This is the fourth installment in a series about Pennsylvanians in recovery from substance use disorder and how stigma affected their recovery. The series is a collaboration between Public Good News, Centro Integral de la Mujer Madre Tierra, and Life Unites Us. If you’d like to share your story, contact us at Info@PublicGoodNews.com.
[Editor’s note: The contents of this interview have been edited for length and clarity. This interview was originally conducted in Spanish.]
Luis Soto, 54
Founder and community ambassador of the nonprofit Inspirando Latinos and assistant program manager of the Philadelphia Police-Assisted Diversion (PAD) program
Philadelphia
I was born in 1972 in Guayama, Puerto Rico. My childhood was good. My parents did the best they could with the limited resources they had. My father, who drank alcohol, divorced my mother when I was very young—around 3 years old. That affected me deeply because there were nine of us siblings living with my mother.
I started using drugs because I was looking to fit in, looking for a group that would accept me and love me. My older brother, may he rest in peace, paid more attention to my other brother. I felt jealous and rejected by him, so I started looking for that attention elsewhere.
When my son was born, I didn’t know how to be a father. I wasn’t responsible. I loved being out on the streets and all that came with it. When I arrived in Philadelphia at 21, I came to work. My son was here, so I came to try to support him and be part of his life. But what happened?
I got into another relationship and had another son. He died at 5-and-a-half months old in 1995. That was the moment that turned my life upside down. I couldn’t cope with the shock. I threw myself into the streets and into addiction.
From that point on, I spent years cycling through treatment programs, jail, prison, institutions, and homelessness.
In 2009, I was sent to a recovery house outside the prison. That’s where I began taking on leadership roles and facilitating groups.
In transitional housing, and later in a recovery home, I began to recover. Steven, a coordinator of the program I attended in West Philly, saw something in me. One day he said, “Mr. Soto, you’re going to be a great peer support facilitator.” Thirty days later, he made me the house manager. From that moment on, I never looked back.
I was in my late 30s, and I wanted to do something with my life. I finally allowed someone to help me because I was prideful—because of machismo. I was the kind of person who would say, “You’re not going to tell me how to live my life. I know how to live my life.”
Thanks to God, peer support, and professional help, I was able to work through the trauma of losing my son. I was able to accept it and learn how to live with it.
My sobriety date is January 1, 2011. I have now been in recovery for 15 years. Today, I have a purpose and a place to go. I spent more than three years homeless, not knowing where I would end up. Wherever sleep caught up with me, that’s where I stayed. I don’t want to live like that anymore. Today, I have to live in the present.
After the recovery home, I was referred to the Pennsylvania Recovery Organization-Achieving Community Together as a volunteer. That’s where my journey as a recovery coach began. It’s also where the organization I founded, Inspirando Latinos, really took off.
Today, I’m also a member of Narcotics Anonymous. I have a sponsor, I work the steps, and I sponsor others, helping them work through the steps during their recovery. I also completed trainings to become a certified peer specialist, a certified recovery specialist, a recovery coach, a facilitator, and a mental health first aid facilitator, among other certifications. Later, I attended college and earned an associate degree in human services.
In 2019, I received a call from the city of Philadelphia. They told me they needed a bilingual peer specialist for the Department of Behavioral Health. There, I was part of a team that launched an initiative called the Community Wellness Engagement Unit. Today, I work with the Office of Public Safety and the Division of Criminal Justice.
In this role, I help people get the support they need instead of going to prison. The goal is to reduce involvement with jails and the criminal justice system and connect people with the services they need. That’s part of what I do today, and I feel it is a blessing—a miracle.
God is good. I’ve learned that what matters is continuing to work, improve, grow, learn, stay open-minded, and remain humble. Every one of us is human, brother. Nobody is perfect. Sometimes it’s easy to see someone on the street and point a finger at them, but we’re all human. Offer them a glass of water. Talk to them. Be more human.
If you or anyone you know is considering suicide or self-harm or is anxious, depressed, upset, or needs to talk, call the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline at 988 or text the Crisis Text Line at 741-741. For international resources, here is a good place to begin.
If you’re looking for substance use disorder or mental health help in Pennsylvania, find a list of resources here.
This article was supported by Life Unites Us, a health campaign that receives funding from the Pennsylvania Department of Drug and Alcohol Programs. Public Good News retains full editorial control over its reporting.