by Scott Johnston

Draped in a dark pea jacket, Jerry Cutler leaned into the frigid breeze that swept the Pennsylvania college campus. “I remember the very first time I was here, about a year ago,” he said as we headed toward the Science Center. “As I walked through the parking lot, my anxiety was so bad that I almost turned around and went home. I didn’t feel smart enough for college. It felt like another big failure about to go down. But now look,” he said with a smile.

Bounding up the steps and entering the foyer, Jerry joked with some fellow students. They were there for an event honoring them as participants of the college’s Power Program – a unique educational program for people who have traveled the road of mental illness and recovery.

It wasn’t that long ago that Jerry, 28, paced the concrete of a jail cell. “The prison is just fifteen miles from here, but it could have been a galaxy away,” he said. “My emotions were dark. Jail stripped my sense of future. I would have said, ‘Get lost!’ if someone had told me I would be going to college someday.”

That “someday” was played out during his initial visit to Montgomery County Community College – the day anxiety nearly overpowered him. While approaching anything new and challenging tends to stir anyone up a bit, Jerry’s distress ran deeper. It was a more limiting vulnerability shaped by accumulated hits of Bipolar Disorder, depression, drug addiction, family trauma, incarceration, and ruptured relationships.

“I’m learning more now than ever, and I put effort into it.”

As the Power Program event got underway, the room filled with students, friends, and family members. The college’s president, Dr. Karen Stout, as well as county mental health officials, spoke of the significance of new beginnings, including the challenges. As several Power participants shared their journeys, each emphasized the support and validation provided by the program’s practical, highly personal approach to helping people start (or resume) college learning. Their stories also acknowledged the uniquely individual process of recovery.

The Power Program supports students who, like Jerry, have been through difficult, complex emotional challenges.

One by one, current and past students were called to the stage and presented with certificates. The group then got together for photos. “I first heard about this program from Mae Harden,” Jerry recalled. “She’s a recovery coach I met at the county MH office where I get counseling.” Long before she was employed there, Mae struggled with mental health problems. With the Power Program’s support, she gradually dug into her coursework and transferred to a four-year college, where she’ll be graduating soon. “Mae studied psychology and social services, and now she’s working in the field,” Jerry said. “That’s what I want to do… help others who are going through mental illness and drug addiction. Since I’ve been through the wringer, I think my perspective can help. In addition to my Power class, I’m also taking a psychology course.” Jerry will soon have a chance to test out his role as a helper. Active in AA and NA, he is approaching one year of sobriety and was recently asked to become a sponsor.

The Power Program honors its past and current students.

“My drug addiction has painful roots. When I was 15, my father talked me into shooting heroin with him. He was diagnosed with schizophrenia… I think he used drugs to dull the pain.” While on bail following his arrest, Jerry’s father overdosed and died. “I also lost my grandfather around that time, and I was close to him, too,” said Jerry. “That’s when my drug use got worse. So did my legal problems: small scale robbery, assault, and lots of lying. I was hurtful toward my Mom, too.” From adolescence, Jerry was also in the grip of Bipolar Disorder. “Now I understand that the intense depression, anger, irritability, and hearing voices are all symptoms, but back then, I just thought I was defective.”

While Jerry was in jail, Montgomery County implemented a new program, Behavioral Health Court. For Jerry, it promised a way out. He signed up. It’s voluntary, for people with mental illness convicted of minor crimes, and Judge Joseph Smyth directs it. Before the program’s inception, the county noticed a disturbing trend. “Our county prison inmates with significant psychiatric problems had much longer periods of incarceration, even though their crimes were similar,” he said. “The costs were high, both from a social and fiscal perspective.”

Over the past two years, Behavioral Health Court has diverted some 40 people with mental illness from going to jail. Residing in their home communities, they remain engaged with the program for 18-24 months. “Our supervision is intensive,” Judge Smyth explained. “We’re big on personal accountability as it relates to treatment, recovery, and staying out of trouble. All the participants know that if they repeatedly make poor decisions, they could go back to jail. But nearly everyone has done well. They earn incentives along the way as we slowly taper the supervision.” The Court’s interagency team meets regularly to monitor treatment planning. “Another big part of our job is coaching people how to navigate public systems. We help them access needed health, vocational, and social services, including educational opportunities like the Power Program,” said the judge as he waited in the auditorium to congratulate Jerry.

Behavioral Health Court was a life-altering intervention, according to Jerry. “I never want to be in jail again. Judge Smyth gave me a chance to get my future back. He can be tough, but he is fair. Most of all, I know he cares.”

When asked about other key sources of support, Jerry mentioned Steve Kushner, who was a student intern at the county MH office when they first met. “Steve provided motivation when I was at rock bottom. He told me that I could make it and that he believed in me. We also talked about my resistance to medication, and he helped me understand that the role of my meds was like insulin for a diabetic. It’s not a perfect analogy, but it really shifted my view. Now I stay on my meds. I think they help a lot, even though there are some downsides.” Jerry still sees Steve, who along with Mae (both pictured below), is a fellow recovery coach at the same agency.

Jerry also described spirituality as an important resource. “While I grew up in a religious family,” he said, “it wasn’t until a year ago that my faith became central to how I view life. AA emphasizes the role of spirituality in recovery, and now I understand its importance.”

“The one person who stayed by me through it all was my Mom,” said Jerry. “I might not be alive today if it wasn’t for her love and acceptance. I did some pretty bad things to her, but she never gave up on me. I value all of my family members more now… my stepdad is behind me 100%, and I have fun horsing around with my little nephew.”

“Mom is the one person who never gave up on me. Family means a lot to me now.”

After the Power event wound down, we headed toward the parking lot. Jerry stopped and turned to the campus. “In a way, I’ve started a new life here,” he said. “That first day, when I was crippled with anxiety, I met with Diane Haar, who runs the Power Program. She is definitely a ‘people person’ – the instant I met Diane, I felt that I mattered to her. While I have many people to thank for my new life, Diane will always be near the top of my list. She listened and understood. She accepted me when I felt like a failure. She gave me hope when I couldn’t reach for it. Someday I want to have that effect on others.”

“Diane, who oversees the Power Program, is my hero.”