Written by a patient I worked with:

I would like to start off by introducing myself. My name is Danielle and I am 17 years old. I am in treatment at the moment, in therapy. I wrote this to share my recent experiences with you.

One day I was sitting in the treatment center community room talking to one of my friends about the next tattoo I was going to get. I told her I wanted to get a Nazi sign on my hands really badly. My journal and my art all have Nazi and KKK signs drawn on them. Matt overheard our conversation and came over to talk to us. He asked me again what I wanted to get on my hands and I said with pride, "A Nazi sign." So he began to question my beliefs, but just by gently asking me to explain my story. With my pride rising on every word, I explained my racism against black people, gang members, and drug dealers. After I told him all that I had to say, he told me that even though he didnâ??t agree he respected me as a person in spite of my beliefs.

What had happened in my life that caused such a great hatred in my heart for a race of humans? Well, for a long time there was nothing I wanted more than to be in a gang, and so did my best friend. Only she wanted it a little bit more than me. So the gang jumped her in and while the men were hurting her,* they killed her (*the assault included a rape -Matt). From that moment on, something in my head clicked. I completely turned around.

I got rid of all my blue clothes, rap music, chains, posters, and my gangster attitude. I wore boots with black pants tucked in, white shirts or a sweatshirt with a hood and I also shaved my head. I built a mental brick wall that no one could break. I found a whole new group of friends. I thought it was so cool because they were just like me, or so I thought. They showed me something completely new to me. They called it a self-medication, but actually it was shooting up methamphetamine. That enraged me even more with my beliefs. I was getting numb to all emotions except for anger and revenge. This stage went on for 6-8 months, then I decided to grow my hair back out. But I was still on drugs and still a racist.

I moved to a small town and couldnâ??t find any drug dealers so I found a drug store that sold a cough medication called Cloricidin Cough and cold. I had taken this in large amounts before, when I was a skinhead. But I took even more now, so my tolerance went up. I was taking 60 to 70 pills at a time and shutting out my family. When I began to throw up blood I knew I needed help, so I decided to go to my mother. She placed me in here.

When I got here I was enraged on the inside but cool, calm and collected on the outside. My eyes were closed to the world and my surroundings. Until that day when someone finally questioned my beliefs.

From this point, my life had already begun to change but I just didnâ??t realize it yet. So the next day Matt did a group with us. He brought us back to the topic of labels and rejection. There was a question that took a lot out of me to answer. I had been crying earlier because I had felt so angry at myself and so worthless because of all the stupid and violent things Iâ??ve done, all the drugs Iâ??ve used, and all the time Iâ??ve wasted. Yet my family and loved ones kept telling me they wanted more for me, and they still loved me. Matt asked me a question that I believe was along the lines of:

"Youâ??ve felt so angry, and so worthless, and so guilty for all the things youâ??ve doneâ??the drugs, the violence, the hate. And yet when people told you they still love you and want a better life for you, it meant so much to you. So why is it that when you look at other people who are hurting, angry, on drugs, or hated, you canâ??t find the same kind of mercy toward them that meant so much to you?"

Out of all the questions that he asked me, that was the only one I had no answer for. I felt so angry with myself, and so ashamed. So from that moment I knew I had to change.

So I came to Matt in private with a question that would change my whole life, and that question was "Who is God, how do I find him, and will he forgive me?" Ever since that conversation I have found God and have been consumed by an inner peace. I am not through changing though.

In fact, I have been thinking about this little church in my town. It is the dirtiest, nastiest, crummiest church in the whole town. It looks like it has been caught on fire and boarded up. This church is on the "ghetto" side of Crescent, Oklahoma, and is entirely Black. In fact, it is the only church for Black people in my town. But this church is the most extraordinary church because on Sunday morning when I used to walk past it, the most beautiful sound comes out of it. And the sounds are of the piano and the voices of the choir. This church has always caught my eye, even during my racism.

The only thing that angers me is that there are other churches on the "white side" of town that look like castles, so it just goes to show that there is a race difference even through Christianity.

But honestly, from my point of view now, I would rather go to the church that is broken down on the outside but beautiful on the inside, even if I am the only person like me there.

Because broken down, but beautiful on the inside, is how I feel.