I AM RESPONSIBLE: The Hand of AA

Selected stories from the AA Grapevine



The Key to Belonging

Growing up, I was an angry, lonely, frightened kid. I didn¹t know how to
make friends, and I wasn¹t sure I wanted to. Recess was the most painful
part of my day ? I¹d sit on the outskirts of the play-ground, sensing that I
wasn¹t welcome to play tag or kickball. I watched the other children, taking
in their every move, and wondering if I¹d ever figure it out. I started
drinking heavily when I was thirteen. It wasn¹t to fit in I rarely drank
around other people?but more to ease the misery that was raging inside me.

It was only five years later that I arrived in the rooms of Alcoholics
Anonymous. But I wasn¹t convinced that I wanted what you had. I did know
that I didn¹t want to drink. I had been trying so hard to stop, and it was
my failed attempts that had led me to AA. But five years of alcoholic
drinking hadn¹t taught me how to participate in much of anything. I did show
up, going to at least a meeting a day, often more; I got a sponsor (though I
had no clue how to talk to her); and I didn¹t drink, no matter what. I sat
and watched, wanting to do AA the same way I had done recess on the outside
looking in.

Ironically, I joined a group only because I wanted to be left alone. Ann
seemed to be at most of the meetings I went to, and she¹d zoom right in on
me. ³Have you joined a group yet? You could join this one!² My sponsor had
also suggested I join a group, but I quickly mastered the art of
sidestepping her suggestions. Ann, however, would drill me about it. ³You¹ll
drink again if you don¹t join a group,² she¹d say. I¹d think, ³Yeah right,
I¹ll show you.² But I figured she¹d back off if I told her I¹d joined a
different group, and I picked one neither she nor my sponsor attended.
³You¹re a member if you say you¹re a member² I¹d heard, so it wasn¹t like I
had to tell anyone other than Ann, and maybe my sponsor. Ann seemed
disappointed that she hadn¹t roped me into one of her groups, but she moved
on to another newcomer. Mission accomplished!

My sponsor, however, only suggested it wasn¹t good enough to simply join the
group ? I should ³get active.² She asked when the next business meeting was,
and when I told her, she insisted on going with me. I was relieved when she
sat quietly through the meeting. I certainly wasn¹t interested in making
coffee or putting away chairs.

One night I went to my new home group, only to be told there was no meeting
that night. The hospital needed that room for some other function, although
they had made available a room in an adjoining building. My group had
decided it wasn¹t worth lugging our gear over, so they had canceled the
meeting.

I¹d love to tell you that I volunteered to do the work ? that I carried a
coffee pot across the parking lot and went back for a box of meeting lists
pamphlets and Big Books. But that¹s not what I did. I hadn¹t yet developed
any sense of responsibility. I didn¹t care about the other group members, or
the newcomer who might walk in the door that night. I was furious that my
meeting had been canceled. I screamed at the handful of members who were
directing people like me to other meetings in town that evening. Then I
walked home, vowing never to go to that meeting again.

After about a year of not drinking, my defiance started to soften. My anger,
my stubbornness, my attitude ? these were all keeping me from enjoying my
sobriety, and I started to recognize that fact. I decided to try some of the
things that until then I¹d refused to do. I finished my Fourth Step, and
shared it with my sponsor. I started going to meetings a little early and
resisted the urge to bolt out the door the moment the Lord¹s Prayer was
finished. I thought I might try some of that ³get active² stuff, so I
volunteered to make coffee at a meeting I liked to attend.

You meet a lot of people when you need to be at the meeting an hour early.
There¹s always the second person to get there ? maybe a newcomer, or an
out-of-towner, or even an old-timer who knows that the coffee maker needs
some company. It wasn¹t long before I found myself in the middle of
Alcoholics Anonymous. I discovered that there really is an easier, softer
way ? the way of striving to be a part of. What I¹ve been willing to give to
AA, most often through my home group, I¹ve gotten back tenfold in peace of
mind.

Not that making coffee rendered me white as snow. The first time I was
elected treasurer I stole the group¹s money!  When the rent was due, there
was nothing left to pay it with. I had to tell the group what I had done,
and I vowed to pay it back, which I did. They didn¹t want me to be treasurer
anymore (they were sober, not stupid), but found I made a good chip-person
and cake baker. A few years later, in a different group, I was again asked
to be treasurer, a job which I at first declined. I related the story of how
I¹d proven myself to be a sober thief, but they were insistent I take the
job. This time I managed to perform my duties with honor and integrity.

I recently moved and now I have another new home group. I got active here
immediately ? I needed to. I walked into that meeting not knowing a soul and
felt as if I was back at recess again. So I served as the greeter,
introducing myself to these strangers I knew were just friends I hadn¹t met
yet, and I welcomed them to the meeting. I took care of other odds and ends,
such as selling raffle tickets or signing court papers and I was just
elected alternate general service representative. I go on commitments with
the other group members, sharing my experience, strength, and hope as a
representative of the Manchester Original Group. This fall we will celebrate
the group¹s fifty-fifth anniversary. I can¹t believe I¹m a member of a group
that¹s older than my mother.

I don¹t corner newcomers in exactly the same way that Ann did, insisting
they join a group, but I think I understand what she wanted me to know. So I
ask the newcomer to help me wash the coffee pot, or put chairs away, because
service was, and still is, my key to belonging.