Jordan McClements is a writer and painter from Dover, who teaches at his alma mater, Delaware State University. His paintings are on display at the Dover Art League.
Frightened. Scared. Alone. Injecting the current cut of a lethal drug supply. It doesn’t matter how many people are around. They don’t want to help you. They don’t know how to help you. They’re scared of helping you. They’re scared of helping themselves. They fear you and themselves. They give you money on the interstate when you get close enough to show them the tragedy behind your eyes. The same tragedy is behind their eyes. You don’t want to keep going back, but you must spend their money on the re-up. If not, you withdraw, or you can find peace in not withdrawing. Life is always fight or flight. Your nervous system is a motor. Speed to come up. Junk to come down. It didn’t start like this. You have a family that you can’t find. You have friends you can’t find. You used to only pop. Then, you snorted. Then, snorting stopped working. It’s cheaper to inject. Just once. The first time’s free every time. You’re not hustling at this point for money. It’s your only method of survival. Spanning a lifetime into an afternoon, a day or a week. People you use with are dying left and right. You know you’re next. You use the same supply. You have the same dealers. You inject together. You use the same needle. You shoot each other up. The oldest person gets the first hit in a rotation of injections, just like smoking a joint. You’re 21 years old in 2017 in Dover, and there isn’t help from the state or people of Delaware in any capacity. You’ve been to Dover Behavioral Health System twice, and you started injecting every day after you graduated from college that summer. What are you supposed to do? Riddle me that, Delaware.
What can you do to help solve Delaware’s overdose and unsheltered crises?
We need to have state meetings that are open and accessible to everyone.
To ensure that Kent and Sussex counties have a seat at the table, these meetings should be held in the middle of the state, in Dover, the state of Delaware’s capital. If we’re fighting over plans and visions, let’s join forces. We are stronger together in Delaware.
Delaware media, let’s ensure that all voices are heard. Let’s ask everyone what they want to do to help our residents in the overdose and unsheltered crises.
Let’s stop blaming one another. We’re all at fault. We’re all guilty of not having that conversation about drug use with our loved ones because we are scared. The system is at fault, but we all contribute, create and maintain Delaware, as well as its overdose and unsheltered crises.
We all can do better. Check in on your neighbors, loved ones and strangers. Write to your politicians on all levels. Have the conversation we all are avoiding. We’ve lost touch with each other, and it hurts. We’ve got to see why we are in this spot. We’ve turned our backs on each other. Delaware, we still have a sure shot of getting ourselves out of these crises, but we’ve got to do it together. It starts in your home, in your workplace and in what you talk about when you break bread. These crises affect all of us.
How do you use your voice?
Contribute to Delaware media by lending your voice. We all have one, and the more we put our voices together, the more we will sing. Delaware wants to get rid of its drug and homelessness problem. We’ve created this problem together. We’re going to solve this problem together.
The difference between the drug user and the governor is how you treat them. We are talking about fellow human beings. Americans. Delawareans. We can and are going to do better than this. But it all starts with the conversation in our community, uniting our community and making the people in power take a backseat and listen to the people of this state. None of us has the answer alone.
We’re better than that, Delaware.
Reader reactions, pro or con, are welcomed at civiltalk@iniusa.org.
