What I Have Learned from Visiting Addiction Treatment and Recovery Programs

Almost every Friday morning, before starting the rest of my day, I visit a drug treatment or recovery organization somewhere in Hamilton County.

As a Common Pleas Court judge, I regularly see the terrible consequences of addiction in my courtroom.

I began these visits to better understand the people and organizations working on the other side of that problem. They help individuals overcome addiction and rebuild their lives through addiction treatment.

My interest in this issue began before I became a judge. During the height of the opioid epidemic, I served as chairman of the Facility Governing Board of River City Correctional Center, a residential community-corrections facility. This facility provides an alternative to prison for certain felony offenders. River City combines accountability and supervision with structured programming to address problems that contribute to criminal behavior. This includes substance abuse.

My service there gave me an up-close view of how often addiction and criminal behavior intersect. I saw the importance of addressing underlying addiction while holding offenders accountable. I also saw how difficult it can be to break the cycle of addiction, crime, incarceration, and relapse.

Today, from the bench, I see that challenge from another perspective.

My Friday visits have taken me to Prospect House, Talbert House, Joseph House, the Center for Addiction Treatment (better known as the CAT House), The LIT Movement in Lower Price Hill, and the Cincinnati VA Medical Center.

Each has taught me something different. But the more facilities I visit, the more convinced I become of one thing: there is no single answer to addiction.

There are, however, common elements I see repeatedly: structure, accountability, personal responsibility, meaningful work, supportive relationships, and people who refuse to give up on someone simply because that person has failed before.

My visit to Prospect House made a particularly strong impression on me. Its approach emphasizes much more than abstaining from drugs or alcohol. There is structure. There are expectations, and accountability. And there is a community that understands recovery is often a long process.

Accountability and compassion are sometimes presented as competing ideas. My experience has convinced me they are not. Expecting people to take responsibility for their decisions does not mean abandoning them. Likewise, offering someone treatment does not relieve that person of responsibility for their actions.

My visit to the Center for Addiction Treatment (CAT) provided another perspective. CAT has been part of Cincinnati’s response to addiction for decades. My visit helped me better understand the professional treatment and continued support that may be necessary. This support can turn someone’s decision to seek help into lasting recovery.

My visit to Talbert House reinforced another lesson: for some people, particularly those struggling with opioid addiction, recovery may require a longer stay in a structured residential setting. Some people may succeed with outpatient treatment or a shorter intervention. However, others need considerably more time, structure, supervision, and support. If our goal is lasting recovery rather than temporary sobriety, treatment options must be able to meet those different needs.

My visits with organizations serving veterans have particular meaning to me because I am an Army veteran who has lived and served overseas.

At Joseph House, I met with Alicia Patterson and Heather Matthews. I learned more about the intersection of addiction, trauma, homelessness, and the difficulties some veterans experience after their military service ends.

I have also visited the Cincinnati VA Medical Center, where I learned more about treatment and services available to veterans struggling with addiction and other challenges. These visits reinforced something I believe strongly: a grateful nation needs to care for veterans who carry wounds from their service, including wounds that may not be visible.

They were there for us. We need to be there for them.

Most recently, I visited The LIT Movement—Living in Testimony—in Lower Price Hill. I met with members of its board of directors and facility management and toured one of its buildings.

LIT works with men recovering from drug and alcohol addiction, including people facing difficult barriers such as homelessness, incarceration, and years of instability. Its approach goes beyond providing someone with a bed. It also incorporates structured sober living, peer recovery support, employment assistance, life skills, accountability, faith, and community.

My visit also reinforced for me the important role faith can play in recovery. For many people, faith can add something important to treatment—a sense of purpose, hope, forgiveness, and a community that believes their life can be different. A faith-based approach won’t work for everyone. Nonetheless, for many, it can be a powerful part of rebuilding a life.

All of these approaches share an important lesson: lasting recovery requires more than getting someone sober.

A person can complete treatment, but if he returns to the same circumstances that contributed to his addiction—with no job, no stable housing, no support network, and no sense of purpose—lasting recovery becomes much more difficult. In fact, recovery frequently involves rebuilding an entire life.

These visits matter to me as a judge because addiction is not an abstract issue in a Common Pleas courtroom.

We see defendants whose substance abuse has contributed to criminal behavior, victims and families who have suffered because of that behavior, parents desperate to get a son or daughter back, and people who genuinely want to change but have repeatedly failed to do so.

The responsibility of a judge is not to operate a treatment program or excuse criminal conduct because addiction played a role. Rather, my responsibility is to apply the law faithfully, protect the public, and hold people appropriately accountable.

But when the law and circumstances make treatment appropriate, a judge should understand what that treatment actually looks like and what resources are available in the community. That cannot be learned entirely from a report sitting on a judge’s desk.

I want to see these facilities and meet the people running them. I want to ask what works, what does not, whom they can help, and whom they cannot. Most importantly, I want to understand what gives someone a realistic opportunity to succeed.

There is also a larger public-safety component. When appropriate treatment succeeds, and a person becomes sober, finds employment, accepts responsibility, reconnects with family, and becomes a productive member of the community, the benefits extend beyond that individual. Moreover, when successful treatment prevents another crime and another victim, it makes Hamilton County safer.

Not everyone will take advantage of a second chance. Some people will be given opportunities and fail. Furthermore, some will repeatedly violate the law, and incarceration will sometimes be necessary to protect the public and impose an appropriate consequence.

But I have seen enough—from my years practicing law, my service at River City Correctional Center, the bench, and now these Friday visits—to know that people can change.

Recovery is difficult. It requires work and accountability. It also requires people willing to provide support while still demanding personal responsibility.

The men and women working in Hamilton County’s treatment and recovery community do that work every day, usually without much public attention. I have developed tremendous respect for them and for the people fighting to reclaim their lives from addiction.

That is why I will keep using Friday mornings to get outside the courthouse—visiting these organizations, asking questions, listening, and learning. The decisions I make from the bench affect victims, defendants, families, and our entire community. Consequently, I owe it to all of them to understand not only the consequences of addiction, but also what gives people a genuine opportunity to recover.