Bruised Fruit: Hiding the Truth #10

By Max Oppen

In the 20 years since I made a life-altering decision by wandering into a stranger's home and paying the price legally, I've experienced many ups and downs. After my incarceration, I spent about two and a half on parole. Parole felt like just another annoyance, and I found ways to use drugs without getting caught. My parole officer was pretty easygoing and told me that all he wanted from me was honesty. So, each time I took a pill or snorted a line, I told him about it. Thankfully, I had no violations and was able to keep my drug use in check. By 2007, I began to seriously think about my future, though I was still using drugs. This pattern persisted after my parole ended. For the next few years, I continued to use drugs on and off while working various manual labor jobs—mowing lawns, doing construction, and working as a baseline man for a land surveying crew. I even worked at Hunter Mountain for a few winter seasons when Orville Slutzky was alive. I would work for Hunter Mountain during the winters and cut grass or surveyed land in the summers.

Through all of these jobs, an idea began to take shape in my mind. I set a goal: I wanted to return to college and earn my bachelor's degree by the time I turned 40. It was 2010, and I was 36 years old. I had failed out of SUNY New Paltz 18 years earlier, but I was determined to make it work this time. I applied to Columbia Greene Community College (CGCC), was accepted, and began my journey in higher education. As I focused more on school, my drug use began to lessen. Over the next two years, I earned my Associate's degree from CGCC.

In my final year at CGCC, I originally decided to transfer back to SUNY New Paltz but was not accepted. I cannot quite remember the reasoning behind their decision, but it may have been due to my outstanding warrant. So, I applied to the University at Albany, was accepted, and began to pursue my bachelor's degree. I chose Journalism as my major and English as my minor. Transferring to such a large school was intimidating, especially with the active warrant out of California hanging over me from that earlier incident I mentioned in a previous "Bruised Fruit" column.

UAlbany's vetting process uncovered the warrant, and I had to jump through several hoops, including meetings with school officials, to ensure I didn't pose a threat to other students. Thankfully, my uncle stepped in to help. He had an acquaintance who was an attorney in New York with connections in San Diego. They managed to retain a California-based lawyer who got my felony dropped in exchange for me attending and completing a six-month outpatient drug treatment program. While attending UAlbany, I completed the program, and the felony warrant was eventually dropped. It was a huge relief, and I'm incredibly grateful to my uncle for his help. It's amazing how money can influence the criminal justice system so effectively. Had I not had that help from my uncle, that pesky warrant may still be hanging over my head.

While at UAlbany, I began taking Klonopin, an anti-seizure and anxiety medication that belongs to the benzodiazepine family. For most adults, “benzos” and alcohol are two drugs that can be life-threatening if you stop using them abruptly. Though it dulled my senses, I excelled at school, earning a 4.0 GPA. I certainly felt my age compared to the other students, many of whom were half my age. Still, I made new friends, met terrific professors and journalists, and interned with the UAlbany Digital Media Department for about two years. This internship sparked my love for photography, which remains a passion today. I learned how to film documentary-style interviews, learned about lighting and audio, and was taught how to edit videos (skills that have benefited me in my chosen field to this day). I even completed a paid summer internship with the department. Going back to school at such a late age was daunting, but I pushed through. I was motivated to create a better life for myself.

In 2014, I graduated UAlbany with honors at the age of 40, having accomplished my goal. My family was proud, and I was too. However, I was still using drugs on and off—not the hard stuff, but I was still popping pills. During the summer of 2014, I applied for a reporting position at the Catskill Daily Mail. I was called in for an in-person interview, asked to provide a writing sample, and told they would contact me. I remember getting the call while I was shoveling gravel at the park. Service was spotty, and I barely heard the editor's voice, but I knew I had gotten the job. I lay down on that pile of gravel and shouted in celebration—it felt better than any drug out there.

I worked for The Daily Mail for about six months, but the pay was low, the benefits were lacking, and while it was a great experience, it didn't meet my expectations. I wrote about 150 articles, which can be found online to this day. I soon began searching for new opportunities. A close friend sent me a job listing for a communications role at an environmental non-profit in Albany that they had seen on Facebook. Though I had little experience in communications—what journalists call "the dark side"—I decided to apply. The pay was salary-based, with benefits like a 403(b) and good health insurance—something I had never encountered.

The interview process was nerve-wracking. I called my uncle before my first in-person interview, and he reassured me. When I first walked into that office in Albany, I was shaking. But I kept my composure. I got through it and was called in for a second interview. I sat in front of employees from various departments, which reminded me of my parole hearing years ago. I was invited to a third meeting with the Executive Director. I now knew I had made a good impression with the previous two meetings. The Executive Director was confident, arrogant, and intimidating, but I made sure they knew how serious I was. A few days later, I was informed by the Communications manager that I had indeed gotten the job. I remember the day I told my family I had gotten the job. It was as thrilling as when I landed my first reporting job but the feeling was even better. I would be driving the same long commute from the mountaintop to Albany, just like my father had done for 20 years. My father passed away in 2012, and unfortunately, he didn't live long enough to see the success he and my mother had always hoped for.

I went on to work for the non-profit, where I wrote press releases, organized press events at the State Capitol, managed the company's website, ran their social media channels, took photos, produced videos, and rubbed elbows with elected officials, including Senator Chuck Schumer and members of the State Assembly and Senate. I'd gone from living on the streets in San Diego to coordinating press conferences with politicians. It was surreal. But I had a ton of support from family and friends who believed in me, and I owe them everything. Without their support, I wonder if any of my success would have been possible. For those folks reading this, you know who you are, and I appreciate the support.

Though my journey was filled with challenges, including my struggles with addiction, I've learned that resilience, support from others, and setting goals can make all the difference. It hasn't been easy, but I had come a long way from being homeless, living in a cardboard refrigerator box on that rooftop in California. And as I look back, I'm grateful for the people who helped me along the way.

I had always thought that due to my felony conviction, I would never be a viable candidate for this kind of job. The company didn't run a background check, which could have dashed my chances. This proved to me that all of my worrying was in vain. It showed me that when I put my mind to something, there's always a chance at success, despite one's past choices and actions. Had I let fear and doubt rule my world, I would never have found success. So, for those struggling right now, have faith in yourself. I'm not saying anyone can be whatever they want because that's unrealistic. But if you want to change your life, it is possible - one step at a time. It won't be easy, and you may be unsuccessful sometimes, but that's why you must keep trying. Don't let yourself get in the way. Don't feed into the anxiety or fear - instead, push through it, and you'll be surprised at what you can accomplish.

I would attend the occasional Narcotics Anonymous meeting, but I mainly ignored my addiction, which was still unresolved, living in the shadows of my mind and growing stronger every day. I had become complacent, drunk with success and excitement for the future.

And so began my eight-year career as a communications associate for a non-profit in Albany.