The armored figure gracing the front office of Alternative Choices in Tooele isn’t just a unique form of decor. The metallic-sheathed man serves as a reminder for drug and alcohol rehab participants who frequent the therapy center to “prepare for battle.”

It’s a slogan that Tooele County Drug Court therapy provider Terry Bates scripted to help her clients complete a rigorous program designed to allow them to regain control of their lives emotionally, physically and spiritually.

“I tell them, ‘Put on your armor because you are at war,’” Bates said.

Bates, one of the creators of the drug court program, has seen the program grow from one participant to as high as 55 in a single class in its short, five-year history. She’s also seen the success rate soar well above the national average: Nearly 85 percent of Tooele County drug court participants graduate from the program versus 46 percent from drug courts nationally, she said.

Bates, who was born in Provo and raised in California, has worked long and hard to get where she is today — starting with motherhood.

“I had a year of college right out of high school and then I married,” Bates said. “I had five children when I went back to school to find sanity and an hour for myself.”

That decision lead Bates to the completion of two undergraduate degrees — one in psychology and another in sociology with a criminology certificate — and then on to graduate school at the University of Utah where she received a degree is social work.

Internships completed at Valley Mental Health’s forensic unit in Salt Lake City and as a liaison between the Summit County Jail and Valley Mental Health gave Bates her first opportunity to work with substance abusers. After her internships were completed, she continued working with the organizations to tally 4,000 hours in order to obtain her clinical license in social work, before going into a doctorate program.

It was about that time that Bates relocated to Tooele and opened up a small private practice, seeing clients with depression and anxiety. The next year she was approached by then presiding 3rd District Court Judge Randall Skanchy to provide input into the creation of a court substance abuse treatment program.

“Everyone kept saying we needed five, 10, or 15 participants in order to start up the program,” Bates said. “I said, ‘Why don’t we build it and they will come. Why don’t we start with just one?’”

With that, Skanchy handed the torch to Bates and she rolled up her sleeves and got to work.

“I just went and got that one out of jail and we started drug court, and in a month we had five or six participants,” Bates said. “The difference between me doing it and someone else doing it was that I wasn’t encumbered by a lot of the problems that bigger therapy places have. I didn’t have to worry about the program of bringing money in. I was happy about any money that was brought in because my private practice was small and I was so busy otherwise.”

Drug court participants typically enter the program with a guilty plea to felony charges. That plea can be held in abeyance until successful completion of the program, after which charges can potentially be dropped, or other defendants may have the opportunity to plea down their charges to a misdemeanor after graduating from the program.

The program itself runs in phases.

“Phase one is more intensive,” Bates said. “It’s three months of coming to treatment twice a week, attending five AA meetings, going to court weekly, doing drug tests four times a week, and maintaining employment. It’s very intensive.”

The next three phases are slightly less intensive and extend over longer time periods, but nonetheless a slip-up could mean jail time, community service or other penalties.

“This is not a work-your-felony-off-easy program,” Bates said. “They really have to do a lot to get their felony off.”

Participants don’t always join the program with the intent to change their life, but rather to clean up their record.

“In the beginning, we want it more than they want it. No question,” Bates said. “And then there is a crossover where they are learning things about their lives, they have started to rebuild their relationships, they are paying their bills, they are now working, they are starting to get the dopamine which gives you a sense of pleasure, and now their life is really starting to work better for them. Then they say, ‘Man, if I went back to the drug I’d would lose all of it.’ So at that point in time they want it as much as we do.”

Bates conducts all of the group therapy sessions personally, which she said helps her understand each participant’s circumstances better. Despite her hectic schedule, Bates said she would never trade her job and associations with participants for anything else.

“My reward comes from being able to partner with them in their change,” Bates said. “The reward comes from being able to help, being able to hand over some knowledge that they haven’t been privileged to have. I provide the opportunity to change if they want it. If they don’t, then that’s fine. I don’t take it personally. We treat people with respect, with dignity. If I see that they are getting a little off track I will say something to them so I don’t blind-side them. If you don’t have that relationship, you just aren’t going to impact change.”

Jamie Belnap: jamieb@tooeletranscript.com