For These Graduates, a Course on Sobriety

By having her daughter with her, Christian said, she was able to focus on straightening out her life, rather than worrying about Asia going into foster care. "I was able to focus on what I had to focus on. That was getting sober." It gave her peace of mind, she said, to have her child with her.

Sober since April 2005, Christian is an office manager for a D.C. church. She said the program is not an end-all. The real struggle comes when women resume living each day with friends and family members, many of whom remember when they used drugs and alcohol.

Not everyone who enters the program emerges a success. In the past three years, six women have relapsed since graduating, and two gave up legal guardianship of their children to family members because they were unable to remain sober, officials said.

"You have to never want to get high again," Christian said. "I even stopped cigarettes. I want to live. The whole thing is about living today. And having fun. I have fun."

"Being strong and not letting people break me down/. . . Letting go of all the ones that hurt me/'cause they never did deserve me/Can you imagine me?"

The graduation Sept. 5 was the final one for the program's founder, Judge Anita Josey-Herring, who presided over the family unit of D.C. Superior Court. She plans to take on another court assignment in January.

When Josey-Herring founded the program, she had reservations about having children live so closely with women with drug habits and arrest records, she said. But now, she said, "I am so proud of this program. I am so very proud of these women and what they have accomplished."

About 200 family members, friends, social workers and court personnel attended the graduation. Unlike at high school and college ceremonies, the tears and applause reflected years of struggle with drugs and alcohol and painful memories of often neglected children.

One graduate was Michelle Barnes, 29, the "most improved" participant.

Before she entered the program, Barnes would drink alone in her Southeast apartment each day while her children, Diamond, 9, and Robert, 8, were at school or played outside. She was devoted to vodka; Grey Goose, specifically.

In fall 2006, Barnes's gas was shut off for four months. That triggered a visit from child protective services. Soon after that, she entered Family Treatment Court.

"I didn't think I had a drinking problem," Barnes said, as her children ran around her legs. "But now, yeah, I feel better."

"Letting go of the past/And glad I have another chance/And my heart will dance/'cause I don't have to read that page again."