Twelve-Step Meeting Reflection

I created this hermeneutic reflection for my graduate addictions class at the University of Rochester. Our professor asked us to attend an open Twelve-Step meeting. Since I have had experience with cocaine use, I chose to attend a Narcotic Anonymous meeting. I have displayed my reflection below.

Twelve-Step Meeting Reflection

Introduction

The purpose of this paper is to provide a hermeneutic reflection on my experience attending Narcotics Anonymous on Friday, the 5th of April 2024, at 7 pm. I will also describe my impressions of the organization of the meeting and its function as a therapeutic intervention for addiction recovery.

Personal Reflection and Finding the Event

I have had personal experience with white-collar substance misuse; upon writing, I have not used stimulants or alcohol for over eight years. For these reasons, I decided I would like to attend a Narcotics Anonymous meeting in the hope it may hold more personal significance to me. I have been to a few twelve-step meetings, maybe three in the past decades, but I am unfamiliar with their organization besides my brief attendance. As I recount my experience attending this meeting, please know I didn't record nor remember an exact series of events and have tried my best to fill in things from my memory; I have undoubtedly made mistakes and claimed certain things happened in a certain way and misremembered events, for this I apologize, for this reason, please don't take my account as factual, yet as you may a recollection of a dream.

I began this process by visiting the official Narcotics Anonymous website. I had difficulty finding a meeting and could not see which links to use. Instead, I decided to refer to the class materials provided and visited the direct link in our course materials; from there, I could see a listing of events and found one that was local for me, in the same office building where I work part-time. The meeting was listed to begin at 7 pm on the second floor in downtown Rochester. The format was described as a discussion on the twelve steps of NA; there were few details on the agenda nor information for attendees on what to expect. I approached the meeting early, 6:30 pm, so I had plenty of time to find the exact venue before the 7 pm start. I tried to enter by the address provided, but after taking elevators, climbing stairs, and navigating locked doors for around 20 minutes, I still could not find the location of the meeting. 

There was no office or suite number in the instructions. I decided to review the materials online to see if I had the right place. I called a phone number on the website to try and ask for directions, but nobody answered. It was now 7:15 pm; I had been searching for 45 minutes and was about to give up. I then decided to try another route. I returned to my office, came down again to the retail level two, and decided to walk the floor, a shopping mall, to see what I found. Just as I was about to give up, I saw one of the retail spaces that looked empty. Beyond their glass doors in the rear of the empty retail space, I spied a circle of chairs with about a dozen people; I thought to myself, "This may be it!" and entered.

Description and Reflections on the Event

I entered the glass doors and walked into a large, open retail floor space. It appeared very empty save for chairs aligned against the wall and about a dozen chairs placed in a circle in front of a fold-out table at the rear of the room. There was coffee and biscuits, I believe, just behind the table. There were about two to three chairs vacant in the circle; I found a seat that was partially behind a cement beam yet still part of the circle.

One thought that ran across my mind at first was that every person in the room was African American. As a caucasian looking man, (although with mixed descent), I am used to often feeling as being in the racial majority in the places I frequent, or at least having representation. I don't think I have ever been in a social setting where I was the only white person amongst black people. So, for me, being here as the only white person, I felt a little out of place, but importantly, this strengthened my cultural sensitivity towards other races, who, much more frequently than I may, feel like they are out of place in the United States.

Socio-economically, the people appeared to me as middle to lower class. I don't know how to objectively describe this, so I am judging subjectively by their clothes appearing less designer, and some of them were suffering from visible physical ailments, for example, a walking cane or general frailty or deformity in their posture. I realize that I am using biases to judge what socioeconomic class the attendees were in; I know very well I may be wrong. These people didn't fit the mold of the substance users I hung around before, who were often business executives in suits, presumably in a higher socioeconomic class.

After I sat down, one gentleman looked over at me and waved; he walked over, introduced himself to me, and hugged me. I said hello, and after this initial greeting, a number of other men walked over and hugged me, and introduced themselves. I felt pleased that they acknowledged me, but I did feel uncomfortable that they hugged; it appears that it must be a cultural practice for members to physically hug each other. Maybe the physical act of hugging has proved a positive method of providing care for attendees and is an overall asset to the culture of Narcotics Anonymous. Perhaps I am out of touch because I am not open to being hugged.

A lady who was the host at the fold-out table began the proceedings. She started by reading announcements of anniversaries for people who had clean time. Then she began reading from a book, members recited along with her by heart. She said today's topic was from chapter four of their book; it related to building a moral inventory of oneself. Different members of the circle then took turns reading parts of the book, each of which described deep introspection into oneself and using this to improve and recover from addiction. Interspersed with the readings was commentary by the members. The commentary was often of a spiritual nature, for example, thanking God that they are here today or proclaiming that the text they are reading feels to be a gift from God.

After the readings, a donation bin was passed around. I was also presented with a Narcotics Anonymous keychain, which was the color white, which I now realize is given to each new member at their first meeting. As I write now, the keychain hangs off of my car keys. The host asked if anyone wanted to share with the group. Another lady who was sitting in the circle spoke out and said yes; she stood up inside the circle and claimed that she hadn't planned to talk today, but God had inspired her to talk. She began telling her story, starting from her youth with drug-affected parents, her being sexually abused, turning to drugs herself, being homeless, getting pregnant, losing her child, and clinging to drugs and sex as her only means to survive. I believe she said she was thirty nine today and had been clean for, I think, fifteen years or so. I could be wrong about these dates or facts. I am trying to recall the spirit of her message, and I didn't take an exact account. The descriptions of her life were very moving, and it was during this time that I realized that despite any perceived differences, her story resonated with me. We had similarities in our experiences, and I connected with her humanity. I did begin to cry, unexpectedly; it was a moving experience.

After this lady spoke, the host looked over at me and asked, "Would any new members like to talk tonight?". I felt singled out because I think I was the only new person; I did feel that they were pressuring me to participate and open up at a pace I was not ready for. Despite this, I raised my hand and said I would. I stood up and walked to the center of the circle, following the lead of the other lady. I said something to the tune of "Hello, my name is Ryan, I just moved to the area; I abused stimulants and have been clean for eight years", and then sat down.

After this, other people got up; I would say another five or so people decided to tell their stories, men and women. Their stories were similar in some ways but different in many others. Some went to prison, some sold drugs, some were abused, although some did not fit any of these molds and came from a fairly good home, yet started using. The common thread throughout these stories was that they were incredibly real and brutally honest, and each person faced pain; the stories carried power. I think I continued to cry throughout the forty five minutes of story-sharing, trying to hide my tears from people in the group as best I could. These people, who I initially thought must be different from me, were very much like me; I felt related and connected to them via their stories.

During this period, the man who originally had first introduced himself to me took a Narcotics Anonymous pamphlet and passed it around to members; I noticed that some of the male members were writing their names and phone numbers on it. The pamphlet was passed to me; I wrote my name and phone number on it, too, and continued to pass it along. I realized I had made a mistake when the pamphlet was then passed back to me. The pamphlet wasn't for me to write my name on, the pamphlet was for me. It listed the names and phone numbers of men in the group offering their support to me, presumably to become my sponsor.

The event was now coming to a conclusion. The host came up to me and handed me a piece of paper with some writing on it. It was some kind of proclamation regarding the benefits of Narcotics Anonymous. I did not clearly understand what was happening, yet I realized I was to close the meeting by reading it. I read from the text. After completing it, I handed the paper back to the host. All the attendees then stood up and formed a circle; they each embraced their arms around each other, spoke some words, and the event ended. After a few platitudes to the remaining members, I grabbed my coat and bag and left. I felt as if I just had an emotional purging, something I hadn't expected at all; in some ways, I felt targeted by the group and coerced to participate at a deeper level than I originally had desired to, yet paradoxically, I felt pleased I went, I told myself I should come again, there was potentially something here that could help me.

Impression of Organization

The first impression I received of the organization was that it was underfunded. I received this impression through their website, which, to me, looked like something that was built in the 1990s. To me, it was difficult to use and disorganized. The impression continued as I tried to search for an event, contact their contact center, and even find the meeting place, which turned out to be in a vacant retail space in a shopping mall. Whatever Narcotics Anonymous is doing, it seems to be done on a shoestring budget in a very grass-roots way. It did not have a professional front, and this made it a little bit intimidating; I did not feel safe and was worried about what I was getting myself into.

The second impression I received was that the group I attended appeared homogeneous in its demographic. While there was a fair split between men and women, all of the attendees outside of me were African American, and they all superficially appeared to be of a similar social class. Most of the stories told were about stimulants, so I gather this group caters to stimulant (potentially crack cocaine) users. I would like to see an environment with a larger spectrum of diversity. For example, one that included many races and many social classes, as well as many kinds of narcotics. I get the impression that more diversity could allow for building bridges between groups and could take healing to a new level.

The third impression I received was that the group was a religious group. Nearly every person who spoke spoke about God. Sometimes, this was referred to as a higher power, which I took as a pseudonym for God. Not only was it apparent this was a religious group, but from my impression, the group appeared to me to be more extreme in its religiosity compared to what I have personally been exposed to before. Maybe this type of religiosity is a cultural norm and found within many spiritual communities, and maybe this is a key part of helping attendees recover, but for me, it felt foreign. Personally, I believe in God as a concept (a playful approximated anthropomorphization of the thing-in-itself), and I also feel there are many ways to access spirituality. Narcotics Anonymous, as I experienced it, seemed to have more of a literally accessible and fixed view. 

At many times, I felt peer-pressured to participate in the meeting. For example, them giving me a keychain, requesting that I talk, hugging me, giving me their phone numbers, requesting that I read closing remarks. I became scared I was being indoctrinated. I am curious about the ethical considerations involved if attendees like me feel pressured, or with hugging as a cultural practice. These days we are looking to trauma informed practices and I wonder how they could relate here. The group had formal rituals, a text that they revered, the Narcotics Anonymous handbook, and a hierarchy based on clean time. I received the impression that this group had a fixed idea of what God is and fixed views on the objective validity of the Narcotics Anonymous text. However, I believe the group's motto revolves around not being religious but instead calling things a "higher power." Is this a reaction formation? These fixed views may be very helpful for someone looking for certainty in their answers and may provide a structural foundation that enables the group's success. For others, this structural rigidity could come across as dogmatic and too fixed, preventing them from engaging.

Impression on Function as a Therapeutic Intervention

My impression is that Narcotics Anonymous can provide therapeutic benefits as an intervention. The first benefit I see it providing is offering something to do to combat the isolation existing in substance use. Substance use can be a very isolating experience, and often, people turn to substances when they are alone. Being distracted and having something to do with other people to do via Narcotics Anonymous can be a profound way of stopping use. I think Narcotics Anonymous may know this, and this is why they run so many events so that a person in recovery can attend every single day, or even multiple times a day, which can be a powerful buffer against addiction.

The second benefit is that Narcotics Anonymous gives a platform for people to transform their experiences into words and begin to make sense of them. Sharing one's own stories and hearing the stories of others can add context to one's own experience. One may feel less alone and can begin learning from the group and making sense of things that we were previously unaware of. The group modality of this intervention is potent for this form of learning. The environment also seems to coax these stories out of people. I noticed a degree of peer pressure and coercion towards me as the new member to participate. This peer pressure was uncomfortable for me, but I can see how it challenges people to share, addressing their defenses and denials.

Thirdly, I can see how Narcotics Anonymous provides a highly structured belief system that can give meaning. We know that many people may turn to substances and continue to use them because their lives do not contain sufficient meaning. Substance user's lives often do not contain structure. Narcotics Anonymous brings much meaning and enforces much structure; for someone without these things, it could be what they need to turn away from their old behavior and find a new way to live with new tools.

Conclusion

In conclusion, my attendance at the Narcotics Anonymous meeting was a powerful emotional experience for me. I felt a wide array of emotions, from initially feeling lost and then unwelcome, then my personal space a little challenged, and then feeling peer-pressured and targeted to participate. I felt forced to support their predetermined worldview when we read from their text or followed their protocols with the group's authority figures. Despite this, I also felt profoundly moved; I cried more than I have cried for a long while, and I felt connected to these people when they shared their stories. I felt a level of realness and authenticity that I don't often see in today's world. I felt the experience gave me something I actually lacked, even if it felt a little force-fed.

I do plan to attend the meeting again, if I can, I hope to attend once a month or so and begin to build relationships with the attendees there. Rather than reject the group based on its flaws, I want to participate in it and see in what ways it can change me and, as a result, in what ways I can change the group by my participation in it. I am not setting out to climb the ranks or adopt its philosophy; I have my own worldview. I do want to have real connections with people and build relationships that heal and help, and I think I could do some of that here.