I always looked up to my cousin. A decade older than me, a gifted athlete with an engaging personality and a nascent career as a schoolteacher, I valued his advice on whatever pressing matters of the day were weighing on me – advice which he was only too willing to provide. Then he killed somebody. Not a malicious, deliberate act to be sure, but a reckless, negligent case of vehicular manslaughter; bad decisions, screaming brakes and breaking glass. Which, in a way, almost felt worse in the ease of its avoidability and the life that could have been spared merely by better judgement.
My cousin’s accident and subsequent incarceration affected me deeply, but it was what I discovered afterwards that proved to be the catalyst for how I have tried to live my life ever since. I learned that, far from being an isolated event, this was merely the last and most egregious in a series of incidents that my cousin had been involved in, and the scarlet thread running through every poor choice, misdeed and careless act was an addiction to drugs and alcohol that I had never even glimpsed. An addiction that, I came to realize, had ensnared other members of my extended family like the branches of a pernicious tree; randomly imprisoning some, while allowing others to evade its grasp entirely.
My realization of the addiction that had crippled my cousin arrived just as I entered the temple of teenage life and witnessed its accompanying rituals of stress, social gatherings, grades, anxiety and, occasionally, alcohol. It crystallized my resolve to avoid artifice and be comfortable in my skin, and try to help others who might be vulnerable to taking the darker path through the forest as my cousin had. I volunteered to coach a flag football team of 7th and 8th graders – kids that, but for the vagaries of the birthplace, could have been taught by my cousin. Kids whose own home lives had, in many instances, been blighted by some instance of familial addiction. As I held practices, drew up plays, and spent time getting to know each player, I talked to them about my own experiences and those of my cousin and tried to help them with the problems they were facing. Every year that I have coached the team we have had a successful season on the field; staying in contact with many of the players I coached has been a far greater satisfaction.
I wrestle every day with whether I could have helped my cousin avoid or overcome his addiction. Ultimately, that is unknowable. I am determined, however, to produce something positive from his experience, which has spurred me to help others avoid his fate and to offer what counsel and assistance I can to my friends and peers as we navigate together towards adulthood. I plan to study political science in college to equip me with the practical and intellectual tools to promote societal solutions to the issues that debilitated my cousin, and I am resolved to pursue that endeavor to the best of my abilities, just as my cousin would want me to.