Honor Court offers alternative to jail

"That's my gift -- and my fault," she acknowledged with a grin. "But the key is in their hands; I believe that to be true. Some people aren't ready when they think they are; but when they are, somebody has to be there for them."

"There" is Albany Police Court. When a first-time offender appears on charges stemming from drug or alcohol abuse, Sister Phyllis offers a key that can unlock cell doors: Honor Court, an alternative-to-incarceration program celebrating its 16th anniversary this year.

Option

Individuals who are offered the option of Honor Court instead of jail time receive approximately six to nine months of treatment for their addictions, counseling, monitoring to ensure their compliance with the program and encouragement to stick with 12-step recovery programs. Employment and educational training are also available.

Although it boasts a success rate of nearly 70 percent today, Sister Phyllis well remembers Honor Court's humble beginnings. Back in 1983, she was a nurse at an alcohol crisis center run by the Albany Citizens' Council. She often tried to help those detoxing there to get into rehab programs and eventually began going to Police Court on an unofficial basis to plead for those whose crimes related to substance abuse.

Finally, the Citizens' Council agreed to set up the Honor Court program. The program, which receives both local and state funding, currently has about 180 clients.

A way out

Judges, district attorneys, parole officers and family members are among those who often refer offenders to Honor Court. One of five Honor Court staff members (all of whom work per diem because they believe so strongly in the program) sits in Albany Police Court each day to screen potential clients. Staff also write and visit prison inmates to explain the program.

Those who participate in Honor Court must be motivated to recover, but Sister Phyllis noted that the program's status as an alternative to prison is often the "carrot" that draws clients.

"It's very important to have a carrot," she said. "If they're really motivated to do this, it's their opportunity."

Case in point

"She just wasn't ready" the first time she tried Honor Court, said Sister Phyllis. "Some people have been abused by their significant others; their self-esteem is really low. That dependency stays with them, and they don't try anything else. She was in that mode."

Eventually, Deb stopped attending Alcoholics Anonymous and Narcotics Anonymous meetings and lost her sobriety. What she really needed, said Sister Phyllis, was "people to believe in her. This time, besides the motivation of her young baby, she's beginning to see, `What is it about me that I couldn't stay sober?' People have to reflect on their lives and ask the hard questions."

Deb now speaks with pride about her recovery from addiction, her new job and her hopes for the future. Sister Phyllis was proud, as well: "She's a success story."

Successes

For women, Eleanor House in Selkirk may be another step. There, a dozen women live with their children in a supportive environment while trying to rebuild their lives. Parenting and cooking courses and vocational/educational training are options. (Residential programs are also available for men.)

More to do

"Maybe when the Rockefeller drug laws loosen up a little, we'll see more people," she remarked. "We see people now who don't get the opportunity to be released."

She did note, however, that it's the existing laws and not a lack of compassion for addicted offenders on the part of judges and lawyers that keeps more people from getting involved in Honor Court.

"Early on, Judge [Thomas] Keegan said if one person makes it per year, he'd be happy," Sister Phyllis said. "If just a few people make it per year, I'd be happy. They find faith in themselves and in other people -- and eventually, they find faith in God again. That's what I think I'm about."

(For information on Honor Court, call 463-1121.)

(05-27-99) [[In-content Ad]]