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Angela GarciaA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
In this chapter, Garcia visits New Mexico two years after she concludes her research. She follows up on her former research subjects and Nuevo Día. While Garcia previously lived and worked in the Española Valley, she avoided using her neighbors as subjects for her research. Nearly all her neighbors used heroin, and she knew which ones were more dangerous than others. Garcia later reads about her neighbors in a national newspaper. Their two-and-a-half-year-old son, Danny, had a cold, and Danny’s father first tried to stop his son’s crying by administering children’s cold medicine. When he continued to cry, he rubbed alcohol and then heroin on Danny’s gums. The child’s death earned national attention.
Nuevo Día was forced to close as a detoxification clinic in 2006 after only two years of operation. However, it was permitted to remain open as a center for recovery; it could still run its rehabilitation groups but could not administer anti-opioid medications. Garcia learns that Nuevo Día lost credibility for its inconsistent practices and lack of qualified medical supervision. She suggests that this view of Nuevo Día reveals a bias about citizens in the region:
The idea that Nuevo Día lacked credibility and that it was, like its patients, ‘unstable’ revealed long-standing cultural assumptions about the Española Valley—that it was essentially premodern and its people irrational and untrustworthy (186).
When citizens learned that the region’s only heroin detoxification clinic would be closed, emergency meetings were held to train locals on caring for people with addictions and administering life-saving treatments. Institutional failure places the burden of care on families, where complicated ties to drug use already exist. The war on drugs and the increased privatization of medical care in the 1990s streamlined addiction services while failing to consider context. One father tells Garcia that he knows learning how to administer Narcan, which can restore breathing after an overdose, will not save his son from the reality of drug addiction; however, it is the only resource available to him.
Garcia highlights the disparity between drug treatment in the Española Valley compared to the surrounding wealthier regions. The burden of care in Española Valley is placed upon families who are already experiencing loss and economic hardship, and expensive treatment centers open in other regions are inaccessible to them. One woman named Adela opens a detoxification clinic in her home. She only has enough resources to assist individuals through the initial days of withdrawal, after which they are dismissed so the bed may be filled by someone else. Adela relies on donations from her patients and locals to get by.
Clinics like Nuevo Día are assessed by outside reviewers who do not understand the intricacies of the region and culture: “Absent from these discussions were the historical, social, and economic underpinnings of addiction and mental illness among New Mexico’s citizens” (187). After Nuevo Día’s closure, individuals with drug addiction who were on the detox program’s waitlist for months were told to find service elsewhere. Some were sent to Albuquerque, where the waiting list was up to six months.
Garcia notes that the instability of privatized and institutionalized care mirrors the instability of drug use. One example of this is a woman who shares how the drug court system has left her with two equally unappealing choices: She may either remain on house arrest with her parents, from whom she experienced abuse in the past, or leave her children behind to receive care at a program in Denver. Neither option considers the context of her life or how these treatment plans contribute to her sense of loss.
While eating at a taco stand, Garcia spots Bernadette and Eugenia. She quickly determines that they are there to meet someone to buy heroin. Bernadette tells Garcia that they are doing okay and implies that their heroin use is an inevitable part of their lives. Garcia sees the pair again a few hours later at the rehabilitation group. The facilitator is weary and runs the meeting poorly. After the meeting, Garcia drives Bernadette and Eugenia home. While Bernadette sleeps in the backseat, Eugenia directs Garcia to take her to her childhood home, now occupied by someone else.
Despite leaving the Española Valley, Garcia feels as though she will never fully escape her research. Just as Alma reminded Garcia that her addiction has no end, the researcher feels that her work with heroin addiction in the region is ongoing. In 2008, she returns to visit Nuevo Día. The executive director, who was there when Garcia worked at the clinic, continues to do what he can to support his community despite his frustration and repeated defeats. He tells Garcia that he has thought about quitting repeatedly, but he has one more plan he wants to see through.
Nuevo Día hired a farmer to oversee a planting project for recovery patients. They grow traditional crops like chilies, corn, beans, and squash. Garcia notes that these crops mirror the traditional farming practices of the region before the loss of communal land. She is struck by the rows of crops and greenery around the clinic, a stark contrast to the desolate and dirty appearance it held years before: “The clinic, which housed so much anguish and frustration, looked like a scene from van Gogh. It was, in a word, beautiful” (207).
The women have a separate field where they can plant crops of their choosing. The farmer shows Garcia the tiny shoots of native white corn the women elected to plant. The patients tell Garcia that they look forward to coming outside in the morning to check on the garden’s progress. The researcher is surprised when she compares their enthusiasm to the unmotivated lethargy of patients while she worked at the clinic. One patient tells Garcia that he did not think he would enjoy farming at first, but now it feels good to recapture his ancestry and childhood through planting. He tells her of a project he and other patients are working on; they are building a temescale, a traditional sweat lodge on Nuevo Día’s property. The recapturing of land and the promise of things planted offer patients hope for the future.
The closing of Nuevo Día speaks to Garcia’s Critique of Conventional Approaches to Addiction Treatment. Just as the region begins to build a system of care, it is taken away. Instability is cited as the reason for Nuevo Día’s closure; the clinic failed to maintain qualified medical professionals on staff, and the patients’ unique medical needs required constant medical supervision. Garcia asserts that blaming solely the clinic ignores the complicity of private and governmental organizations that failed to offer adequate funding and support.
Garcia argues that the instability of institutionalized treatment unwittingly reflects the instability of the life of a person with an addiction. Just as a drug user is unsure where and how they will be able to ascertain drugs, how long they will experience the pain of withdrawal, or whether they will be able to escape the cycle of addiction, institutionalized care traps the individual in a cycle of similar vulnerability. A clinic can open and close two years later. The medications are sporadic, frequently changing, and often not comprehensive enough to deal with the effects of drug withdrawal. Clinic workers tell Garcia that the clinic cannot afford the expensive and more effective drug treatment options that are available. Often, the prescriptions provided are based more on what is available than what is needed. By reflecting on the cycle of addiction, institutional care surrounds patients with a constant reminder of their situation. One patient tells Garcia that being in a room with others who are also going through rehabilitation galvanizes loss and depression because there seems to be no escape. Because outsider private organizations make determinations about clinics like Nuevo Día, they do not understand the nuances and complexities of the role it plays in the lives of its community, nor the impact the closure will have.
Garcia’s interview with a woman who is left with a choice of abandoning her children or staying confined in the home of her abusive parents exposes a system that consistently fails to consider individual experiences and needs: “I felt like I never even got a chance to know how it might be...to be clean and live a better life” (191). Even as the woman follows the guidelines of the drug court process, she recognizes that this treatment will not lead to recovery. Instead, it will solidify her sense of loss and hopelessness. Garcia’s feelings about the closure of Nuevo Día are shared through an emic perspective. She feels depressed that what little was being offered to support individuals with drug addiction in the region has been stripped away. Even as an objective researcher, Garcia is not immune to the community’s sense of loss, reflected in the many individuals left on waitlists when Nuevo Día was forced to suspend its treatment program.
The Connection Between Land, Loss, and Experience rounds out the book. The hopeful nature of the Conclusion shows how these connections can be used as a key to recovery. The introduction of a garden helps patients on multiple levels. First, it reconnects them with something that has been lost and allows them to regain their connection to it: the land. By growing crops like those that were once grown on ancestral communal lands, patients recapture a part of their history and culture while unpacking the trauma that comes with loss. Second, it provides them with hope for their futures—something lacking in the traditional patient-prisoner model of institutionalized care. Throughout the work, Garcia criticizes conventional understandings of addiction that consider relapse inevitable. The framing of addiction as a chronic illness implies there is no escape or drug-free future to hope for. The Institutional Shaping of Identity starts and supports an ongoing cycle of recidivism. By planting a seed and checking each morning for its growth, patients gain a sense that something better can happen in the future—an important symbol of recovery.