network180 Stories
Recovery Coaches

RecoveryCoaches_webRecovery coaches are key players in creating healthier communities

Twice each month, a there is a group that gathers together as part of a network of professionals. They will often discuss various topics of interest and collaborate about how to make improvements in their work. Within their communities, their presence is influential. Among their peers, they are highly respected. These individuals are not part of a core-business team or board of directors, but rather a passionate team of peer recovery coaches dedicated to facilitating positive change.

Recovery Coaches are part of Family Engagement Program teams and are employed by different organizations funded through network180. Four of these individuals, Crystal King, Latonya Jones, Molita Strong, and Nicole Ward, are among recovery coaches that were recently added to the Family Engagement Program and work passionately as advocates for women with substance use disorders.

“One of the things that network180 and all of these agencies that are involved did recognize, was that what we were missing were recovery coaches,” says Molita Strong, recovery coach for the Family Outreach Center. “They were needed to ensure that after we get people housing, after we help people deal with internal issues from their childhood, that there is a real need for peer-based support to deal with the challenges of a substance use disorder.”

Recovery coaches are individuals that have “been there” – people who have personal experience with substance use disorders, treatment, and recovery. They are engaged in the process of teaching life skills for individuals to be successful in their personal and professional lives. In essence, they provide guidance and mentorship that is based on their experiences. The addition of recovery coaches to the Family Engagement Program is consistent with movements at the federal and state levels to include persons who have experience in the delivery of services for substance use disorders.

“One of the most significant parts of the whole piece is all of us are in recovery,” says Nicole Ward, recovery coach for Arbor Circle. “We’ve been in recovery for a substantial amount of time, so they’re not talking to people who have not experienced it.”

Ward continues, “This is the most important piece.  We understand.  We can identify with where they are at. So you got quite a bit of clean time sitting around the table, a lot of experience, a lot of ups and downs, so that they can identify with us. That is crucial for us being a recovery coach.”

However, substance use disorders are often not the only area of support.

“Our primary focus is on substance use disorders, but in reality what we really do is we help people recover in whatever areas they need to recover in,” says Latonya Jones, recovery coach for Leonard Street Counseling. “If we need to start by helping with housing assistance before we can get to the substance use disorder treatment, then that’s what we’ll do. Recovery coaches wear a lot of hats.”

In June 2011, network180 sponsored a 5 day Recovery Coach Academy provided by the Connecticut Community for Addiction Recovery (CCAR). A total of 50 individuals were trained – 30 from Kent County – some as coaches, and some also as trainers.

“From my own experience, I’ve had to utilize these exact services that we are opening up our clients to,” says Nicole Ward, recovery coach for Arbor Circle. “What is different is the recovery coach is someone who has actually been through a substance use disorder and can openly talk about it.”

Ward continues, “Before, even if someone had gone through it, they weren’t able to talk about it.  Now through our example, through our own experiences, we can share it. That’s the difference, not just someone who went to college and got a degree in it. Some real life experience.”

The Family Engagement Program is available at Arbor Circle, Leonard Street Counseling, and the Family Outreach Center. Recovery coaches can see up to 15 or 20 individuals each as part of their regular case load work. Days do not simply end at five o’clock. As individuals that have been in treatment themselves, recovery coaches understand a person’s needs don’t always fall during business hours.

“Since I’ve been a recovery coach, I get phone calls at 1:30 in the morning with a crisis,” relates Crystal King, recovery coach for Arbor Circle. “I’m not so quick to shut off and say, hey, these aren’t working hours, because I understand the struggle.”

“It goes back to us being in recovery and us having our own experience and knowing that somebody needs to be there,” continues King. “So yeah, it’s a lot of work, but its good work. This is the type of work that you have to have a passion for. You have to have a passion and love for people.”

Although the path of recovery can be a struggle, the members of the Family Engagement Team are well aware of how far they have come and are grateful they are to be in the position to help and support others. As words of encouragement, the team would like everyone to be aware of the services available and where they can be found.

“We have recovery coaches, therapists, and case managers,” says Strong. “For anybody who reads this article and feels the need or thinks that they can identify with what we’re talking about, please contact one of those agencies to get the assistance that you need. Help is out there now. Help is available.”

 
Jody Guiles

JodyGWebJody Guiles forges her own path to independence and recovery

When Jody Guiles walks into a room, she lights it up with her smile. She loves to socialize and be involved with people.

“I try to be involved any way I can,” she says about her volunteer work and peer support classes she is currently taking. “I started taking classes at Recovery Academy with Mike Roaleen, which I absolutely love.”

This wasn’t always the case with Jody. The young, twenty-something Grand Rapids resident – who receives supports and services for both a mental illness and a developmental disability – once lived a childhood and adolescence of introversion and solitude.

“In high school I had no friends. I didn’t learn how to drive, so I rode the school bus all the way up through graduation,” she relates. “I was quiet and shy in high school.”

Now, as a young adult leading an independent lifestyle, sometimes it is hard for Jody to imagine she was once that quiet girl who lived a life within the structure of a group home. During that time, she often felt she would be there for the rest of her life.

“I never thought my case would ever be closed. I never dreamed of that,” she says. “Now I’m just case managed through Thresholds, which has been an amazing accomplishment.”

Growing up, Jody felt slightly out of place. Social activities were often elusive. In contrast, her brothers were very outgoing and involved with sports.

“Me, I was laid back. I could sit on the couch for hours.”

Although Jody advanced academically in school (she studied senior-level U.S. Government as a high-school junior) her illness and disability lead to struggles with friends and family.

“My biological dad, he didn’t think I had a mental illness and he didn’t accept me,” she relates. “Because of that, growing up I always knew somehow I was different. In elementary school I was always in the resource room. In junior high I was always in special education classes.”

It was after she graduated from high school that Jody began her residence within group homes and at times was hospitalized.

“When I graduated high school, I had to go on disability because I had bi-polar depression. I had to be in a facility because of that.”

Jody was in several different homes in the Grand Rapids area. She was very uncomfortable in her last group home and at times felt obligated to assist in the care of the other residents. Jody also spent many days and nights alone in her room, crying by herself in solitude. Luckily, her mother called one day. She soon came and took Jody out of the home.

“My mom called me and asked, ‘Do you want to live there?’ And I said no.”

After some time, mother and daughter began to look into other homes, but by then Jody had already experienced the feeling of independence and positive social interaction.

“We looked at one of the homes. I liked it, but I had the opportunity to stay for a weekend with my mom’s friend,” Jody relates. “She was known for taking in foster kids and she was really sweet. I loved her. It was an immediate bond. She was like a second mom to me.”

Her “second mom,” Liz, took Jody under her wing. Jody credits Liz for being the one to bring her out of her shell, especially when she had to go through one particularly difficult challenge in life.

“Some months after I graduated high school, I found out that I had to have all my teeth removed. That was a huge deal for me.”

Jody had to have dentures made that were uncomfortable for her to wear. It soon became difficult for her to go to a dentist office.

“I guess moving in with Liz was what brought me out of my shell,” she explains. “She was more than just a staff person. She was there for me and took me around to different dentists and found one that finally got my dentures to fit.”

Jody continues, “I was at the point where I was scared to go to the dentist. I would walk into the dentist office and would have a panic attack and anxiety attack at the same moment. But when she took me to this one particular office, I was all smiles. The one she took me to was the greatest dentist in the world. He deals with people with disabilities.”

Jody made it through her life’s challenge with the support of Liz.

“She was there for me when I needed her,” Jody explains. “If I had a question, I would feel comfortable to ask it. If I wanted to bake, she let me bake. I volunteered for so many events at Hope Network with Liz.”

Jody’s ambitious volunteering also lead to part-time employment through Hope Network.

“Walt Geluso, the head of the living skills program, needed somebody to sort paychecks. I did that every other Thursday. I got paid to sort consumer checks. I really loved it. It was awesome.”

She also had the experience of giving back and helping others. One particular time holds special significance for Jody.

“I volunteered for Hope Network on the northwest side,” she explains. “That was fun. I actually got a consumer to say my name. At first, she could only say things like ‘book’ or ‘hook,’ but then she actually said my name. That put the biggest smile on my face.”

Jody eventually settled on a job she could excel at and also give her personal satisfaction.

“When I grew up, my mom worked in day care so I was around it all the time,” she recalls. “I started babysitting for my neighbors. They have a three-year-old and a nine-year-old. That’s my job now. I do that two days a week. It’s trying, but it’s a good trying. I like it.”

Recently, Jody has been involved in a relationship and now has an apartment of her own. These have been giant steps for her and have brought her far from the shy little girl that once spent most of her time alone.

She explains, “I am independent. I depend on me. And now, my boyfriend and I have been in a relationship for over a year. So I am cheery, bright, and open now, and am not shy and in a shell anymore.”

Jody Guiles now finds inspiration in all avenues of her life. This past fall, she volunteered to assist at the Disability Awareness Day conference (see page 6) presented by Disability Advocates of Kent County. Jody became very inspired after hearing the presentations of several individuals like herself that have taken control of their lives through independence and self-determination.

“When I heard people talk about their lives, it made me want to get up and talk about mine,” she says.

Can we expect to see Jody speaking at the podium of a great lecture hall, inspiring others with own story one day? Only time will tell. Regardless, one thing is certain; Jody is well on her way to achieving a brighter future.

“You can’t just sit around and wait for your life to change. It’s not going to change. If you don’t get up and try to make your life change, it won’t. If you want a difference in your life, you have to do it,” she proclaims.

“I don’t know where my life path will lead. But whatever I do, I know it will be huge.”

 
Joel & Linda Bentzen

BentzenFamily matters for Linda and Joel Bentzen, mother and son.

Twenty-nine year old Joel Bentzen offers a batch of cookies he just made, grinning slightly as he passes the container over the kitchen table at his Kentwood residence. Although Joel has lived with autism since he was at least three, it is obvious he cannot contain his pride. Nor can his mother, Linda Bentzen.

"We don't know how he does it, but he makes cookies from scratch," she says. "Back when he was ten or eleven, he started making brownies and then cookies. I would measure out the ingredients and he would stir it, put it on the pan and bake it. One time I got busy and didn't have the ingredients ready for him, so he made cookies without me. Even if I didn't have it set up ahead, he made cookies anyway and they always turned out!"

Joel and his mother don't take these experiences lightly and believe they offer unique opportunities for Joel to learn and grow. 

"Everything he does increases his understanding of how the world works and what is going on," she says.

Many individuals, like Joel, who has a developmental disability, benefit from some type of support. Fortunately, Joel has also received the unconditional support of his family.

"You need to change your expectations when you realize your child has special needs," says Linda. “We wanted him to do all that he was capable of doing."

Linda and her husband, Bill, kept Joel in school until he was 25, feeling that in school he would learn what he could and have a wide variety of experiences which would help develop work skills that would eventually benefit him later in life.

"When he got done with school, it was obvious he was going to need someone to keep him supervised," says Linda. "He can't really handle money. He can't make a phone call independently. There are lots of survival skills he doesn't have."

Despite these barriers, Linda hoped that Joel would do something where he was truly contributing. At first, he worked at a supervised assembly line job with other individuals that have a developmental disability. Although Joel enjoyed the work, it was not an active, social environment. It became very repetitive.

"For some people, doing the same thing day in and day out is fine. Sometimes it brings a sense of security. But for Joel, I don't think so," says Linda. "He got 'creative' in assembling the equipment and they said what he needed to do was skill building."

Eventually Linda met a speech pathologist and told her of Joel's story and the various activities he participates in at home. Joel has different chores written out on cards with visual aids to assist him. On the cards are items such as: do laundry, change bed, walk on treadmill, vacuum, dust, empty and load dishwasher. This impressed the speech pathologist. Because of her background in education, she came up with an idea that may possibly become Joel. 

"I've always appreciated special-education teachers," says Linda. "They are just excellent people. That field draws wonderful people of high-quality."

The speech pathologist happened to work at a school and thought the school's custodian could use some help. She would check on this and let Linda know.  

"A few weeks later," explains Linda, "we were meeting with the principal, the custodian, and the speech pathologist and talking about the possibility of Joel going there to work," says Linda.

The custodian was willing to take Joel on. The school was a large building and quite old. There was certainly plenty of work to be done.

Joel's supports coordinator designed an independent employment format based on self-directed employment. Although Linda admits it was a mound of paperwork, Joel would benefit from having a job coach who would work closely with the custodian. The job coach would keep track of what tasks Joel should be completing daily and the goals would be reviewed annually. It even worked out that Joel's brother was able to be the job coach. 

At the time, there were things Linda was not sure about. Although she was confident Joel could learn, she was concerned that complex tasks may be too much for him. The custodian, however, was quite confident in Joel's potential. Fortunately the custodian's intuition was correct. Joel has learned to wipe tables, sweep and mop floors, and empty trash. 

"Last summer he even painted the restrooms of the school," explains Linda. "The custodian asked, 'Do you think he would want to do some painting? He can start with the floor.' "

Joel completed his painting task and learned the satisfaction of a job well done. 

"None of this would have been available to him if the custodian and school administration had not been willing to let Joel try,” says Linda. “This work gives him the opportunity to use skills he already had and to develop new ones, like being on time and checking his work.”

When Joel arrives at the school, he has a clipboard that contains a checklist of tasks for him to complete. He uses visual instructions, hoping it will eventually phase out the need for a job coach. 

"I like it," says Joel about working at the school. "I like that school." 

At the beginning and end of Joel's workday, he signs in or out. By doing this, the school secretary always knows when he is in the building. Linda appreciates this attention. It's a safe environment for him. 

Joel has a good relationship with the school staff. He proudly wears a name tag given to him that indicates “assistant custodian.” People know he belongs there and is a part of the school. He is treated the same as any staff member. When the school had its annual staff dinner, Joel was invited to attend. Later, he shows off an expensive pen set that was given to him as a Christmas gift.

"The school principal once said the school values diversity," says Linda. "He felt that in a way, Joel represents diversity." 

Linda, although noticeably grateful that the school has given Joel work, acknowledges the challenges for families with children that have special needs and admits that at first, she wasn’t very familiar with the system of care, how it is funded, and the different providers available to individuals like Joel. It is often to the benefit of families and caregivers to become familiar with these details.

"I didn't know what network180 was, versus what Hope Network was, versus Thresholds," she admits. "I think the system is full of well-meaning people, but I do think if the support coordinator hadn't found a way for this to work, what would we have done?" she says.  

Regardless, Linda is now at a stage of contentment for her son and hopes Joel's work situation continues. 

"I'm grateful that he is as capable as he is and that he is as happy as he is," she says. “He is purposeful. He has a reason to get up, and work he is happy to do. This is what we hoped for! I am very happy. Joel could do this the rest of his life."

 
Clyde Sims

ClydeSClyde Sims uses his experience in Vietnam and life as motivation to help improve communities.

Clyde Sims wipes tears from his eyes as he recalls the time in Vietnam when his buddy lost his life during a surprise ambush.

“I won the bronze star and he died,” relates Sims. “The fact of the matter is that I was a young, scared guy that was under fire.”

Sims, a Grand Rapids native and peer support specialist from Touchstone Innovarre, believes it was his soldier’s experience during the Vietnam War that started his battle with mental illness and substance use disorders.

“The deep part is, some things happened in Vietnam that I ask, ‘Did that really happen?’ It was that bizarre in my mind. It was that traumatic,” says Sims.

A lot has happened since that time and Sims’ life has come full circle. Sims currently works for Touchstone Innovarre on their Street Reach team. The team is dedicated to assisting people that are dual diagnosed and homeless. They often work in shelters, missions, and under bridges. He was originally asked to join the Street Reach team because of his ability to relate to others that are going through similar experiences as his. Sims has been in recovery from both mental illness and substance use.

“That was 24 years ago and I haven’t had a drink or a drug and I haven’t been on psychotropic drugs since,” he says. “When I stopped drinking and drugging, I was able to handle the survivor’s guilt, the guilt and shame, and those voices that were coming in.”

Sims was born and raised in Grand Rapids, the second of nine children. He describes his upbringing as a “dream childhood” experience.

“I had both parents, was on the football team, number one in wrestling, started on the baseball team. The high school years were good. It was a good upbringing,” relates Sims.

Sims was briefly enrolled in college but soon found he wanted to pursue a life in the workforce. During that time, the U.S. involvement in Vietnam was growing and soon young men were drafted for the war. Sims was soon drafted himself.

“Being a competitive guy, I will say now in retrospect, I was kind of naïve about war and the ‘cons’ of going to war,” he says.

Sims believes the psychological and mental preparation to go to war eventually caused him great emotional damage.

“They trained us to be killers,” he relates. “We had to say things like, ‘I am a killer, sir! I am a killer, sir!’”

After preparation and training, Sims was put with a fighting unit and sent on his tour of duty to Vietnam.

“As soon as I got there, everybody was shaking their heads and saying, ‘Oh, so they tricked you too?’ I said, ‘What do you mean?’ and one said, ‘Man, now that you’re here, we just want to you know that you’ve got to take care of yourself.’”

Sims was in Vietnam for about three months before he was wounded during the ambush that took his follow comrade’s life. He was a machine gun assistant and his buddy was the operator.

 “My buddy got shot. He flipped over and almost shot me. Then I got shot in the leg and we were both laying out there for a lot of hours, crying for help.”

His buddy didn’t make it. Sims was eventually transported out of the conflict by helicopter.

“The guy grabbed me, cut bamboo to make a stretcher, and then ran two or three clicks (military jargon for kilometers) and got us back to where the helicopters could pick us up. Those were heroes. The guy I was with was a hero.”

Sims describes the “survivor’s guilt” he later experienced. He still feels that guilt, especially after recalling the time he was honored as a hero.

“Now, I accept the medal after years of hiding, but when you’re up in a hospital and here come some colonels and generals and people coming up to your bed and reading all this great stuff and putting a medal on you, you don’t say, ‘Hey, it didn’t happen like that.’”

After two years in hospitals, Sims began to feel the effects of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD).

“I didn’t know I had a mental or emotional problem. I didn’t get deprogrammed and they had not named PTSD at the time,” he says. “In 1971 or ’72, I had a nervous breakdown and ended up in Kent Oaks Hospital for the very first time. That’s when I was diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia and later on with manic depression and the post traumatic stress.”

Sims recalls how his life became an experience of being on and off of meds. He also used and became addicted to substances like alcohol and illegal drugs and was unaware of the dangerous effects they could cause.

“I ended up having a bizarre incident with a guy,” he recalls. “On a day that I was tripped out – earlier he put a gun on me and we had had two or three arguments – but on the day it happened, I was hearing voices and really thought I was hearing from god.”

Sims was sentenced to prison for the incident and was to receive psychiatric treatment during his time there.

“I did almost seven years,” he says. “That’s no time for the crime, but that’s exactly what happened. No one talked to me about my mental health or emotional problems until about a year before I came out and it was just an interview. It wasn’t even with a real psychiatrist.”

After prison, Sims returned to a life of substance use and was frequently in and out of mental health treatment. He was later approached about participating in Michigan’s contribution to the traveling Vietnam memorial. Sims then realized he needed to face his survivor’s guilt and make amends to his fellow comrades that died in Vietnam.

“When it came time to bring that exhibit, they wanted to interview some vets. Guilt and shame came over me,” he recalls. “I had to get on my knees and tell my buddy and my friends ‘forgive me for not speaking out about exactly what happened.’”

Now, years later, Sims dedicates his life to help those in need and describes the motivation for his passion.

“I am very regretful of some of the things that my mental illness and substance abuse had me a part of in doing,” he says. “That’s why I have a passion for helping people with their mental health and substance abuse so we can make this a society where people won’t have to go through the things that I’ve gone through.”

Sims is now a dedicated part of the Street Reach team through Touchstone Innovarre. The Street Reach team is funded through a federal grant and has existed for approximately five years. At times they will meet in different locations, set-up coffee, and mingle with as many people as they can. Often, they will organize motivation groups that meet twice a week and can have as many as twenty-five people in attendance per meeting. As part of the Street Reach team, Sims assists with finding homes and shelter for people.

“One older European guy, he just got in a place three months ago. He’s just so happy, man,” beams Sims. “Putting people in homes and giving them real support. With our team we let them know, we’re with you, and we prove it because we go to their homes. We go wherever we have to go to find them.”

Recently, Sims was voted onto the network180 board of directors. He would like to see all people receive the services they need and wants to make sure the consumer’s voice is being heard.

“I’ve learned to work with the system,” he explains. “They are doing great work. I just want to see everybody get help because I’ve received so much help. I just want to make sure that we are remembering that. Another meeting, another statistic, the bottom line is people need tender loving care.”

Sims sees himself within a peer support movement; a movement that he considers a revolution.

“The peer support movement is about inclusion and network180 has proven that. Like, by hiring people like me, including us, not just by putting us on an advisory team, but including us.”

Sims hasn’t forgotten about the issues he has dealt with and the lives that have been affected along the way. He carries this as motivation and fully accepts responsibility for his past.

“My crimes happened right here in this city,” he says. “I preach. I do a lot of speaking but I never get up before people without them knowing that I ask the community to accept my apologies for any hurt I’ve brought to anyone.”

Sims is proud of his community and would like to see it reach its potential as a place where people can find wellness, trust, and support. As a peer support specialist, a network180 board member, and advocate, Sims shows no indication of slowing down.

 “I always tell people, each one reach one, each one teach one. Each person has that power.”