The Torah is the story of the Jewish people - where they came from, where they are going, their struggle with their enemies, both internal and external, and the teachings that guided their journey.

This torah is the story of Beit T’Shuvah - its history, the values and principles upon which it rests, and a few of its heroes’ stories.

Beit T'Shuvah, the House of Return and Repentance, is the only place of its kind anywhere. Part rehab, part synagogue, part 12-Step and revival meeting and part extended Jewish family, it is a Jewish faith community where broken souls find wholeness and misfits find acceptance. The healing traditions that guide the community are a tapestry of Jewish spiritual wisdom, the principles of Alcoholics Anonymous and the practices of both. A major tenet of the Beit T'Shuvah model is that no one size fits all and the “Beit T'Shuvah Way” is to be open to whatever principles and practices support spiritual and emotional growth, ie. cognitive-behavioral and positive psychology, art, drama and music therapy and even surf therapy.

The broken souls who walk through the doors are men and women who either lost themselves or never had themselves. They fill their emptiness with substances or activities that ignite them, excite them or anaesthetize them. They stuff or starve themselves; cut, burn and pierce themselves. Unaware that the emptiness is in their soul, they seek solace in their bodies or possessions. In recent years, many who come to us are in their early twenties or late teens. They have given up before they even started. Others have followed the rules, graduated with prestigious degrees, were successful in their chosen fields only to “arrive” and find nothing there but themselves. “Is this all there is?” “Why bother?” “Nothing matters.”

The people who occupy the 120 beds at Beit T'Shuvah are us - our children, parents, grandchildren and even grandparents who have lost control of their lives and are broken enough to ask for help. They are Jews in bondage, enslaved to internal Pharaohs. With the help of Beit T'Shuvah’s program of integrative recovery and finding acceptance in community, they free themselves from the need to be someone else and the hopelessness that nothing matters and the despair that they are irredeemable. Through study of Torah, the Big Book of A.A., psychological and spiritual counseling and wisdom they learn that they matter; they have a Holy Soul; they can be redeemed by making t’shuvah (repentance, return) and working the steps of A.A.

At Beit T'Shuvah, residents come to find out that the process of t’shuvah and the 4th, 5th, and 6th Steps of A.A. are almost identical. For many recovering Jews it is a relief to know that A.A. is not Christian and has its roots in Jewish thought. Ironically, although most of them rejected Judaism immediately following Bar/Bat Mitzvah, they felt guilty going to meetings in church basements and balked at saying the Lord’s Prayer. Those who have tried and failed at other rehabs describe a feeling of coming home when they walk through Beit T'Shuvah’s doors. The beds are always filled, people can stay as long as they need to and no one has ever been turned away because of inability to pay.

Rabbi Mark Borovitz is the spiritual force at Beit T'Shuvah. He has been called the t’shuvah poster boy. He was a nice Jewish boy, at 16 the president of his USY group in Cleveland, at 30 serving his second term in state prison. Mark equated self worth with net worth and was drawn to the action and easy money of the gangster life. He ate and drank to escape the memory of the father he had lost at 14 and the boy who buried his own soul at his father’s funeral.

A prison chaplain, Rabbi Mel Silverman, helped him unearth his soul through studying Torah together. Mark identified with Jacob, a con man and heel who became Israel, he who wrestles with God. He saw himself in Jacob and became a God-wrestler. His passion for Torah and truth is fierce. His fervor is that of the Prophets. He is evangelical in his belief that the Torah and sacred texts of Judaism are meant to be taken personally. He teaches that if you can’t see yourself in every character, you must be hiding something from yourself. That the purpose of prayer is to look within and to know yourself – it is reflexive, not petitionary.

Rabbi Mark teaches that wrestling with God means also wrestling with the opposing parts of your self – the part that seeks to draw near to God and the part that demands immediate gratification. Judaism calls these parts Yetzer tov and Yetzer Hara, the Good and Evil Inclinations. Both come from God and both are necessary. The path back to God, to wholeness, is found in proper measure and “acting yourself into right thinking.” He teaches that the real “sin” of Adam and Eve was not their disobedience (they were given free will); their sin was hiding from God in shame and blaming one another instead of accepting responsibility.

This message that shame and blame are the only “sins” is central to the Beit T'Shuvah culture. Mistakes are not failures; we are all imperfect; transparency connects us to ourselves and each other; t’shuvah is mandatory; the goal is to walk our talk.

One of the ways we walk our talk is to treat each person as an individual – in Torah terms, to “teach each child according to his way.” This way is contrary to the bureaucratic notion that says “if we do it for one we have to do it for everyone.” Rabbi Mark teaches that we honor God by becoming our authentic, unique selves. It is, therefore, Beit T'Shuvah’s responsibility to create a culture that welcomes individual expression and an environment that provides varied opportunities for this expression.

Another of Rabbi Mark’s favorite stories is that of the disciple, seeking wisdom from the Master, who is told not just to listen to his words, but to watch how he ties his shoes. Many of us were raised with the “do as I say not as I do” message from parents and teachers, causing us to throw out the message with the messenger: “… if you can’t or won’t do it, why should I?” Hypocrisy is at the heart of rebellion, leading us to the erroneous conclusion that rebellion is freedom.

It is vital that those in charge model the change we want to see in others. This demands that we be willing to admit our fault when we are not able to practice what we preach. Over the years many residents have told me that one of their defining moments at Beit T'Shuvah was when a staff person or even the Rabbi apologized to them. It works almost like shock treatment when an “authority figure” reveals her mistakes or his vulnerabilities. Many of our residents are stuck in a black and white, either-or perception of themselves, others, and the ways of the world. They have grown up in families and institutions where power makes you right, where we learn to hide our mistakes or blame others for them. Our goal at Beit T’Shuvah is to be the Jewish family that models transparent and healing relationships.

The essential message of Judaism is that Holiness is found in wholeness. God is One - the soul is the mixing bowl where black and white turn to gray and either/or becomes both/and. The freedom to err helps overcome fears of both failure and success, and t’shuvah guarantees forgiveness.

Harriet Rossetto, LCSW was a missionary in search of a mission. Unable to find her purpose or place in the world, she found comfort in food and looked for love in all the wrong places. At a bottom moment in 1984 when life felt over, a friend insisted she accompany her to Janet Levy, the Expect a Miracle Lady who was a Science of the Mind practitioner.

“What do you want?”
“I want to know what I want,” Harriet replied.
“Do you pray?”
“No way! I’m a Jewish intellectual.”
“I’ll pray for you, then … Father of the Universe, guide this woman to her rightful work… She has something important to give and she doesn’t know what it is.” “Now you pay attention.”

Three days later when her eye caught the advertisement for a Jewish social worker to work with Jewish criminal offenders, the surge of electricity she felt convinced her that she had been divinely guided to her mission. Jewish outlaws? Every Jewish girl’s fantasy!

Harriet experienced a perceptual shift from a random, meaningless universe to a universe guided by a Divine Intelligence. This faith in a benevolent, nurturing reality helped her to sustain both vision and mission when she experienced obstacles or disappointments. Much of her prior experience with world-saving ideas or epiphanies was that they evaporated quickly and she responded by giving up. She started and abandoned many projects, each time leaving her feeling more hopeless and helpless.

Every day at the jail or prison Harriet talked to people who were just like her. They knew right and did wrong, were both generous and treacherous. They made promises to themselves and others that they couldn’t keep. They compulsively did the same things over and over, expecting different results. Harriet recognized their struggle as her own. Their extremes were more extreme; the things they did to escape or soothe themselves were illegal, but beneath the surface the struggle to become whole was identical! It felt like a prophetic vision and that she had been appointed (or anointed) to carry this message to the majority of Jews who thought they were exempt or superior. Am I the only one who knows this?

She found a midrash in a prayer book compiled by Rabbi Harold Schulweiss that told of a certain Rabbi of old who embraced thieves and murderers. He was asked by his disciples why such a pious and holy man could so easily understand these trombeniks. “It’s easy,” he said. “When I look at them I see myself and I know if I can not find myself in them I haven’t looked deep enough.” Although born Jewish, she became a Jew. This was a religion she could practice.

It was clear that she would have to heal herself in order to be a healer. As she was bombarded with extreme people who triggered extreme emotions in her she realized she would have to integrate herself in order to contain their extremes and reflect wholeness back to them.

She was in the right place at the right time. The Recovery Revolution was integrating spirituality and psychology, The Road Less Traveled was published. Co-dependency became a household word. At meetings and workshops, the inner children came out to play. The Jewish response was Jewish renewal and Jewish mysticism and meditation. Jews who had left Judaism to find spirituality in Buddhism were named JUBUS. Rabbi Abraham Twerski, an Orthodox Hasidic scholar and tzaddik and a psychiatrist running an addiction treatment program, started writing books on Judaism and the 12 Steps, explaining their similarities and the importance of spirituality in addiction treatment. It was all coming together, personal and professional, intellectual and spiritual, whole and wounded.

The spiritual trail led her to teachings about t’shuvah, the action step of redemption, repentance and return. She loved the mystical idea that t’shuvah was put into the world before God created man. T’shuvah resolved God’s dilemma of Free Will: If man were created part human and part divine, free to choose between doing God’s will or doing only his own will, he would inevitably make bad choices and need a way to restore himself to balance. The steps of t’shuvah were amazingly similar to the steps of A.A. Both required that you admit your wrongdoing, take responsibility for it, make amends to those you have harmed and have a plan to not repeat the mis-deed. The Rabbis asked, “How do you know if a person has made sincere t’shuvah? If, when facing the same situation he makes a different choice,” the same idea as “acting yourself into right thinking.” It is not words but action –the walk, not the talk – that signifies change.

The Rabbis went one step further, teaching that once t’shuvah is made and accepted that person is forgiven and should be seen as blameless. Furthermore, one who has fallen and been redeemed holds a higher place in the Divine realm than one who has never fallen. Harriet chose the name, Beit T'Shuvah, the House of Return, for the house she would open for Jewish addicts, outlaws and offenders.

Soon after Beit T'Shuvah opened its doors, Mark and Harriet were brought together by Rabbi Mel Silverman at Chino State Prison. His prison congregation had heard about this Jewish half-way house and they had a lot of questions for Harriet Rossetto. The Rabbi’s inmate clerk, Mark Borovitz, was particularly interested and appointed himself spokesperson for the inmates. Did she know what they needed? The obstacles they faced? Harriet challenged Mark to come and help when he was released and a few months later he showed up. Their energies combined to nurture their individual spiritual and emotional growth, their growth as a partnership and the growth of Beit T'Shuvah. One and one became three.

Together they discovered Rabbi Jonathan Omer-Man, a Jewish Holy Man who had been brought to Los Angeles to de-program Jewish kids who had been seduced by cults. He wisely decided to re-program Judaism to stem the flow of Jews seeking spirituality outside of Judaism, particularly in Buddhism. Roger Kamenir wrote a book called the Jew in the Lotus, and another called Stalking Elijah, which had a chapter on Mark referring to him as a mystical master. They both met with the Dalai Lama and the denomination, JUBU, was added to the list. Jonathan taught classes in meditation and mysticism and was available for spiritual counseling. Mark and Harriet both “fell in love” with Jonathan and through him, fell in love with each other.

Jonathan embodied intellect and wisdom, devotion and irreverence. Although crippled by polio and dependent on crutches, he walked his talk and helped them do the same. “Most people go to psychiatrists for what are essentially spiritual problems;” “suffering is voluntary, pain is essential;” “happiness is an obligation” were life-altering insights. Jonathan knew their souls and knew what teachings and spiritual practices each of them needed: Mark vibrated to the warriors and Prophets, Harriet resonated to the peacemakers and Psalmists. (Later he would teach them how to be a couple and still be free.)

They were enthusiastic students, on fire with learning and missionary zeal. They passed on Jonathan’s teaching to their students at Beit T'Shuvah and witnessed transformation in them.

Mark and Harriet married in 1990. Harriet received the Visions in Philanthropy Award in 1999; Mark was ordained as a Rabbi by the University of Judaism in 2000. Harriet always gets a laugh when she tells the audience, “I finally meet a Jewish bad boy, and he becomes a Rabbi!!”

The tent in the backyard of the House on Lake Street was the first Beit T'Shuvah Shul. During the week the flaps were rolled up and it was the communal space for meetings and eatings. Friday night it transformed into a holy space reminiscent of our desert ancestors’. The Ma tovu prayer, How Goodly Are Your Tents, O Jacob, took on special significance as the community came together in prayer. The surrounding area was gang and crime infested and the prayers were often punctuated with the rat-a-tat-tat of gunfire.

Word of this unusual Shabbat service spread uptown and mini-missions from Jewish Federation and mainstream synagogues joined the Beit T'Shuvah community for services. A few of the early residents were the children and grandchildren of influential people in the philanthropic Jewish community. They were moved by what they experienced and got behind the mission. The first few brought other visionary leaders to Beit T'Shuvah and a Board of Directors was formed under the leadership of Warren Breslow, a real estate developer and President of his mainstream reform synagogue, and Annette Shapiro and her husband, Leonard, centers of influence at Federation and a host of other charities. Their mission was to move the program to a larger space with a “real” shul with protection from the cold, the rain and the bullets. They started a capital campaign, brought others to the tent and soon raised $5 million for a new Beit T'Shuvah.

The search for a property began. Our first attempted purchase was boycotted by the neighborhood association that was afraid their homes would lose value if that “garbage” moved in. Harriet and Warren were practically pelted with rotten tomatoes when they addressed the Homeowners’ Association to allay their fears. On November 10, 1999, men and women from Lake Street moved into the new Beit T'Shuvah at 8831 Venice Boulevard, a newly renovated, freshly painted and warmly decorated space large enough to hold 120 residents.

A real shul with stained glass windows, hand carved ark and bimah was designed and donated by the Maltz family. At capacity, the shul can hold 300 people. For High Holidays, in recent years, Congregation Beit T'Shuvah has had to schedule two services to accommodate all its residents, graduates, their families and an expanding group of “normies” who are attracted by the music, the energy and the opportunity to witness the miracles of transformation that take place before their eyes.

Mark and Harriet became speakers at synagogues, camps and community groups. They brought recovering residents with them to tell their stories and let people know that it could happen to them or their children. Their stories were eerily similar… “I was brought up in a nice Jewish family in Beverly Hills (Encino, Tarzana). My father’s a doctor (lawyer, chief); I was Bar-Bat Mitzvahed and started getting high in high school. I’m the Black Sheep of my family; I always felt like I didn’t belong.” The stories of their parents also sounded similar… “We gave him/her everything; we raised all our children the same; my other son’s a lawyer, what did we do wrong? We’re ashamed, embarrassed to show our face in public… we thought we’d be visiting him at Harvard, not at Rehab or County Jail.”

Sol G, father of Jerry, shook his fist at God in Rabbi Mark’s office. “…I worked around the clock, started when I was 15, so my son could have all the advantages I never had. I sent him to Law school, he was successful, had it all… I was sure he would have a better life than I had. Some life: in prison. How could this be? Is God punishing me?”

Mark and Harriet were equally puzzled and searched for answers. Biblical metaphors seemed to work. Addiction was our modern Egypt; we worshipped golden calves; in the land of plenty we were never satisfied; the more we had the more we wanted; children who had been given everything valued nothing and were throwing away their lives.

Mark and Harriet talked about these concepts with Beit T'Shuvah families and families in the community who felt they were exempt from such problems. They saw the need for a program of prevention - a spiritual, not a drug education approach. If Judaism could help people recover their souls, why couldn’t it prevent the loss of them? What was missing from Jewish education that so many of the pre-teens they talked to said they only went to religious school for the Bar/Bat Mitzvah… really for the party and the presents! Bar Mitzvah, meant to signify one’s entrance into Jewish life, had become the exit!

Where and how did it all go so wrong? If, as Rabbi Dr. Abe Twerski wrote, spirituality is the “Vitamin C” for the “scurvy” of addiction and other miseries, maybe spirituality could mitigate some of the anguish of adolescence and family dysfunction. Was it possible to reframe and repackage Judaism as a “program of recovery” from the psychic pain of human-being-ness? “For to be human is to be incomplete, let yearn for completion; it is to be uncertain, but to long for certainty; to be imperfect, yet long for perfection; to be broken, yet crave wholeness.”

It seemed clear that the original intention of all religion was to help humans to be their best, to unify themselves and to be able to connect with others through right action and right thinking. The observances, laws and rituals were the means to elevate and integrate your being and to have better connection with yourself, others and God. Somehow that had gotten lost and they had become ends in themselves, empty of meaning. Too many of the people we were meeting, others we know, and even our former selves, had fled practicing Judaism, believing it to be irrelevant, punishing, restrictive and insular.

Harriet had rebelled against religion after confirmation as a part of her rebellion against middle class, bourgeois values. Mark had closed the door on the Judaism he had loved growing up when he was denied admission to shul on Yom Kippur because he didn’t have a ticket. He had come to say Kaddish for his father.

Jews seemed to love being Jewish (describing themselves as cultural Jews, gastronomic Jews, twice-a-year Jews) but they didn’t seem to like practicing Judaism. They (we) were running away from the immigrant religion of our ancestors, chasing modernity and the certainties of science. We substituted the pursuit of pleasure for purpose and lost ourselves in the process. We are filling the “hole in the soul” with prescribed and illegal substances, self-help panaceas and compulsive consumption in order to feel alive or to soothe our stress and we are all still unhappy. Even the affiliated or observant Jews often miss the metaphors and/or the message of the Holidays, Shabbos and life-cycle events. They may do the rituals correctly, prepare elaborate meals, but place more emphasis on Koshering their houses than on Koshering their lives. They clean out the chometz from the house but not from themselves.

The Holidays that “twice-a-year” Jews observe are Passover, Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. Passover is a family gathering celebrated at home, and, in the words of Rabbi Jonathan Omer-Man, is for Jews like Thanksgiving with matzos. Even when the Hagadah is read it is most often read as an ancient, literal account of Jews getting out of bondage and doesn’t include the personal soul-searching that requires us to see ourselves as if we have come out of Egypt. Egypt, Mitzrayim, literally means narrow places. What are the narrow places within that continue to enslave us? As Rabbi Ed Feinstein has said: “It’s easy to get the Jews out of Egypt, but it’s harder to get the Egypt out of the Jews.”

At High Holidays the synagogues are crowded and there is an aura of solemnity. However, even those who recite the prayers and fast on Yom Kippur rarely do the personal inventory of wrongdoing and amends that is the heart of the process of t’shuvah.

Mark and Harriet heard the rumblings of Jewish renewal and read about the committees being formed to ensure Jewish continuity and to revitalize Judaism. They felt they held an important piece of the puzzle: evidence-based results that Jewish teachings, presented in a certain way, had the power to transform and heal broken souls. Could they extract and present these key concepts to young people to help them make better life choices and protect them from the seduction of quick fixes?

The stories they were hearing from recovering addicts were remarkably similar: “I started in junior high school; I got drunk at my Bar/Bat Mitzvah; I was the black sheep in my family; my brothers/sisters are successful; I felt I never fit in.” Despite their talents and/or accomplishments, they all had a distorted perception of their value: they believed their worth was extrinsic, related to how they looked or what they owned. They also felt their worth was conditional, based on perfect performance and that it was comparative, better or worse than others. This perception of value is a direct contradiction of Jewish teaching.

Mark and Harriet and a team of Jewish educators selected a few key teachings that illustrated concepts related to identity, authenticity, self-worth, loss of control and the conflict between good and evil. They joined with a curriculum development company, The Change Companies, to integrate the Jewish content with a generic interactive journaling format for Jewish educators. Partners in Prevention (addiction prevention through Jewish education) is a 6-module curriculum for teens and parents with a facilitator’s guide. The Beit T'Shuvah team of Rabbi, family therapist and recovering addicts can deliver the program directly or train the educators to deliver it.

The first module, Who Am I Today, begins with the story of Reb Zusya, who said to his disciples, “When I go before my Maker I am not worried that He will ask me, ‘Why were you not more like Moses?’ I am only worried He will ask, ‘Why were you not more like Zusya?’” This is a powerful re-enforcement of the need to be authentic and to not compare oneself to others.

TThe remaining modules deal with values, personal inventory, relationships, faith and alcohol and drugs. This original outreach program teaches Judaism as a path to promote self-acceptance, self-worth, spiritual values and family harmony.

The residents, alumni and staff of Beit T'Shuvah have created an inspirational musical performance event called Freedom Song, which portrays emotionally their common experience with addiction and the impact on their families. The play uses the metaphor of Passover to tell the story of personal enslavement to substances, activities, people, places and things. It has been performed locally and throughout the United States at synagogues and youth groups and has moved people emotionally and opened up channels of communication in families.

Beit T'Shuvah has attracted a vigorous Board of influential, philanthropic leaders of the Jewish Community of Los Angeles and is an affiliated and respected agency of the Jewish Federation.

Community support has been generous financially and with donations of goods and services. Hal Wiseman, a grateful Board Member, has devoted time and energy to building House of Return, a successful thrift shop business.

The Gala committee every year organizes a major fund raiser which nets a million dollars and attracts over 1,000 people. Other Board members organize an annual Golf tournament, attend Shabbat and Holiday services, promote the Prevention Program, teach classes, provide clinical and psychiatric services, hire residents and graduates and support Beit T'Shuvah in every way.

At Beit T’Shuvah we live a life of obligation. These obligations are Covenants. A covenant is an agreement between humans and God. As Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel says, “We can betray our covenant with God but we can never sever it.” So too do we make these covenants with each other, our organization and God. To achieve unity and wholeness as an organization and individual, we have established corresponding Sacred Actions to help shape, guide, clarify and interpret our behavior and conduct every day.

The Beit T'Shuvah Covenants and Sacred Actions

Covenant	Sacred Action
Our Integrative treatment modality for joyous living is based on Judaism, the 12-Steps and Psychotherapy.	At Beit T'Shuvah we teach each person according to their own understanding and need. We speak to people in ways that they can hear. We are careful to not put a stumbling block before the blind and to not give ourselves and/or another the “easy way out.” We are open and seeking to use the approach that works best for each individual soul.
We are committed to placing Jewish Spiritual Principles before personalities.	One of our Beit T’Shuvah mottos is: Do the next right thing, no matter how you think, feel or who you like. At Mount Sinai, we were not asked how we felt about the 10 Commandments, we were given them and our response was Na’Aseh V’Nishma, we will do and then we will understand the doing. Judaism is based on obligations. The primary obligation is to care for oneself and one’s fellow. We are even told to care for our enemy! Therefore, our obligations trump our feelings.
Our obligation to T’Shuvah: repentance, return and new responses, is our Spiritual Foundation.	In our tradition we are taught that we are supposed to do T’Shuvah one day before we die and since none of us know the day of our death, we must do T’Shuvah each day. This is an obligation/commandment. Doing T’Shuvah means that I take a daily inventory of what I do well, what I need to improve and what I am grateful for. I commit to practice accountability and responsibility, thereby promoting an atmosphere of humility and continuing to grow as an individual and help the organization grow as well.
We believe that each person is a Holy Soul and is created in the Image of God.	We look for the reflection of God in each individual, including ourselves. We remember that even though one may not always act Holy, we/they are still Holy Souls. As part of the Beit T'Shuvah community we continue to see each person for who they are, not who we want them to be. We commit to help each person find their proper place in the world so they can live their Holiness and enhance themselves, our organization and their corner of the world.
We recognize that we are created with two inclinations; Divine and Earthly. We know that each one has its purpose and we are committed to having both of them serve God, Beit T'Shuvah, the community and ourselves.	We integrate both inclinations through our integrative model of recovery and help others do the same. We do this by using proper measure in our actions. We take the proper amount of time and energy at work, at home, at play with family, community and in our relationship with God. We do not try and “kill” or deny any part of us, we heal the parts of us that are out of proper measure, accepting that every part/trait we possess comes from God and has good use in the world and in our living well.
We are committed to living a life of transparency, acknowledging that each action matters.	We own and take responsibility for our commitments and actions without blaming others. Beit T'Shuvah is a community that lives and embraces imperfection. We do not hide from others our good and our not so good actions. We remember that each action we take impacts God, others and ourselves – some positively and some negatively. We no longer worry about what the neighbors will think, rather we seek to enhance our creativity and teamwork. We give and receive appropriate feedback without guilt and/or shame because we accept that we are all working to strengthen the work of Beit T'Shuvah.
We agree with Rabbi Hillel the Elder: What is hateful (harmful) to you do not do unto another. We agree to be responsible to this principle.	We err on the side of kindness and compassion and give everyone the benefit of the doubt. We understand that kindness and compassion are not the same as permissiveness. We follow God’s command that there is one law for the citizen (member/guide) and the newcomer.
We believe that Rules exist to serve people and obligate ourselves to living this principle.	Like our ancestors, we recognize that our rules are for us to live better, not for one or a small group to have power over others. We also recognize that within each rule there are a number of ways of following it. No two people are going to follow the path in the same way and we celebrate the uniqueness of each individual. We also weigh the best interests of the individual and the community in our decision making.
We role model the change we want to see in ourselves and others.	We commit to walk our talk recognizing that no one is perfect. We continue to be mindful of our obligations to grow one grain of sand more decent each day. We follow the example of Moses, Aaron, Joshua and Caleb who continuously exhorted the Israelites to live at the top of their individual and communal abilities in the moment.

BARBARA FRIEDMAN: My Life's Journey

My life’s career was supposed to be as an elementary school teacher. It’s all I wanted to do growing up and after college, I started out to follow my dream. In doing that, however, I discovered that there were children who had learning problems which prohibited them from the most basic of skills – reading. So I went back to school and got a Master’s Degree in Remedial Reading. I continued as a remedial reading teacher and was extremely gratified to see children’s worlds open up when they learned how to read.

At that time in New Jersey however, funding for the specialized teaching positions started to become scarce. I continued to work, but only for 6 months a year. Going through a divorce and ultimately living alone, I needed better financial security. Unfortunately, I had to leave teaching and I moved into the corporate world. I worked for many years at Merrill Lynch in New York, as the assistant to the vice president of operations. I enjoyed being the “right arm” to someone and my organizational skills were a great benefit.

For various reasons, I stayed in those positions even through my move to Southern California in 1990. I worked at Times Mirror, the parent company of the LA Times for 7 years as the assistant to the vice president of communications and then as the assistant to the CEO of a television production company. However, as I mentioned, life never turns out the way you expect it to and I was about to experience that with many changes – and although it was a long and difficult path, the results are amazing.

During college, I had been in a car accident and through the years I became addicted to the pain medication I was given. There are many theories about drug addiction and I’ve learned about all of them, but what I know is that I am a drug addict and I have the “disease” that I cannot stop once I start. I had times of brief sobriety and kept up at my jobs but I always ended up relapsing and entering another rehab. There seemed to be no end to this miserable back and forth existence.

In 2000, I unfortunately ended up in county jail as a result of my addiction. Me. A nice Jewish girl from a wonderful family. A college graduate. I was not sure where I was headed in life after that, but it was bad – my family had removed themselves from my life and things looked bleak.

But now comes the first of my “life-changing” experiences. One day while I was in jail, I was called to meet someone. It was a woman from Beit T’Shuvah, a rehabilitation program that actually looks for Jewish men and women in jails. They knew that Jewish people did suffer from the disease of alcoholism and drug addiction (although it has been and is still believed to be quite a “secret” sometimes) and that they deserved a chance to return to life and start over.

Beit T’Shuvah, the “House of Return,” had been established to combine the traditions and spirituality of Judaism, the 12 Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous and traditional psychotherapy. One of their main philosophies is that they never turn away anyone due to lack of money. Beit T’Shuvah offered me a chance to go there and start over. I had no money and they didn’t care. I had another court case facing me and they didn’t care – in fact, they came to court and advocated on my behalf for alternative sentencing. The court agreed.

I went to Beit T’Shuvah in September of 2000 and stayed for 11 months even though I had an apartment to return to. But I had found something – something that helped heal the hole in my soul and fix my “dis-ease”. I felt connected again – to myself, to my Judaism and to a community. After I completed the initial primary program, Beit T’Shuvah helped me find a job at the Jewish Federation. I then returned to a previous job at a television production company and eventually moved on to Goldrich & Kest Industries, where I worked for the president of the property management division. Again, this was another job that Beit T’Shuvah helped steer me to. I worked at Goldrich & Kest for four years and stayed connected to Beit T’Shuvah, going back for Shabbos services and helping out by facilitating groups for the new residents. And I continue to celebrate my sobriety birthdays there – in July, God willing, I will have 8 years clean and sober – the longest time I have ever had since 1983.

Now comes another “life-changing experience.” In late 2006, I started feeling like I needed a job change – I felt like I wasn’t being challenged enough. Just when I was thinking about going back to teaching, I received a call from Rabbi Borovitz at Beit T’Shuvah. He offered me a job in their development office. I had always wanted to work there, but I was unsure in what capacity. Maybe this was it.

Timing is everything. I started working there in November of 2006 and I can honestly say I love my job – something I haven’t said since I was a teacher. Every day is different as I put my skills to use as well as learn new things. I really have a feeling of contributing to an organization and not “just being an assistant.” Plus, I get to take advantage of all the benefits of this great place again on a daily basis. What’s so great is that I truly believe in Beit T’Shuvah and what they offer – since they saved my life – so it is almost natural for me to work in development and try and raise money for this wonderful and important organization.

There has been one more “life-changing” experience. In May of 2007, Nina Lieberman-Giladi, Dean of The Graduate School at American Jewish University, came to Beit T’Shuvah and told our director, Harriet Rossetto, that we had been chosen as one of the five non-profit agencies that would be able to select a staff member who might benefit from their MBA program. I was honored to be the person Harriet thought of.

As much as I never thought I would be returning to school at this point in my life, I knew that I couldn’t pass on this wonderful opportunity. By getting my MBA in Non-Profit Management, I can only add to my life and my learning and to what I can offer to Beit T’Shuvah. I feel like this process can help me come full-circle – I can now give back to Beit T’Shuvah what they gave to me. I believe that all of these “life-changing” experiences have been “beshert” and are things not to be ignored.

RACHEL’S STORY

Being of service is one of the most rewarding opportunities one can experience. Giving back to a community - especially one which you are especially grateful to - is not only humbling but truly life-shaping.

I grew up as a good kid. I had a passion for singing, and started developing a talent at a young age that allowed me to be on some of Los Angeles’ most prestigious stages: The Dorothy Chandler Pavilion, The Hollywood Bowl, and the Pasadena Civic Auditorium. I sang in elite choral ensembles, was an AP student, active in my Temple Youth Group, and got accepted to really good colleges. Even when I started college, things went swimmingly. I sang in groups as a freshman that were only open to seniors and Grad Students before me, and was awarded every solo that was up for grabs. Everyone told me that I had “such great potential.”

It would be nice to say that since I was the President of my TYG in high school, I have been working at soup kitchens and homeless shelters, but my life was not like that. This is not that kind of essay. My current position as a leader and one of service required a long journey. The Talmud says “where the repentant stand, not even the most saintly can reach.” Allow me to explain where I stand now.

In November of 2006, I entered Beit T’shuvah for what I can at most euphemistically call a ‘spiritually crisis,’ but more realistically refer to as the deepest emotional hole of depression, despair, and worthlessness I have ever experienced. I had been slowly growing into an angry, resentful person; I had quit singing to spite the world, and eventually my withdrawal of my voice grew into my complete withdrawal from the world. I didn’t go to my college classes, I didn’t call up friends to say hi, and I lied to my family, telling them that I was “feeling fine."

In reality, I hardly ever left my apartment unless it was the late night hours, when all the Hollywood clubs were open. In my mind, without the “see and be seen” of the scene, I would disappear completely. However, I had already disappeared on the inside. I was miserable, depressed, and had basically lost the will to live. My life was a tiring charade of daily trying to “prove” to the world that I was cool, that I was happy; that I didn’t need anyone else. What I knew deep down was that wasn’t true: I needed help.

Since my early days as a resident, I have been continuing daily to learn what is to be of service. It started with the one thing that I knew that I could do well: sing. It was the only thing I thought that I had to offer, so in order to give back to the community, I began singing a few songs at Shabbat services. This added to the experience for all the congregants in attendance. However, the more I learned about myself in this crucial time of soul-searching, the more things I found that I could offer to the world around me. Being organized, I offered to re-do the choir books for high holidays. I spent 40 hours over six weeks photocopying and tabbing and hole-punching. I think that it is these small, behind-the-scene tasks in which no recognition is expected that truly shapes us.

In September of 2007, I was offered a position at Beit T’shuvah. While my position was initially just data-entry in the development office, I devoted most of my off-hours to any department that needed me. I continued to organize choir folders. I sang whenever I was asked. I helped recovering addicts in the Music in Recovery program learn music for the choir. I arranged for an a capella vocal ensemble to sing at our gala, helping our fundraiser far surpass our financial goal. Because of all this, my actual job duties changed and I was given much more responsibility. I began to manage the Rabbi’s calendar, and even was given the official title of Cantorial soloist, gratefully having the fantastic opportunity to fill in for the Cantor whenever she went out of town.

I began to learn my limits when I was asked to be the tour coordinator for when Beit T’shuvah’s original musical, Freedom Song (of which I am also a cast member) took its performances on the road to the greater New York/New Jersey area. Planning a trip for 28 alcoholics was no small task, but I didn’t mind. I worked well over 50 hours each week to arrange every logistic, strategize all solutions to any possible problems I could come up with, and even put special touches like arranging for a catered breakfast for the entire cast before we all left for the airport (at 3:45am!). It was a rare opportunity to channel all the love and gratitude I have for Beit T’shuvah and their Music in Recovery Program into a successful tour, and also the first large project I have ever truly taken pride in.

Being of service has allowed me to see all of my positive traits and allowed me to apply them to helping others. It has helped me to know that I am an important member of society, because I have learned that my presence on this earth has already changed the lives of many. It has transformed me into a woman who not only knows her value, but who is more than willing to share it with her community. It has, also, in turn, given me career opportunities that I would not have imagined that I could ever have had before.

Today I have motivation, ambition, pride, humility, employability, love, and purpose in my life. I am the woman that I have always wanted to look up to.

ANDREW WASSER – Family Program Director

I was born and raised in the city of Los Angeles. After receiving a B.F.A. from the California Institute of the Arts, I began a 10-year career in the entertainment business. Although I enjoyed professional success as a script writer and actor, I was leading a very unhealthy and unlawful way of life. The Hollywood scene was not spirituality fulfilling and ended up separating me from those who mattered most in my life. In the end, I understood what I was truly meant to do – to make more of a difference in the world around me.

I decided to go back to school and I completed a Masters in psychology and became a licensed intern marriage and family therapist. Two years ago, I found myself working at Beit T'Shuvah as a volunteer therapist, helping others in the struggle of addiction. In the process of getting my hours to be a licensed therapist, I realized that this is where I belonged. This is where I felt at home.

Today, I am the Family Program Director here at Beit T'Shuvah. I spearhead the Family Wellness Program and established the Surf Therapy group – every Friday morning, I join residents on the beach in Santa Monica. We drift out to sea to experience the sunrise on the water and return to pray and wrap t’fillin.

Over the years, I have managed to find a balance between the dark and the light. Through spirituality and eastern philosophies, I have learned how to lead a healthy life and discovered my true passion for surfing and meditation. This transformation involved my working on more then just myself. It was essential for my family and loved ones to be involved and part of this journey. This is why the Family Wellness Program is vital to the future of Beit T'Shuvah and our surrounding community

We all know that addiction is a family disease. The first step to helping the family of an addict is to differentiate between support and enmeshment. After that, it is all reliant upon the work everyone does an individuals. It is essential for the family to do work independently because as each resident grows and changes, the family must do the same. Each side must bring their best self to the equation. It is only then that the family can become well rounded and healthy.

The problem is that most families and communities choose to seek help only in times of crisis. I believe that The Family Wellness is a form of family and adult addiction prevention. Like our Partners In Prevention program, we need to be out there promoting healthy developmental skills and positive family dynamics. We should be preventing people from ever having to become a resident here at Beit T'Shuvah. We adults tend to spend a great deal of time working on our jobs or our hobbies, but never take the time to work on ourselves. A well rounded family takes work - it takes a conscious effort. All families have some type of dysfunction, and just like addicts, families can find comfort in this unhealthy pattern.

I am very excited and proud to spearhead the newest endeavor here at Beit T'Shuvah. My goal is to see more families make a conscious effort to improve their family dynamic and prevent unnecessary suffering.

ARLENE FORD: Diary Of A Recovering Jewish American Princess

I was born, for the first time, in 1947. Yes, that makes me 61 years old. If I were an evangelical, I’d tell you I was re-born on December 25, 2002. This is the day I got clean and sober. Christmas Day was a fluke; I didn’t choose it as the day to reclaim my soul. It chose me. I received my last dose of Methadone (synthetic heroin) on December 24th. I was 55 at the start of my second go-around at life.

My name is Arlene and I am most definitely an addict. They say, if it walks like a duck, quacks like a duck… it must be. And I am (an addict, that is). Actually, in the parlance of the recovery community, I’m a junkie. Ugly word, junkie. And that’s what active addiction is… ugly. I am a widow, mother, grandmother, daughter, and sister. I am also the office & donations administrator for Beit T’Shuvah’s House of Return Thrift Store. I am all of these people rolled up in one, the dark and now the light.

I am a recovering addict of the Jewish American Princess variety. I have survived damn near everything and lived to tell about it. I am a survivor of the holocaust that is addiction. My transparency may make you uncomfortable, and that’s okay. Because in the pain, there was change. Life affirming change.

I’m a New York girl. I grew up in very privileged surroundings on the North Shore of Long Island - very functional and loving family. Can’t hang anything on them (as much as I tried in later years). This was all on me. I married a wonderful man when we were 21; we had two amazing and bright sons. My husband became a senior partner in a large Wall Street firm. Again, living the life of privilege and all the stuff. We had all the trappings: home, cars, vacations, private schools. Looking very good on the outside. Nothing going on on the inside. Harriet Rossetto calls it the syndrome of a human do-ing… instead of a human be-ing. I have always found Harriet to be spot on. In essence, the problem was a spiritual void.

I am somewhat unusual in that I began my active addiction at the age of 34. Somehow, I came through the ‘60’s never having smoked pot, nor did I drink. And suddenly, at 34, I experienced a herniated disc. It was at that point that I was given my first opiate: Percodan. It became an instant love affair… a where-have-you-been-all-my-life type of affair. I crossed the line between medical need to active addiction within 3 short weeks. I now know that I was actually an addict in waiting long before I ever ingested my first drug. That’s the spiritual void. The drug filled the hole in my gut. For the first time, I felt warm and secure. I felt “normal”…or what I perceived normal to be. You see, as much as addiction is a spiritual void, it’s also a disease of perception. My perception of almost anything and everything was highly distorted. Nothing was ever enough. I sought drugs to make me whole.

I looked like anything but what I was. I looked like a nice, 34 year-old, upper-middle class, suburban matron. I dressed well. Spoke well. Drove the right car. Was married to a professional. Was the mother of two beautiful sons. Knew the physician on a personal basis, having gone to school with his daughter. I was also Jewish and we know that Jews aren’t alcoholics and addicts. We just know, don’t we? At least, in 1981, we thought we knew that. I had, in effect, all the proper credentials. The credential they didn’t know about was that I was now a junkie. Thus, began my Percodan years. Seven years.

I lied and I manipulated. I stole checks from the back of the checkbook. I started dipping into my children’s college funds and our IRAs. I hid bills in big plastic garbage bags. I was living a lie of the soccer-mom who was a junkie. Sometime during this period I noticed, although none too clearly, that my husband was drinking more heavily. I noticed… and frankly didn’t care. I reasoned that if I called him on his behavior, he would challenge me on mine. Addicts always protect themselves. We’re self-absorbed that way. Thus began our years of the elephant in the room… never speaking to my addiction nor to his alcoholism. Elephants tend to get very large in silence. Taxes weren’t paid to the tune of $975,000.

On May 10, 1988, I ran out of Percodan. I was ahead of myself in prescriptions. I was dope sick. I was running out of the doctor-and-pharmacy game. And I had just the answer. Heroin. And on that morning, I found myself cruising the “hood”(in a Mercedes). I had no idea how to “cop” on the street nor what to do with heroin should I find it, but guaranteed, I would have figured it out. That’s the ugly truth of active opiate addiction. You do whatever it takes to “get well.”

Instead of heroin, I made yet another very seriously wrong decision. I went to a Methadone clinic in 1988. I upped the ante. I thought that Methadone was the answer to my prayers. Thought it was G-d's gift. It was legal. The government said so. It was cheap when compared to sustaining a Percodan addiction. The effects were long-lasting when compared to a short-acting opioid. No highs and lows. It was, as the Clinic told me, the same as a diabetic taking insulin. It was "medical treatment." I wouldn't have to lie or manipulate to get it. They said I had an endorphin deficiency and that Methadone was the answer. Aaah… a junkie with an endorphin deficiency. Just what I wanted and needed to hear.

Sounded good to me. Sounded like the easier softer way. It indeed proved to be very wrong!

I was caught in a far worse trap. My life began to spiral downward in earnest. I gained an enormous amount of weight - by the end of the 15 years, a total of 110 pounds. I craved and ate nothing but sweets. I had no energy, total lethargy. Depressed. No motivation. My blood pressured soared. My teeth began to fall out. My joints ached. I nodded out mid-sentence. My memory was non-existent. Relationships of the intimate variety were impossible. I cared about - cared for - nothing. No life issues were faced. I awoke every morning with no thought on my mind except to “get well.”

I was at the height of denial and fantasy. The denial that my life was being flushed down the toilet. Our home was repossessed. My husband was fired for alcoholism by his law partners. The IRS seized every dime we had. My husband wrapped a telephone cord around my neck and I chose to do nothing about it. Fear.

Four-thirty a.m., March 1st, 2000, and he died. My husband died in my arms. The autopsy would show that death was caused by an esophageal variceal hemorrhage. A hemorrhage caused by alcoholism. The doctors in the emergency room didn’t formally pronounce him dead until a little before 5 a.m., but I already knew at 4:30. The process took all of 3 minutes. I was married for 31 years… and then I wasn’t.

He had awakened during the night, the first time at about 3 a.m. Confused, incoherent. I called 911. By the time the EMTs responded, he had rallied and refused treatment. Nothing I could say or do would change his mind. The paramedics left assuring me that, should I need them again, they would return. I did… need them again.

He awakened the second, and last time, at about 4:20 a.m. Same symptoms. I ran to the kitchen for the portable phone. Somehow, he had managed to maneuver his way into the bathroom where I found him slumped, naked, on the toilet. He was wedged between the toilet and the tub. Unconscious. I attempted to follow the instructions I received from 911 to resuscitate him; to extricate him and deliver CPR. As I put my arms around his abdomen to lift him, blood poured out of his mouth and nose. It was a torrent of blood. I couldn’t find his mouth. Within minutes, the EMTs returned, this time with two New York State Troopers.

I was pushed into our bedroom, my presence in the bathroom a clear distraction. They needed to try and do their jobs, although at that point, there was no longer any job to do. For some reason, while in the bedroom, my gaze fell on the mattress. His side of the bed was wet and stained with urine. I don’t know why I recall this.

They wheeled him out of the house on a gurney. His body was covered by a sheet, although his face was not. But I knew. I knew he was dead. The State Trooper bundled me into his car and we followed the ambulance to the hospital. The sirens wailed in the early morning hours. He waited with me outside of the ER. Within minutes, a physician came out of the back treatment area. “Mrs. Ford, I’m so sorry. Your husband is dead.” “Doctor, you don’t understand. He was only 52.” I didn’t understand.

“Mrs. Ford, do you want to go in the back and say goodbye to him?” And somehow I found myself in a rear treatment room, alone, looking at him lying on a table. The room was cold. He was cold. I needed to kiss him. But why had they left an intubation tube sticking out of his mouth? How could I touch his lips? No doctor. No nurse. I pulled the tube out and throwing it on the tile floor, kissed him one final time, and then pulled the sheet up over his face.

Exiting, I found the State Trooper still waiting for me. He drove me home, in silence, no siren. As we entered the house, we both passed the bathroom, now looking like the remnants of a M.A.S.H. triage-staging area. Blood was everywhere. Bits and pieces remained from the paramedics’ frantic efforts: bandages, used hypodermics, EKG conductors, tape, plastic tubing. I walked into the bedroom. The 6’ trooper, wearing highly polished motorcycle boots, followed me in. He said softly, “Mrs. Ford, where are your paper towels? Do you have some type of cleaner?” On automatic pilot, I replied, “Under the sink,” never really wondering why he was asking me these questions.

Not wanting to look at the empty bed, I left the bedroom again. Probably walking in circles. As I passed the bathroom I realized this man - in his immaculate uniform - was on his hands and knees scrubbing. Scrubbing out, scrubbing away, the final moments of horror. “No, please. You don’t have to do that,” I said. “Yes, Mrs. Ford, I do. I’m doing for you what I hope someone would do for my wife.” Exit an unnamed trooper.

And there I stood. Alone. No violins playing in the background. No symphony with a groundswell of “Gonna’ Get Along Without Ya’ Now” or “All by Myself.” Dead silence except for the screaming in my head. It screamed, “Oh G-d…Why?”

So, what of today? How did I get to Beit T’Shuvah? Well, not a pretty story, which is not unusual for addicts who have bottomed out. My sons had moved me to SoCal following my husband’s death. I continued to get loaded on Methadone, sleeping pills and anti depressants. And one day, I misjudged, as most addicts eventually do. I drove in a blackout and crashed my car. I found myself in a shopping center in Garden Grove. How or why I ended up there, I still can’t tell you to this day.

I should have been arrested, but was not. When my sons saw the police report, they drew their line in the sand. They were done. “Your drugs or your family, Mom. Your choice.” And the power of my disease was such that I actually said, “Hey now… give me a minute. Hmmm… my family or my drugs? How long do I get to consider this?” Fortunately, and I believe it was G-d working in my life, I made the right decision. I went into Tarzana Treatment Center to detox from Methadone.

Only problem was Tarzana had never had a patient coming off of 250 mg of Methadone after 15 years. I was also no spring chicken. They didn’t really know what to do with me. Nor did I have any money or insurance. And once again, G-d intervened. The County of LA and the State of California picked up my entire treatment. I was now indigent and homeless. I was hospitalized in the detox unit for 5½ months; from August 20, 2002 until January 27, 2003. I hold the dubious distinction of being Tarzana’s longest standing detox patient.

I won’t bore you with what it took to physically kick the Methadone except to say, without drama, that I wanted to die. If I had been given access to a compact with a mirror, I would have done the deal. The sole detail I will share is that my immune system went into shock from the withdrawal. The only medication that worked was a chemo therapy drug. So, while being withdrawn from Methadone, I was also placed on a chemo drug. The combination was not pretty.

I stumbled through Beit T’Shuvah’s front doors on January 28, 2003. Little did I know that I had come home for good. As I walked in the door, the first words that greeted me were, “Welcome home.” I came with 2 suitcases, no money, no car, no cell phone, no job, no health insurance, no friends… and no teeth. In the vernacular of recovery, tore up from the floor up. On the brink of pushing a shopping cart down the street, I entered with no hope. I also came with no key ring because nothing in my life required keys.

Beit T’Shuvah has remained my home since that time. When Beit T’Shuvah hired me five years ago, Hal Wiseman handed me the key to the thrift store and the key to the cash register. I remember looking at those two dumb keys and thinking, this is a miracle.

A few months back, when I went to the mechanic to have my car repaired, I asked him to separate my car key from my main key ring. He looked at the key ring and said, “Mrs. Ford, you have too many keys on this ring. You’re going to damage the starter motor. It’s too heavy.” An amazing statement to a woman who had no keys six years ago. He was looking at the weight of my sobriety, the trust and integrity it has brought.

Beit T’Shuvah nurtured me back to health physically, emotionally and spiritually. I have returned to claim my place in my family and in society because of Beit T’Shuvah. Beit T’Shuvah has given me back the keys to my soul. I came late to this party called life… and G-d cried for many years. Today, G-d no longer spills tears for me. Today, I make a difference in the world.

There is no hidden agenda at Beit T’Shuvah. The only agenda is healing. And for each addict and alcoholic who is healed, the fabric of a family is re-woven. And I will beg your forgiveness and ask that you pardon my chutzpa. I pray that you remember that there are many Arlene Fords who remain in the dark night of the soul… awaiting the re-emergence of their joie de vivre. Beit T’Shuvah repairs the world one holy soul at a time.

Today I am the lady on the other end of the phone when you call Beit T’Shuvah’s Thrift Store. I’m the lady you sit next to in the nail salon or the lady behind you in line at Albertson’s. I’m the lady in a meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous. I’m the lady who loves the Torah. I’m the lady who holds her two grandchildren. I’m the lady who goes into detox units to help other addicts. I am the lady who dances like no one is watching. I am a recovering addict and a holy soul. I am the both/and.

And I will leave you with the words of a very wise lady, Harriet Rossetto, who is accustomed to saying .... there is nothing so remarkable as bearing witness to the transformation of the human spirit. And I say, right you are Harriet!

RABBI JAY SIEGEL

I consider myself to be a seeker. As I reflect on my past I can clearly see that I had been trying desperately to find something to fill what I would later consider to be a “God sized hole” inside of me. In the end it truly did not matter what I used to fill that hole, because in each case it was done to the extreme and each case ended in failure. Paradoxically it was not until I was backed into a corner that I became willing and open to try a spiritual path, a God path, to fill that void. However, that path only came about after a series of trials.

I grew up wanting for nothing, really, except maybe a toy or two. My father and mother started their own business, and while my mother taught public school my father wrote and published reference books that dealt with current world issues. Both of my parents were highly educated and were a great example of a loving, caring, and respectful partnership and marriage. My sister was and is a wonderful woman and a kind soul who is constantly reaching out to others and who seemed to “get it.” In short, I grew up as an average Jewish kid in the suburbs of Dallas.

I began seeking comfort early in life through manipulation of friends and the simple escape of lying. However, looking back I see two significant events that ultimately ended in a way of life that proved dangerous and dark. I recall lying in bed at an early age pondering life and then realizing that I was mortal, that my life would not go on forever. I became very frightened and I could not sleep. Instead of sharing that experience I thought myself weak for being fearful. I kept it to myself and I learned a lesson: not to share my weaknesses with anyone.

Next, in fifth grade, after finding out that I was doing poorly in school, I was given the option of getting help through a tutor, staying after school or getting help from my parents. I remember thinking to myself that I could do this on my own. I did not need anyone to help me; all I had to do was work really hard and I could do it all by myself. I told myself that I did not need anyone, ever.

With these ideas I continued to seek for a way to live, a solution to my problem of living. I found through drugs and alcohol a relief from all that plagued my mind, whether real or fantasy. At first the drugs and alcohol were a calm in a rather turbulent sea, then the calm turned to rough waters which tossed me around for years before the willingness to change set in.

Through playing music I found a source of strength. I was a guitarist in a band that played many shows and we had a lot of fun. We were a tight group of guys. In the end we could only get together to practice once a week, and we were so intoxicated we could barely last a brief set. The music provided relief but no solution.

I also sought through religion to find the solution to my drug/alcohol problem, my life problem. I went and bought lots of Jewish books to find the answers. I could not find the answer, that is, I could not find the answer I wanted. So, the response was wholesale condemnation of Judaism - and all religions for that matter. In addition to the drugs, alcohol, and religion, I sought through sports, TV, friends, school, and any number of other external ways to fix an internal problem.

The end came when I finally realized that I desperately needed other people, and that having emotions was not a reason to think of myself as weak. When I came clean about a nasty heroin addiction, I also told on myself about the entire spectrum of lies I had told myself and others. This started me down a road that ultimately led to t’shuvah and a new way of life. I went to detox but I could not hear the message of recovery. I thought that it was more important to return to school, and just use heroin recreationally. So, it is no wonder that shortly after leaving detox I used heroin again. Again, I came clean about this lapse and it is beyond my understanding why. I was then shipped off to Minnesota for a longer term treatment, and it is there that I began to understand a few fundamentals of sobriety, life, and spirituality.

During this period of learning I was introduced to Judaism by a young orthodox Jew. This was a Judaism and spirituality that I had never wanted to see before. Thus began a journey of Jewish study with an already growing passion for recovery. This passion developed into a desire to become a rabbi. So, I went to the University of Minnesota and received a B.A. in History. I took some time and worked at Hazelden Center for Youth and Families to see if I really wanted to work in the field, and I then applied to two rabbinical schools. I was accepted to both, and I chose to move to Los Angeles. In Los Angeles I was introduced to Beit T'Shuvah and was the rabbinical intern there for several years. I was offered the position of associate rabbi and this is where I am today.

There is no logical reason why I am where I am today and that I no longer have to live the dreaded existence of an addict. The only answer I can give is that there truly is a God. Of course, hard work and commitment played a pivotal role, yet I can not help but sense the hand of God working in my life. In the end when I accepted that my way of thinking, my old ideas, were not useful, then and only then could I receive and understand what I had been seeking my whole life: a relationship with myself, with others and of course, with God.

DR. SUSAN B. KREVOY - Director, Professional Clinical Staff

Pathways are beguiling. None of us, really, knows what’s right around the corner. My life started out pretty typical – nice Jewish girl marries nice Jewish doctor – they have 2 kids – live in nice house. And then it shifted – suddenly – to a dimension I hadn’t expected. Most of my life was then spent as a single mom, raising my 2 daughters almost single-handedly. From the time I went back to UCLA graduate school, with my 3 year-old under one arm and my newborn infant under the other, to the years of building a private practice, my focus was on supporting my daughters and myself.

It was during this time that I truly experienced the incredible power of psychotherapy - that to heal means looking at the underlying issues, that solving psychological problems means going deeper than what is on the surface.

Fast forward many years – my children are grown and doing well – and good fortune smiled down on me – not only did I meet the love of my life, my husband, Leo Spiwak, but I was able to shift my perspective from survival to sharing.

I’m fortunate; I was able to take my life’s work as a clinical psychologist and make it accessible to a larger number of people. Seven years ago I opened a nonprofit eating disorders clinic, which has enabled me to offer the treatment I had been providing in private practice to many more who are suffering, regardless of their ability to pay. Meeting Annette Shapiro, who dragged Leo and me on a very wet, rainy night to this little house on Lake Street, introducing me to Beit T’Shuvah, has made it possible to reach even more people suffering from addiction. For once we witnessed what Harriet and the Rabbi had created, we were hooked.

I joined the Beit T’Shuvah Family in 2000 and found a place where I could be of service. Seeing a need for the residents to explore the underlying psychological components of their addiction, I was able to form the “Professional Clinical Staff.” This is a group of licensed therapists who volunteer their time at Beit T’Shuvah.

The Psychotherapy Program has grown into the third prong of Beit T’Shuvah’s unique model. Combining it with Jewish spirituality and the 12-Step model enables each resident to begin the road to long-term recovery. The psychotherapeutic component helps the residents to understand what brought them to Beit T’Shuvah and to understand what caused the vulnerability to the addictive, abusive, self-destructive and otherwise asocial behaviors which have affected their lives up to this point.

The program consists of individual and group psychotherapy for all residents, nutritional counseling for those with eating disorders and art therapy. Psychodrama, anger management and life skills are also offered. The curriculum for each resident is different, since a unique program is necessary to reflect their specific therapeutic and recovery needs. As a result of the psychotherapy component, residents who complete the program are better equipped to deal with the real world and subsequently are better able to cope with life’s trials and tribulations and still stay sober.

We meet bi-monthly with the spiritual leaders and addiction counselors so that the residents can benefit from the integration of the three components that make up the program.

The Program has grown and now includes psychotherapy interns who are seeking training in this area.

My initial reason for committing my time to Beit T'shuvah was motivated by a need to give back. But what's happened in my life as a result of that choice has been something so extraordinary and so unexpected because I, myself, have grown spiritually and emotionally in ways that have enlarged my own quality of life. I thought, after my all my studies and years as a psychoanalyst, that I had figured it all out. Was I ever wrong!! The lessons I have learned from the Beit T’Shuvah community about imperfection, forgiveness, being true to ourselves and the inevitability of mistakes has been both spiritually nourishing and personally gratifying.

WARREN BRESLOW - Board President Emeritus

When I became a father I believed that if I loved my children, provided for them, and led a life of integrity and honesty, they would turn out to be fine adults worthy of admiration. I set out on this journey trying hard to find the right balance of quality time with my children, quality time with my wife, Elaine, working hard to secure financial well being, and leave enough time for myself and charitable endeavors. My life was full; I enjoyed watching my children grow up; I made sure my wife (now of 43 years) was an integral part of my life; I became financially successful; and gave of both my money and my time to charity. We lived in a lovely house in the hills above the City with live-in help. My children attended private schools. We took lovely vacations and I worked diligently for Stephen S. Wise Temple, eventually becoming its President. Life couldn’t have been better.

Suddenly and without warning we discovered our 14 year old son had become a drug addict and from that day on my life was forever changed. We were consumed by this problem which strained all of our family relationships to the point of falling apart. All of our attention was focused on our eldest son and we had no idea what to do. The wonderful life I had built for my family was coming apart at the seams. We were literally consumed by the problem. There wasn’t supposed to be any problem I couldn’t fix, but there I was hopelessly floundering in a pervasive darkness without a clue. My life was becoming unmanageable and spinning out of control. How could this be happening to me? What did I do to deserve this? Did I cause this problem? How could I fix it? I couldn’t! The guilt I felt was enormous and I was both ashamed and embarrassed about my failure as a father.

During those awful days I often wondered if I was being tested and maybe, just maybe I was. Certainly, my life has been permanently changed by this experience which undoubtedly imparted in me an inexhaustible passion to help make Beit T’Shuvah the great success it has become. During the time my family was struggling with drug addiction there was no Beit T’Shuvah, but somehow through the grace of G-d we got through it. In fact, my son eventually married, produced our very special granddaughter, Julia, and graduated from college.

Fifteen years ago my wife, Elaine, found a new purpose in her life when she became a drug and alcohol counselor and went to work at Beit T’Shuvah, in an old, broken down Victorian house in the heart of drug infested downtown Los Angeles. Shortly after, I joined Friends of Beit T’Shuvah, a group of parents, who were trying to raise money to enhance the program. Eventually, I became its founding president and took on a more ambitious program. My dream was to move the facility to the Westside and to raise the consciousness of the Jewish Community to drug addiction in our midst.

To say that my dream has come to fruition is an understatement. Fifteen years ago, who would have believed that with the phenomenal help of the Jewish community, and a Board filled with some of the most influential and active community leaders, we would raise $5,000,000 and acquire our beautiful Westside facility. Under the guidance of our founder and visionary, Harriet Rossetto, we care for 120 residents in three levels of care; primary, sober living, and independent living. We have outreach programs for drug prevention, family programs for relatives of addicts, seminars on drug related issues and a unique synagogue under the leadership of Rabbi Mark Borovitz.

I am quite proud of what I helped to create at Beit T’Shuvah and look forward to my role as President Emeritus.