Editorial November 18, 1996 Issue

Going for real gold

Some thoughts on drug abuse

Mary Metzner Trammell

"I gotta tell you why I really came to this university," he told me as we were going over his first freshman English paper. "It was the pot. I mean, you got the best drugs in the world right here in South Florida! Marijuana, cocaine, heroin—anything. Cheap. On any street corner. It's pure gold!!"

There wasn't too much I could say. I was only his English teacher. Yet I certainly wanted to help. At least he was honest. And somehow I knew that this eager young man would figure it all out. He'd find out that there's more to life—and to college—than quick-and-easy drugs. And, during the one term I knew him, he started doing just that.

Maybe that's the key to the door leading out of drug abuse: learning there's something better. Something more to life than quick-and-easy thrills. Something more permanent and beautiful and comforting. Something you can't drink or pop or snort or smoke or shoot. Something that won't hurt your body at all. Something that's ultimately spiritual.

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