REAL
LIFE
From Issue #3
No
Quick Fix
Teens on the streets get their stories told
by Jennifer Iverson
art images by Linsai O (age 17)
How
many people really impress you? If you're like most people, not
many. But I think even the most jaded among us will be impressed
with what Andree Cazabon has done. There are some shocking things
I could tell you, about her being a street kid at 13, about her
drug addiction, about some of the horrible things that have happened
to her. The fact that she has recovered, gone to university, and
now works in the film industry may raise the odd eyebrow. There
must be more - or why am I writing about her? Well, Andree has
done something truly courageous: she has gone back to her painful
past, looked it over, and realized that she has something to say
about it.
A
few years ago, Andree got the opportunity to make a short film
called Letters to a Street Child. It was a story about a young
girl from a safe suburban home who leaves, becomes addicted to
glue, and finally is sent off to a treatment centre by her parents.
In the beginning, she passed this story off as fiction. And why
not? Who wants to blab about any part of their past, especially
one as difficult as that? But she couldn't quite do it. She realized
that she was in a unique position to explore the issue of drugs
and street kids. So she did. And the documentary No Quick Fix
was born.
The
concept is simple: a former street kid talks to some street kids
who are open about their lives, their problems and their pain.
But Andree had more to say than that. She wanted to tell the parents'
story too. Now, maybe you're thinking "what about the parents?
Aren't they to blame for their kids being out on the street?"
And fair enough. According to Dennis Long, of Breakaway Youth
and Family Services in Toronto, about 60-80% of street kids are
running away from abuse in the home, whether physical, sexual
or psychological.
But
in Andree's case, her parents were the normal, worrying, over-protective
parents most of us know and (try to) love. Andree doesn't blame
her parents. She recognized that they went through an incredibly
difficult ordeal when she left home. In her documentary, she follows
the lives of two young Montrealers and their parents. Laurent,
who began doing drugs at 10 years old, and Cathy, who became a
prostitute to support her heroin addiction, both have parents
who care and worry about them. At one point in the story, Cathy
says: "It's hard to go on your merry way when your mistakes, the
pain you've caused the people around you can't simply be erased."
And Laurent, who appears bright and sensitive, explains that "you
get so desperate for a hit, you'd sell your own mother for the
cash."
And
the parents? Andree's parents remember the pain of giving custody
of their child up to Children's Aid, only to watch, helpless,
as Andree acted out even more under their control. And Laurent's
mother, after enduring years of fearing for his life, finally
admits that she cannot visit him in jail because it hurts too
much. Imagine being Andree, the director, who entered these peoples
lives as an observer - watched Cathy's mother drive the streets
looking for her, and watched Cathy wandering them looking for
a hit. The pain on both sides is almost tangible, and Andree can
only watch and record. Cathy's mother says, "it's as if I were
dead inside. Sometimes I just want to die. I don't know how to
cope anymore."
This
is not a documentary for the weak-hearted. It is also not a documentary
full of hard facts and cold statistics. Instead, it's a heartfelt
personal essay by someone with the strength to re-examine a part
of her life that most people would want to forget. And she has
a message that is echoed by the professionals I have spoken to
in the field: there are not enough treatment centres out there
for young people, there is not enough money or energy being poured
into the issue of drug use on the street.
Andree
was lucky. She knows that many are not, and she's dedicated this
film to letting us in on a world many of us try to ignore. Being
on the street isn't about being cool, or rebellious, or independent.
In a published statement, Andree writes "Wanting to be 'cool'
almost killed me when I was 14." Maybe this article has convinced
you that we need to put some solid thought into why kids turn
to the streets to escape from their lives. But solving the problem
involves more than just money. There are a lot of different treatment
options out there, and a lot of different views on what we should
do to help.
There's
the idea of "tough love", which says: if your friend/sibling/child
won't stay sober or continues to steal from you, cut him out of
your life. There's something called "harm reduction", which is
a treatment approach that says: we can't make you get off the
streets, but here are some things to do to protect yourself. There
are methadone programmes, which replace heroin with a less destructive
addictive drug. There's outpatient treatment, day patient treatment,
short-term residential and long-term residential programmes. All
these things work for some people, some of the time. But is there
more that we could be doing? How do we convince the kids who need
help to get it? How do we keep more kids from turning to the street?
Maybe
the politicians, therapists and doctors of the world need to hear
some new voices - voices like Andree's.been there, done that and
made it out alive.
The
No Quick Fix cross country tour, sponsored by The National Film
Board of Canada in partnership with Canada's Youth Employment
Strategy, has scheduled stops in Montreal, Halifax, Vancouver,
Kelowna, Calgary, Edmonton, Regina, Winnipeg, Sudbury, North Bay,
Ottawa and Quebec City.
Director
Andrée Cazabon will attend screenings in most locations for a
post-screening Q&A and discussion. It is a dream come true for
Andrée Cazabon, allowing her to use her films as a tool for advocacy
and public awareness in the hopes of instigating change in this
ever-growing problem.
Check
out www.nfb.ca/noquickfix/ for more information.
