Experience Matters: How some are using their trauma to help others
CADILLAC – I see you. You matter.
Now read that again.
That is the phrase Amy Cox, 45, a clinical social worker for Catholic Human Services, opens with when beginning her substance use counseling sessions with the people behind bars at Wexford County Jail.
I see you. You matter.
That’s all it takes.
“I show them compassion and that they’re a human being in need of someone to believe in them,” Amy said.
Amy has been working for Catholic Human Services for almost four years. The organization provides an array of counseling services for individuals and families, but Amy’s focus is the substance use counseling program specifically for those behind bars at the Wexford and Missaukee County jails.
As a social worker for 16 years, Amy intentionally avoided working in addiction treatment because of her own experiences growing up with parents who struggled with alcoholism.
“It was a very violent and dysfunctional setting,” she said.
However, despite her best efforts, the work continued to find her.
Needing a job, she found herself at Addiction Treatment Services in Traverse City in February 2016. There, she worked with their “treatment in lieu of jail” program, where she provided substance use treatment for recently released individuals.
It was there that she realized how much time was being wasted not providing care to people behind bars. Statistically, over 60% of a jail’s population has a substance use disorder, “but the public is choosing to spend money housing them rather than treating them,” she said.
So, at 41, Amy went back to school and got her master’s degree in social work.
From there, she set out to build the exact program she’s heading now: providing substance use treatment for people behind bars in rural jails.
Her focus on rural settings stems from her childhood as well. Growing up in a small town in southern Michigan, the stigma that surrounded her and her family because of their substance use followed her until she left for college.
It’s that same stigma that makes bringing treatment to these areas such a challenge.
Wexford County was more open to the idea, but Missaukee was a different beast, she said – in part because of lack of support, but also because of lack of funding. Wexford County uses liquor tax funds to support Amy’s work, an idea spearheaded by 28th Circuit Judge Jason Elmore.
Missaukee County however, with less than half the population size of Wexford, just doesn’t have the money to spare.
Without the State Opioid Response grants, Missaukee County Jail likely wouldn’t have a program at all. But with enough funding for about six clinical hours a week, Amy was able to introduce substance use peer recovery counseling to the jail, led by peer recovery coach Nikki Platz.
“Anyone worth their weight in salt, who does this job and sits in this seat, has some significant experience with addiction,” Amy said.
And Nikki, 59, has been in recovery for 32 years.
“Oh it was a long journey… “ Nikki said. “I first went to the tables in ‘88,” a term she used for Alcoholics Anonymous, “and at that point I went because I knew something had to change because I was gonna die.”
She didn’t know if it was going to work or not, but she didn’t have a choice - and it had worked for her mom, Nikki said.
So that’s what she did. She found a sponsor, attended multiple meetings and put in the work.
Nikki moved to Cadillac from the Upper Peninsula in 1999. After rotating through a few different meetings, she settled on two she really liked. But in 2021 she got a job at Oasis Family Resource Center, a shelter for survivors of domestic violence and their children. Once she started working there, she began running into clients at meetings, so she stopped going.
She couldn't attend meetings, but she was soon provided the opportunity to become a certified peer recovery counselor through Northern Michigan Substance Abuse Services. Not long after, she was let go by Oasis and in need of a job - which led her to Catholic Human Services.
Now, she runs 90-minute-long sessions with men’s and women’s groups at Missaukee County Jail twice a week.
She’s able to help people who are in the same position she was all those years ago, and having someone with that level of understanding is imperative, she said. For her, that person was her “god sent” AA sponsor.
“I needed someone I could trust 100% not to judge me,” Nikki said. “Early in recovery, one day you’re doing great and the next you’re a balling mess and all you want to do is use or die – and she had to be okay with all of those.”
To the people behind bars at Missaukee County, Nikki’s presence is a sign of changing times.
“I think it’s wonderful that they let her in there and do what she does,” said Kevin Duddles, 57.
Born into a family of people with substance use disorders, the abuse Kevin endured follows him to this day – and, he says, plays a major role in his own.
Kevin had his first child at just 15 years old. When his principal found out he was planning on dropping out at 16, Kevin said he suspended him on the spot. He started working and got his GED, but estimates he’s spent as much as 90% of his adult life incarcerated. He wishes, more than anything, that someone would’ve seen the signs and stepped in back then.
Now, he just hopes he can serve as a cautionary tale and steer others away from his path.
So he attends weekly meetings with Nikki, in part for his own education, but also to spark learning moments for the younger guys. Once he’s out, he’s hoping for a bed at a long-term rehabilitation facility. With some sobriety under his belt, he’s even entertained the idea of becoming a peer recovery coach himself.
“If I could help somebody not go through what I've been through,” Kevin said. “Man… I’d give my life for that.”