it? And as for kids, they aren’t interested in reading leaflets. When someone comes up and gives me a leaflet it goes in the bin. To get these kids you’d need a bad ass boy documentary film to show them what’s going on in this world.”
Volunteering in a centre for vulnerable females, I have had the privilege of meeting women with more sincerity that I’ve ever seen in people before. Each with remarkable stories, It has shown me what it means to have strength and belief in yourself, despite how the rest of the world may treat you.
Anne made the choice to break free from her debilitating addiction to crack cocaine four months ago. She is step by step reclaiming her life. This social justice edition of Holy Joe has provided an ideal space for Anne to speak of her experiences, voice the injustices she has faced and tell her story in her own words. Naturally, after all this talking, Anne had worked up an appetite so she was treated to a well-deserved pub lunch. Not having been out for a meal in two and a half years, Anne was delighted and full of gratitude.
Childhood….
“Growing up was good, I had a lot of fun, I’ve got a lot of good memories. I had a good mother and a good father.
“I met my boyfriend and we ran away together when we were young teenagers because we loved each other and my dad was not allowing me to go with this lad, he was really strict and he wanted me to concentrate on my work in school.
“We were rouges together, shop lifting for food, we looked after each other. We travelled in a long distance lorry. You don’t realise the dangers at that age. When I see runaway kids on the TV now it takes me back. Back then, it wasn’t safe, but it was a hell of a lot safer than it is now. Me being a teenage runaway now, I wouldn’t have a chance on this earth without someone introducing me into drugs and prostitution.”

Love and marriage…
“Up to my late twenties I had a great time. We were sleeping rough in the back of an old pub, but I was happy. I got pregnant with my first daughter and he said ‘lets get married’ so we did. I was definitely happy, don’t get me wrong, we had our hiccups but things were good.
“My husband picked up a really bad gambling habit and we didn’t have any money with kids to feed. I’d been seeing my mum and dad again and they were giving me money, but I ended up having to leave him. I went through hell for a good eighteen months.
“I moved into a flat with my kids and a knock came on the door at about quarter to twelve one night. When I opened the door it was the police. They were asked me if I knew my husband, I said ‘yeah what’s he done?.’ They told me he was dead. It was then I realised how much I loved him, we’d had kids together, he was my best friend.”

Introduction to drugs…
“Six months after my husband had died, I was at a low stage and social services were brought in. I wasn’t eating and depression had set in hard. I wasn’t acting like the mother I had been. A friend, well who I thought was a friend, introduced me to this guy that I fell for. He took me out, showed me a real good time, bought me stuff, I was swept off my feet and loved all this attention. He told me he wanted to take me away to a place, a small village, it was remote, you could take someone there if you wanted to get inside their head. He took me there for a fortnight. That was it. I came back a junkie. He had some friends there one night and they were smoking crack cocaine. They were trying to give it to me and I said no at first, but I gave in, I was powerless. When I first tried it, wow, it was magnificent, couldn’t talk couldn’t think. When we got back I found out that he had women working in prostitution, in houses and saunas, paying them in drugs. I managed to get away from him, he beat me up and I went to the police, I got away from him, but the damage had been done.”

Addiction…
“I’d only had crack that once, and didn’t have it for another two years after, but I wanted it the whole time. That one time, was enough, it had changed me.
“I was at a friends house two years later, and I couldn’t believe it. I saw her with the can, smoking crack. I never knew she was into it, I told her I’d had it before so she gave me some. I loved it, loved it, I got that wow again that I’d had 2 years ago, my head was thumping, my heart was racing. I felt like the inside of me was going to turn inside out. It was a great feeling.
“I never had any money, I spent all my benefits on crack I wanted it so bad. My parents stepped in and took my kids off me.
“I was around a lot of people doing crack, going to all these different houses to score. But we never had any money, all our money went on the drugs. My friend said to me one day ‘I know how we can get some cash’. She took me to a place where we met this guy and she told me that he would give me fifty quid if I had sex with him. I said no way, but this guy went up to a hundred and fifty quid. I couldn’t believe it. I did it. I wanted the money. It all went on crack. From then on, basically, I was doing crack cocaine day and night. I’d lost my home, I’d lost my kids.
“My mum took really ill and it felt like my world was ending. When she was dying, she told me to promise I would stop taking drugs. But its hard, it’s hard to stop. It took until years later when I was still involved in prostitution, starving, I looked anorexic, and homeless. I was rushed into hospital. I thought I was going to die. Its not good, drugs have taken my life, it’s not good, I’d tell anyone that, its not worth it, they make you feel lovely, but it doesn’t last. Drugs take your life. Crack is the devils’ work. If someone shows you it, walk away from it.
“Over those years I didn’t see my family, or any old friends or anyone I could trust. I met some of the workers from this centre out on the street but I wasn’t ready to accept the help that was really there. It’s only since last year that I’ve realised that this centre has got so much going for it and it really can help you but you’ve got to want to take the help. You’ve got to want to do it, because just saying I’m going to come off drugs isn’t enough.”

Crack and Heroine…
“I was around heroine users and that was a different cycle all together. People say never trust anyone who is on drugs, but if you ask people on crack cocaine, that only take crack cocaine ‘what are heroine users like?’ they’ll say ‘don’t fuckin trust ´em’. Crack cocaine users do not trust heroine users, they think they’re the worst people you could know or get to know. Even if they pinch your box of matches they’ve got to pinch something from you.
“I’ve never done heroine and I feel sorry for people that have, they have no life. With crack you’ve got some form of get up and go, the addiction feels more psychological but with heroine, it’s a drug that takes you over, totally takes you over, to a point where you can’t even pick your head in the morning without needing it straight away.”

Drug Trade….
“Dealers. They’d follow you, bully you, and come up saying ‘how come you ain’t been phoning me?’ They expect you to phone them but why would you phone them if their stones crap or they’ve given you a pebble when you can have a bullet of someone else? Vicious people. But, then you’ve got some dealers that were so good and nice to you and had A class stone that was fuckin’ wicked, I’m talking this is so much better than an orgasm, and their manners towards you, well, you’d want to phone them. But, you’d fall in love with them and that was a bad thing. It was intentional, obviously. They knew they had you.”

Desperate times…
“If could get a nights rest or a few hours I’d take it. I’d sleep in with men just to get a few hours, some men would con me, tell me that if I’d give them a fuck they’d put me up for the night, but soon as they’d fucked me they’d throw me out. I’ve even been thrown out without my bag and my belongings and they’ve robbed me.
“There was a man I’d been staying with for a while, he’d been helping me out. I’d slowed down on the drugs, and on the working, I’d even started to buy clothes again. But then his neighbour saw two more prostitutes outside one day, talking to me. She got in touch with the neighbourhood watch people, they all came to him and threatened to evict him unless he threw me out. So again, I was homeless, back heavy on the drugs, no where to go and back working even to pay for a bed and breakfast for somewhere to stay.
“I’ve helped girls pay off debts to drug dealers that were going to kill them, help them steal the cash they needed. When you’re in that work you can lift pockets. If a man has given you a tenner for a blow job but you see he has another hundred and eighty quid in his pocket, you grab it if you can. I had some good earners, we would work together. The most me and another girl got off a guy was £1800, we split it. But, my pimp found out about it, they make sure you give it them, I saw forty quid of that money, its not easy. But it’s every dog for himself. Some people will beat you, or bully you, its terrible.”

Police and Prison…
“The police have lied. They have arrested me for the purpose of prostitution when I haven’t been working, I’ve just been walking down the street. Seriously, they get to know areas, and if they know you and don’t like you or they’ve had bad experiences with your pimp they will arrest you when you really haven’t been working.
“If anyone tells you it’s easy to get drugs in prison, they’re lying. Sometimes, you get a rush of drugs, but within an hour they’re finished. Sometimes if you can get a spliff you’re happy with it. I did manage to get some crack in prison though, sometimes people come up on visits with it. Another alternative is prison guards. I was in jail once and I was sleeping with a prison guard. He would bring me cigarettes, chocolate and miniature bottles of alcohol, all sorts. I just needed to ask for the drugs and I could get them. It takes work though.”

Faith….
“Nothing ever lead me to stop believing in God. No, not even in the lowest points, I mean it. I believe in God, but I also question Him. I would like to go to a monastery for the simple reason of finding inner peace. To be in a place like that, away from the world, to focus. If I didn’t find it there, I don’t think I’d ever find it.”

Breakdown…
“On that day I was living around and about, I had about £160 and £100 worth of crack. Believe it or not, I smoked none of the drugs – something – I just wasn’t feeling right so I lent the money and the drugs to this girl, who I thought was my mate. She said she’d let me stay with her and her boyfriend for a while. But she didn’t, they took the gear and kicked me out 3.30 in the morning. I felt so desperately ill and weak I walked to the Drugs Centre and waited for it to open. When it did, they took me to the hospital, I was admitted. They said that 2 days later I would have been dead. Because of the lifestyle, I’d come into contact with TB, but I didn’t know I had it. I was in hospital for a month. It made me realise that I wanted more for my life.”

Helping hand…
“I knew about the drugs centres, and the drug workers do outreach on the street to tell you where they are and give you food and hot drinks. I knew where to go when I needed help.
“I know there is support, and it’s really helping me but it’s me that is helping myself at the end of the day. But I can get strength, I can come to this centre for a chat, people care about you here, I get real support, I can come, have a laugh, be myself, not have to be false, and even by tidying up, I can help out and show that I’m thankful. I still can’t really trust people though, I find that hard.
“I know people judge me for being a drug addict, but to be truthful I’m past caring, life’s too short, I see that. I know that I’ve got myself back on form and whether people want to accept me or not I’ve still got to live my life haven’t I? I’m still trying, I haven’t lapsed in four months, and I’m doing good; look at all the weight I’ve put on! I have goals now, like seeing my family again and being a volunteer in this place in six months if I carry on like this. I’d love to do workshops on drug abuse, drugs, and street life.”
Donna McBride was a JVC volunteer at a centre for women in Birmingham from September 2006 till July 2007

Fireside Interview by PATRICIA BEER

The Fireside is a drop-in day centre for the homeless and unemployed located in the heart of Birmingham. Joseph, 41, attends the Fireside on a regular basis. He talks here about his experiences of living on the streets of Birmingham, the society he lives in, and what he would like to get out of life…

“I was 39 years of age when I first experienced rough sleeping. My previous work was to be found working as a Male Carer and Cancer Support Worker helping people who did not have long to live due to the spread of cancer and such like.

“I was made unemployed due to a very severe lower back injury and lost my rented flat as a result. Some landlords will not accept benefits as rent, and the waiting list for a council flat is two years. I had no place to live.

“I first went to London to look for new employment and spent some time living on the streets, coming back to Birmingham, the city where I as born, followed after that. London can be very crowded and there are not a great deal of places to sleep safely at night. There are a very great many rough sleepers down in the city, young and old alike.

“I sleep here, there and everywhere. A homeless person should never sleep alone or tell anyone where their ‘spot’ is. At the beginning, when I first came to Birmingham I slept alone, it’s not a good idea, its dangerous. I now sleep in a group. There were five of us at first, but three moved to a hostel.

“Hostels are horrendous places. Hostels are very much a business. They provide a service, but think about the rent and charges for a minute. If you get into a hostel the government pays £136 per week per person to the hostel and the homeless person has to pay around £50 out of their benefits every two weeks. They aren’t a solution, it gets you off the streets for a few days, but it can’t last. I don’t think much of them at all.

“People react very badly to street people at times. This has a great deal to do with fear and pride if you think about it. It can be very hard to open a bank account, get employment, find housing etc. Homeless people live on the margins of our secular society. There can be a lot of injustice.
You see these people who go into Starbucks to spend £3 on a coffee but they can’t even give a penny to a homeless person. I don’t think our society will ever change, our society has no moral values.

“People can’t really tell that I’m homeless, I try to keep myself clean, and I have a shave at the Fireside every day and change my clothes. I think that the majority of homeless don’t look homeless, it’s something you try to hide. However, when I’m queuing to get into the Fireside, or sometimes when I’m walking in the street with friends people look at you and you can tell they look down on you. No one ever says anything to me. They usually ignore you.

“The police register you with these yellow stop tickets when you are on the streets. When they come over to you they ask questions like ‘are you drinking alcohol or taking drugs?’ you get these tickets for doing nothing, you can be just sitting there and they will come over, its just about how you look. The first time I was given a ticket I was sitting by the bull ring reading a book. They asked me what I was doing and told me to move on. I knew a guy, he had 350 tickets. I don’t have any real problems with the police, I know a lot of them and they know me. They have always been ok with me.

“It’s really difficult to get benefits for a homeless person because of proof of identity. The social security in this city has become more complex in recent years. The forms have become very complex and the system has changed. The system, in my view, relies far too much on modern computer systems and has lost something. Person to person contact is less and technology is more to the fore.

“Many people have been of great help to many homeless people. Many of these have been Christian, such as Birmingham City Mission. I have a friend who got his sleeping bag stolen. I was in church and one of the people we know vaguely asked after my friend and me. I told him about the sleeping bag being stolen and he went and bought one to replace it. He gave it to me and I passed it on to my friend. I was really thankful.

“I’ve used the Fireside for 12 months or so. The Fireside is a place that provides a great service, it’s a place to meet and talk to the staff and the clients. A place to get one’s essential needs met (food, drink, clothes) within a lovely and warm environment.

“My life has taught me that the two most important values are respect for others and courtesy. To treat other people as you would like to be treated. These are basic Christian values really.
Homeless people are good people, they are just in the wrong circumstances. I will change my circumstances and manner of living, I have made good use of the time. It has taught me a lot, but I will change my circumstances. All I would like out of life is health, inner peace, adventure, a good book or two and a smile.”

Patricia was a JVC volunteer 2006-7. She volunteered at Fireside drop in centre.

On Faith and Justice by DONNA MCBRIDE

Rebecca Pullin on the call to social action, a Justice System that aims at restorative sentences for women, the effect of prison chaplaincies and leaving her job as an outreach worker to become an Anglican priest.

Rebecca Pullin is an outreach worker within a centre for vulnerable women, her job entails working with “women who may have been in the sex industry or prison or have some other kind of vulnerability.”

Rebecca often goes to court to support various women. She has spoken up for women in open court helping the Magistrates to see a fuller picture: “By going to court with somebody it means that we can write letters to the magistrates and explain a lot more about their background and how they have been involved with our project. Many times I’ve seen the magistrates take our letters into serious consideration and read them avidly. This can save a woman from going to prison, it may be that she ends up getting a community sentence or something a lot less than custodial. I think that my going to court with a woman can give her a sense that there is someone who cares.”

The women Rebecca works closely with tend to face charges that carry short custodial sentences, typically between 3 and 6 months. Such short sentencing is common, and its effectiveness is highly questionable. “I think its dualistic really because for some women when life is just so desperate and bad that little window of time in prison can mean that they get their 3 meals a day and maybe address their drug problem. If they are out of the horribleness of life even for a few weeks it can be a restoring time. However, the flip side of that is that if life out here is so awful that prison is a place where you feel you can get a little bit of security and a few hot meals a day then what does that say about society as a whole? That they have to resort to that? That, I think is a terrible indictment on society.”

As an alternative to custody, community orders may be issued to women who have offended. “I feel that if they get an order of 2 years, it does mean that services are bought on board to help the woman start addressing what is going on in her life and the recognition that it is going to take probably 2 years to start getting things together is a reasonable time. However, a lot of women have a lot of fears about them because they are an unknown. Going to prison which is a known and safe area is probably more acceptable to them than getting a community order. What we, at this centre, want to see is women who will be sentenced to under a year, instead, given community orders because it keeps them in community, it means their kids aren’t put into care, financially for tax payers it’s a cheaper option and long term it could mean that a woman could really begin to address issues within her life. There are a lot of services out here in the community.”

During her time as an outreach worker Rebecca has built relationships with local prisons and visits them as often as possible. Whilst there she spends time with individual women talking about what they may need upon release and how they can be supported whilst they are in prison. “Women come to us for all sorts. Sometimes they think we can produce a flat out of thin air and we have to explain that we can’t, but we can link them in with housing agencies and hostels. Often we will talk to the women about the centre for when they come out, the courses we offer and the help they can access with us. Other times it is just about being another woman that is available to talk about problems or whatever. We have had a few issues with children in local authority care, I’ve spent a lot of time helping women to get in touch with their children. Social services can easily not fulfil their obligations and I can just be a voice of support, you see sometimes feel like you have made a real difference.”

When questioned about other projects she has witnessed working within prisons Rebecca highlighted the strong links between Christianity, prison and chaplaincy. “There are a huge amount of projects that go into prisons, a huge amount of Christian projects going in and out. Prison seems to attract Christian projects. This may have something to do with the verse in Matthew…‘When I was in prison you visited me’. There are all kinds of motives but traditionally chaplaincy has always been at the heart of prison, it has been there from the start. It is an amazing set up. Chaplaincy walks a fine line between not being part of the establishment and yet being part of the establishment. Being there for the staff, the women and the relatives of the women. Whilst traditionally chaplaincy is very Christian, it is now very multi-faith, and is still is a very intricate part of prison life. Even if you were only in prison for a few months you would still get involved and go into the chapel. A lot of women who would never go to church on the outside will go to chapel when they are in prison because it becomes their community and it has understanding so it works very well. It’s a place where women will often talk about deeper issues because they have time to do that and the environment is confidential. With regards to suicide attempts, self-harming etc, chaplaincy is at the forefront of this. Faith, be it Christian or any other religion, is a very strong part of the prison experience.”

Rebecca will soon be leaving her role as an outreach worker to start a new chapter in her life as an Anglican priest. She reflects on social justice, simplistic living, her job and her faith.
“I couldn’t do my job unless I had a deep and real faith; it has been the bedrock of my life. This makes sense to me. Of course there are many forms of prayer but there has to be some prayer in every Christian’s life which compels them to some kind of social action.”

“I also feel, for me personally, I have to live a simple life outside of work. I would not work in a project like this and come to work in a large car, live in an exclusive house, have excessive money, possessions or opportunities to holiday abroad as and when. I recognise that this is a personal choice and I am not saying people who are well off cannot work alongside women who are disadvantaged. But for me, I feel this is a call from God and I have to live it as best I can. In effect this means living in a place where there is high unemployment, shopping in the same shops as everybody else, having the same GP and dentist and queuing for these services the same as everyone else. If I am not prepared to do this and to live on a relatively small income how can I look the woman I work with in the eye? I am rich compared to them in every aspect of my life and what I have can be achieved by them. However, once they have achieved this basic way of living, I would actively encourage them to want more and to live their dreams, meanwhile I am then available for the next woman who comes along and so the cycle begins again.”
“I do believe Christians are called to social action. It is important to not only spend time in getting to know what’s going on, but also to ground it in action. I am reminded of the epistle of James (2:18) “Show me your faith apart from your works, and I by my works will show you my faith”. Sometimes Christians can come across as being naïve, well meaning or at worst ‘do gooders’. By taking time to be well informed, up to date with information and taking an active role in social justice, Christians can reverse this trend and end up being a powerful and energising witness to the gospel.”

“Christians involved in social action will often find they become passionate about what they see. They may experience times when they become angry about the injustices. At times, as they may feel they are the only ones standing up against a social injustice, it can be a very lonely place. That in itself is the place of the cross”.