Why I became a believer in specialty courts
Most people locally know me as the former Harris County district attorney — and like most big- city DAs I fit the stereotype of a hard- charging, lock- em-up prosecutor. But I wish people remember me more for another aspect of my tenure: my devotion to recovery.
As DA, I started the First Chance marijuana program and the county’s first diversion program for those charged with felony drug possession. Making these treatment- over-jail programs work required a fundamental shift in culture at the DA’s office, but I came to view leading that change as one of the most important aspects of work as the county’s top prosecutor.
I wish I could say I always felt this way, but it took a number of years before I understood and embraced the concept that treatment solves problems that incarceration cannot. You might think I would have intuitively understood that, coming from a family of alcoholics. However, I was oblivious, even to my own problem. From college on, I was a highly functioning heavy drinker who found many drinking buddies at the criminal courthouse in the first 12 years of my career as a prosecutor. When I was elected to the bench in 2005, I got into the habit of drinking every night after work with my husband, Mike, who was also a judge. It was our way of decompressing
In 2007, I was asked to preside over one of the STAR Drug Courts, specialty courts that serve nonviolent drug offenders. These courts were still fairly new and controversial to many in Houston. The nation’s first was established in Miami in 1989, but Harris County didn’t create its first drug court until 2004. Before that, drug offenders were given one shot at treatment and then if they had one violation, no matter how minor, they would be sent to prison. The drug court concept recognized that treatment with supportive aftercare was vital to achieving sobriety, that relapse
was often part of recovery and that addicts had a multitude of other issues that also needed to be addressed. They included homelessness, unemployment and a history of trauma.
With a greater understanding of these issues and the nature of addiction, the drug court model was born. It was a revolutionary program in what had always been an adversarial system. Each drug court has a team to support each “client” (not defendant) in the quest for sobriety. This team includes the judge, a prosecutor, a defense attorney, a treatment provider and a probation officer. Together they meet with clients once a week, building close relationships and trust. Courtrooms became places of encouragement where one can receive help overcoming various obstacles. However, this is not the “hug a thug” court that early detractors mocked. Because of the weekly visits, violations are ferreted out quickly and dealt with immediately. A positive drug test could result in a weekend in jail, but accomplishments are also rewarded and celebrated.
Before I became drug court judge, I had visited the dockets of some and was intrigued and amazed at the friendly atmosphere and the applause that would suddenly erupt from the clients in the audience. I had heard that the program seemed to be working. What I wasn’t prepared for was the life-transforming miracles that the program created day after day.
Our docket had all sorts of people in it: folks who lived on the streets for years, having lost everything to drugs; uppermiddleclass housewives; college students struggling with addictions so strong that they would do anything to get high one more time. Over and over, I saw people healed. I witnessed them recover their humanity, intelligence and their humor. I saw them literally come back to life as they became sober.
That’s what happened to Freddie, a 20-year crack user who lived under a bridge near Minute Maid Park. He had a long criminal history involving one possession case after another. When I first saw him, he was a skeleton. His face was gaunt. He spoke in a mumble as he accepted responsibility for his crime and pled into the program. I told him that we were there to help him finish this program and get his life back, but that he was going to start by going to 90 days of lockdown drug treatment. When I asked if he needed anything to help him succeed, he replied, “If I could have some reading glasses and a pair of shoes, I believe I can do your program.”
He did do the program. Each week I saw Freddie and over time, he gained weight, his color improved and his personality beamed out. He was intelligent, articulate, confident and very funny. To see the glint in his eyes as he held forth in front of his fellow clients was a tonic to me. Freddie graduated from the program, got an apartment and a job as a security guard at the complex where he lived. He was reunited with his family. And he is still sober to this day.
As for me, I was still drinking every night. The irony of being dependent on alcohol while working with clients to help them achieve sobriety did occasionally occur to me, but it didn’t deter me. I relied on those glasses of wine each night to help wash away the horrors I had seen from my bench that day. I told myself that my drinking ensured that I could unwind and allowed me to interact with my children and husband instead of getting in bed and pulling the covers over my head. Unbelievably, I thought the drinking made me a better mother and wife. I thought all was well until my husband said to me, “I feel like you’re drinking to get through our life together.” That was like a slap in the face. The next day I stopped drinking. That was 11 years ago.
My decision to quit drinking was quick, but it was anything but easy, even with the support of my husband who quit alongside me. I had to completely change my way of life and mindset to stay sober. We used to joke that for the first six months of sobriety we only went to church and to the movies. If you think about it, those are the only places where you’re not expected to drink. Everywhere else, especially parties, I felt extremely awkward. A lot of people thought I was pregnant. When I explained that no, I just needed to quit, I was argued with, or the conversation would abruptly end. I lost friends, and our social life dried up. We had to make a new life. I was fortunate that I had the support and resources to make that kind of change on my own. Most STAR Drug Court clients do not.
I believe it is important to talk about my sobriety journey publicly because of the stigma still associated with addiction and recovery. Since many families have experience with addiction, it’s surprising that’s still the case. People seeking sobriety deserve compassion and respect, not disdain. People in lifelong recovery should be celebrated as the champions they are.
That’s why when Chairwoman Deborah Keyser approached me about leading the Harris County Drug Court Foundation, now called Justice Forward, I really couldn’t think of a place I would rather be. The foundation was started in 2006 to raise money to provide extra help to the drug court clients. Filling the gaps in services that the county could not manage, Justice Forward funds transitional housing, counseling, transportation assistance and scholarships for tuition and vocational training. This support helped make the STAR Drug Court program the success that it is today. The five-year rate of recidivism for these clients has been extremely impressive (27.2 percent) and is much lower than the national rate (76.9 percent) for offenders in this same category.
This success was noticed. The drug court model has been utilized to help other populations in the criminal justice system. Harris County now boasts 18 specialty courts serving adults, juveniles and families. Veterans, those who struggle with mental health issues, and juveniles involved in human trafficking and gang activity benefit from these programs. So do repeat DWI offenders and families involved with CPS because of substance abuse issues.
As of 2020, Justice Forward now funds essential services for clients in all 18 Harris County Specialty Courts. I believe in these courts because of, not in spite of, my experiences as a prosecutor and a judge. They are the most effective way to deal with the underlying issues that cause people to become entangled in the criminal justice system. I know treatment and counseling are the best solutions for these problems, and that the wrap-around services that Justice Forward helps to provide make all the difference in the lives of these clients, our fellow citizens.