“My grandson was born addicted to methadone, fentanyl and methamphetamines. He was tiny and struggling and my God it was sad. On the day of discharge, CYFD calls me and says that my daughter wasn’t not going to be allowed to take the baby. They asked me: will you take the baby? I said yes. They ran my background and said…hey, you have some pretty serious charges from back in 1997. Conspiracy to commit robbery. They said I couldn’t take the baby.

I was the getaway driver in a robbery. Kind of. See, what happened was my boyfriend stole a purse from a woman in the Wal Mart parking lot and there was a checkbook in it. I was driving. I didn’t really even know what he had done but we go to this check-cashing place and….well, that was it. We got caught and I went to prison.

CYFD told me it wasn’t going to work for me to have my grandson. But, you know, what I did is the past. The distant past. Something needs to be said for who I am today, for how far I’ve come. For all I’ve done. So. I called to Santa Fe. I took it up the chain. At 2am the next morning CYFD called and said if you can go right away and pass a urine test you can get the baby. Oh my God. I couldn’t go back to sleep! At 9am I did the test. I passed and went to the hospital.

They hadn’t told my daughter that she was going to lose the baby yet. She was in withdrawal, post-partum…it was very emotional. But I was ecstatic. I mean, for my family…I get to take this baby boy home and do right!

For my husband, he never had children, this is the first time he gets this experience. He is 56 and it was a big change. We both work and we’ve got a new baby. Here we are six months later and we are great. He is still very tiny but, man, he is good. So it’s me, my husband, my 17 year old grandson, my three youngest kids and my new grandson…and we have two dogs, three cats, a rat and a baby turtle. It is a busy house!

I was fourteen years old when I had my first child. By age 18 I had three little girls. They’ve had to live with the trauma of my poor choices. They didn’t have me. I was in my addiction. I waited ten years and had three more kids and with them I broke the cycle. I was home. I was working, cooking, cleaning. But then I relapsed and took off…and so my life now is about re-establishing relationship with all of them. Trust. Rebuilding trust.

My oldest daughters are stuck in addiction. I’m here for them but I don’t enable them. No money. They aren’t allowed at the house. They know that when they are ready for change, I will do anything and everything to help them. I screwed their lives up. I can accept that. At the same time, my story was being written and what else can I do? I own it and love them from a distance.

So, I’m the youngest of six. My entire family is from Mexico. My dad is American. He was in the military. When he was off duty, he would go to Mexico to see my mom. She already had my older sisters. She got pregnant. When he found out, he smuggled them over in the trunk of the car. I was in my mom’s belly. When I was born, all my siblings called me gringa and saw me as not belonging because I was part white. Then, my brother started molesting all us girls. He raped my younger sister. Someone caught him and he disappeared when I was about 6 years old. Gone. Never saw him again, ever.

My parents separated soon after that. I would go with my father on the weekend. One weekend I just didn’t want to go. No big reason I just wanted to be home. My sisters convinced my mom that he must be hurting me. But he wasn’t. They just didn’t like him. Anyway, the next week I go to school and there were some detectives there and they had these little dolls and they asked me if someone was doing hurtful things to me. I thought they were there to talk to me about my brother. The only person who had hurt me was my brother, not my dad, not nobody else so I was sure it was about my brother. But there were there about my dad. I didn’t know and I told them what had happened. My dad got arrested. Not once did the detectives tell me who we were talking about. Nothing.

My father got convicted and went to jail and became a registered sex offender for something he didn’t do. To this day, I have not ever had the chance to talk to him about what happened. I never have built up the courage to go and talk to him.

When I was about 18, I was at the mall and I saw him. I knew it was him ‘cause he was really tall and he lost some fingers in Vietnam. He walked by and I stood up and I said “excuse me. Is your name James David Green?” He looks at the people he was with, looks back and me and says “Do I know you?” I said “Yes, I’m your daughter, Dawn!” and he said “Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t have any children.”

Talk about some amends that need to be made, right? His whole life, he has never known the truth. He has never known what happened.

After the thing with my dad, I was in foster care until I was 12. When I got home I saw that all my siblings were all using drugs and alcohol and….well, I was angry, I was mad, I was hurt, I was resentful. I started with crack and you know what? I didn’t feel anything. I was numb and I loved it. I was instantly addicted cause I wanted that numbness. And I lost my ability to love anyone.

I stopped using for a long time and got a job managing an apartment. Then I hurt my back. I was in a lot of pain so I went and got painkillers and I didn’t know that the painkillers were the same as the opioids and guess what…one week and I was addicted again. I started stealing from the residents and got caught.

There I was standing in front of a judge again and he says “Ms. Green, twenty years on and you’re still pulling the same crap.” He sent me up for nine years. My son was in the courtroom and he lost it. The judge heard my son crying and he dropped it to six years.

The judge saved my life. If I hadn’t gone to prison, I’d be dead. My mom died while I was in prison. That was when everything really changed. My heart shifted. I was suddenly ready to do right by myself. I got in a 12-step program. I was ready.

I started to love myself. I started to want to be better than I had been. I understand today that everything that happened to me in my life brought me to this place where I could help other people.

Now, I am a CPSW and Case Manager. We work with the police to keep people out of jail. Help them with services, rent, utilities…whatever they need to get through their struggles and stay out of jail. It works. We are only a team of four but we’ve seen results. We’ve seen a reduction of violence. We need this because too many people are enamored of guns and violence. We work to turn those folks around.

I’m helping people just like me. I live and breathe for recovery. In recovery you are either in or you’re out. You can’t mess around.

Everyone should know that they deserve better than what they’ve given themselves. Try. That’s the least you can do.”

-        December 2022

UPDATE

“My son and I found my father's address and I showed up at his front door. Initially, he didn't want to talk but I let him know that I only wanted to explain about what happened. He came to the screen door and we talked and cried for 35 minutes. He let me know that there has been a hole in his heart since I was taken and couldn't stop crying when I told him about my brother hurting me. He accepted my apology and said that he never hated me. He told me that his attorney told him to never have any contact with me or he could get in trouble. I am going to see the D.A to see about getting those charges on him dismissed.”

-        April 2023