Artist’s story of recovery.
Cape Breton-based artist shares story of redemption
GLACE BAY — Korey Steckle felt guilty he survived the car crash he intended would end his life in 2014.
Now, it marks the start of Steckle’s path to recovery from substance abuse to living in Glace Bay and working on his art, walking distance from his 12-year-old son, who he sees regularly.
The Bangladeshi-born, Canadian-raised man hopes by sharing his story he might show others there is a light at the end of the tunnel when you feel you’ve hit rock bottom.
“My purpose is to help others, be open and honest.
Steckle was four months old when his Canadian parents adopted him from an orphanage in Dhaka, Bangladesh, in 1976.
The Mennonite couple was trying to adopt a baby girl and three times the adoption agency had babies for them. All three times the infants died.
The adoption agency suggested the family adopt a boy and Steckle, being the only boy at the orphanage, found his home.
“I look at those girls kind of as angels,” he said. “I’m spiritual but not religious, but that type of attitude that I was looked out for beforehand, before conception and birth.”
Life in his southwestern Ontario home was loving but outside of those four walls Steckle was subjected to racism and bullying in the then-predominantly white area.
He remembers being in elementary school, at a pool with other families, hearing fathers making racist jokes.
At school, he was bullied and told by his tormentors that if he told about their hatefilled taunts and violence they would get him sent back to where he came from.
It got worse when he reported the incidents.
“Earlier on, I must have come to a teacher, I was upset. And they held an assembly,” he said. “I don’t remember if they singled me out but after that the bullying got worse. It escalated.”
Even after his parents switched him to a different school with more international students, Steckle was targeted.
As Steckle continued to be treated differently and bullied at school, he also started feeling conflicted about his two cultures: the one he was being raised in and the one he was taken from.
Suffering in silence, Steckle started drinking alcohol at 14. It was soon a major problem.
“I was 16 or 17 and binging. I was binging every weekend. I binged through that whole period of my life,” he said.
After finishing high school, Steckle’s binging started happening on weeknights and eventually he tried cocaine.
THE DEPENDENCY
In his early 20s, Steckle had friends who sold drugs and he would drive around with them while they did deliveries. It was on one of those drives that he first used cocaine.
“The chase started that night,” he said.
Within a couple of years, Steckle began smoking crack cocaine and he lost more control over his life.
“My life after that was living at my parents or living with a common-law relationship,” Steckle said. “I was co-dependent.
Hiding his substance use as best as possible, Steckle said his partners would find out and “not be happy.” His parents who don’t drink and believe it causes harm, also were never happy when he was drinking or consuming substances.
But still he couldn’t stop and he continued to function, hiding how bad things really were getting.
THE CRASH
Steckle was in a very low place after a breakup and on that day in November 2014, he says he had “a death wish.”
“Even my best friend didn’t want to be around me,” said the now 44-year-old Steckle.
At a local bar later that night, his keys were confiscated because staff determined he was too intoxicated to drive.
He left the bar, but returned to find his keys unattended and he snatched them and left.
“I can remember driving erratically being very upset and angry and at the very last second I threw my hands up and pushed down on the gas,” he said.
Leaving the road at a high speed, between two trees “like a football post,” Steckle severed a pole which knocked out power. His car flipped three times before ejecting him about 30 metres.
He needed surgery on his back which was repaired using pins and rods. There was bleeding on his brain, broken bones and cuts all over his body.
In hospital, he remembers questioning why he was spared and a feeling it wasn’t his time yet. A visit from an ex-partner made him remember his son and how much he meant to him. He decided he needed to make changes.
“It didn’t happen overnight. It probably took me five years and then I’d still drink socially, like at a friend’s wedding,” he said.
When the pandemic hit, Steckle’s art tour, which included his first solo exhibit in Greece, was put on hold and he stayed in Glace Bay near his son, instead of returning to Guelph, Ont., where his studio was located.
Slowly during the lockdown Steckle began noticing old behaviours creeping in and he put down the bottle for good on Sept. 6, 2020.
THE RECOVERY
Alcoholics Anonymous helped Steckle and he still periodically attends virtual meetings with the Guelph group he attended.
“AA has helped me in that it’s taught me that helping others helps you,” he said. “And that is infectious in itself.”
Counselling was also an important part of Steckle’s recovery.
“Steckle said he’s gained so much from his recovery, most importantly a strong relationship with his son.
And although he doesn’t want to preach to others, he hopes his story will show them that you can heal and recover, no matter how long it takes.