SPOTLIGHT ON…
T.U.I – Teaching Under the Influence
By Keisha Bass, Ft. Worth, TX
Principal Jimenez’s dark, charcoal-colored eyes stared straight into mine.
Her voice was almost a whisper, “I received a call from the administration office downtown. They gave me some disturbing news and I need the truth.”
My heart vaulted into my throat.
She went on, “It seems they received a call from the parent of one of your students. They said their child smelled marijuana on your clothes, that you left during your planning period and came back smelling like it. Do you have something you want to tell me?”
Anger, sadness, and embarrassment hit me with the force of an eighteen-wheeler. Right then, I don’t know if I was more infuriated that I had been caught or sorry for how I was living my life. A lone tear ran down my face. I took a second to gather my thoughts.
“Yes. I have a problem with marijuana,” I offered forthrightly, conveniently neglecting to say anything about my addiction to cocaine, however.
That was me one life-changing day in April of 2003. My addiction was going from bad to worse, and I felt I was hanging on by a thin thread. I had been praying for God to take away my desire to do drugs. It was a habit I picked up in college and held onto for ten years.
After this conversation with my principal, I had to take a drug test. It revealed a great deal of marijuana and cocaine in my system. All my attempts of quitting before had failed, and I felt this was God stepping in to take control of the situation. Shame was my new best friend. I knew I would now be known as the teacher who preached “Just Say No" to drugs for her students, but could not say No herself.
I was removed from my teaching and coaching position and sent to rehab. The district’s administration told me that I would be able to come back in a month or so and take another drug test. If it was negative, they would hire me back.
My first two weeks of rehab were less than successful. I jumped back and forth between using and crying out to God for help. I could not imagine my life without drugs. But to be able to get my life back, I would not only have to imagine it, I would have to do it. Nevertheless, wanting to stop and stopping were two different things. I finally managed to put six days of sobriety together. And one day during a break at my out-patient program, I called my principal to let her know I was having some success in my struggle.
“Hello, Ms. Jimenez?”
“This is she.”
“Yes. This is Keisha. I just wanted to let you know I’m doing better and will be ready to take the drug test in a month.”
“Great. I’m glad you’re doing well.”
“I can’t wait to be able to come back to work. I miss my students very much. That’s what’s keeping me going.”
“Well, I am sorry to tell you, but I had to go ahead and fill your position for next year. I couldn’t wait any longer.”
Tears flowed freely from my eyes. I cleared my throat, “Are you serious? But I’m working really hard to come back. I know I messed up, but I am trying. I love working there.”
“I know Keisha, but I could not wait any longer. Keep doing well. I’m proud of you, but I do not have a position for you here. The district will have to transfer you to another school.”
I gave up. “Okay,” I said. “I was really hoping to come back, but I understand. Do you mind if I attend the sports banquet tonight?”
She hesitated, “I don’t think that would be a good idea. The kids will have a lot of questions for you that you may not be ready to answer.”
“I understand. Please tell everyone I said hello and I guess I will talk to you later.”
“Okay. You take care.”
“I will.”
Hanging up the phone, I felt I was putting a lid on all I had accomplished in those six days that to me seemed like a year. I went back into the room to discuss the situation with my drug counselor, Kip. He could sense I was distraught. Or maybe the fact that livid obscenities were coming out of my mouth clued him in to my state of mind.
“Keisha. What has happened has happened. The important thing is, what are you going to do now?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “Forget it,” I said. “I might as well go back to what I was doing. It doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter. There are other jobs out there. Other things you can do. You need to want to stay clean for yourself.”
I remained quiet while thinking where I could get a bag of marijuana on the way home. Before I left rehab that day, I promised Kip, myself, and God that I would do my best to stay clean.
However, when 7 p.m. hit (the time my school was having our sports banquet), I was at home sinking lower and lower into my couch. My thoughts overtook me. What is going on at the banquet? Are my players wondering where I am?
Some “friends” from rehab were with me. They knew where a party was that night and felt they knew the best way to cheer me up. My first of many slip-ups was alcohol. I started drinking at about 7:20 p.m.
We went to the party, and marijuana was handed to me. I paused, and then grabbed it. I inhaled with the comfort I had missed for that short time I was clean. And as night turned to early morning, I piled on the sorrow. I was looking for anything to get rid of the pain of being a failure. Speed was put in front of me, so I snorted that as well. Then shortly after that, someone brought Ecstasy pills into the party. So I swallowed that.
Not aware of my surroundings and too scared to drive, I allowed a friend to drive my car home. He had been using too, just not as much as I had. On the way home, I decided that I was not done ruining my sobriety. I instructed him to stop somewhere so I could get some cocaine. At five in the morning, I was high, in an area known for its crime, and looking for a drug dealer whom I knew nothing about. We found him and purchased some cocaine. And when I got home, I snorted that. I was completely out of my mind. I can’t say I remember everything after that, but I was at home. And when my body couldn’t take any more, I passed out.
The next morning, I woke up a totally different person. I was so thankful I was safe, alive, and in my own bed. I vowed that I was done with drugs. I got up and wrote God a four-page letter. I repented and asked for forgiveness. I let the tears fall where they pleased. And as I wrote, I could feel God smiling down on me. He knew I was through with drugs, as did I.
After writing all my thoughts down, I called my sister. I asked her to come get me. Then I washed my clothes, cleaned my house, and packed. I had her to take me to my parents’ house. I knew I needed to get out of my surroundings and finish my rehab from there. I did. Soon one day became two, and two became four, and so on. After three weeks, I completed my outpatient rehab program and returned to my apartment. I was refreshed, revitalized, and had a new outlook on staying clean.
This May will be six years since I kicked this habit out the door and I have never looked back. I believe I am totally delivered and will continue to lean on God for everything. I am trying my best to follow the plan God has for my life. I want to help others get clean, and help them gain a personal relationship with the Lord. It was the best medicine for me and I am so grateful for all He has done and continues to do.
I now teach and coach in a different district. The people I share my testimony with today tell me they could never imagine me like that. I am glad they can see a difference in me from the person I once was. And I know I will never forget my past because I lived it and lived through it. But I also know that there is more to life than living the drug-abusing lifestyle, and I am excited to look ahead to what God has planned for my future.