From the Pit of Hell: A True Story (Transforming Lives) [Paperback]

When I walk into the classroom I know not to expect any respect. Respect must be earned, and so that is what I strive to do as soon as possible. Whilst the kids talk amongst themselves I make use of the blackboard. In this school the blackboard is white, with pens in a selection of colours. I take the green pen and I draw a cannabis leaf. There are sniggers from my audience and I know that several have recognised the image. I hear muttering, the words 'pot' and 'dope' circulate and I know that I have their interest.

I turn around and introduce myself.

'Alright everyone, my name is Steve Amos, and I'm here to talk to you about drug awareness.'

I have given talks in this school before, and so some of the kids have an idea what to expect of me. Having made a couple of light-hearted comments about my time in prison and my experience of guns, I have had the chance to assess my audience and identify where the more rebellious personalities are sitting. To me these children are not troublemakers, instead they are my tools. These louder students are the ones who will be honest and bring my talk to life. The laughter at these comments dies down as they realise that I am not joking. Although I appear flippant, I am deadly serious.

I return to the blackboard. I write 50p next to the cannabis leaf, then £250,000 in the middle of the board. Adjacent to this I draw a cross.

I then explain that I paid 50p for my first joint, that I have spent about £250,000 on drugs in my life, and that I have died. This raises a laugh, but again the laughter soon fades as they see the expression on my face. Drugs are no laughing matter. Now I have their full attention, I rattle off a list of drugs that I have taken, and then it is down to business.

From experience I know that these sessions work best when I answer questions from the floor. I am of the opinion that if the kids are to be aware about drugs then I should talk about what they want to know, and at the same time make it clear that, although they want to know about it, they never want to do it. So I open it up to the ‘audience’. It comes as no surprise to see just one hand raised with a question. The larger personalities have disappeared and I take a question from one of the quieter lads in the room.

'Can you talk about acid?' he asks.

Those sat around him pass comment under their breath that they never realised he was into that kind of thing. This makes him feel the need to justify his enquiry,

'I've heard there are lots of different sorts, and that they have different effects, some are okay, others are really dangerous.'

And so this is where I begin. I talk about the different types of L.S.D. and explain that although there are various degrees of danger, the 'safest' form of acid is by no means safe.

The ice now broken, I am flooded with questions about my childhood, about glue sniffing, about using needles, and about the sort of trips I had whilst on L.S.D.
As I talk about my life, I find myself relating stories to scenes from films. In this one session alone, I have mentioned seven films to illustrate my various points;

'Have you seen the film 'Alien'?'

A large 'Yes' erupts from the class.

I smile and look across at their teacher, 'I wouldn't say that too loud with your teacher in the room, it has a certificate of 18 and none of you can be any older than 16!'.

And so, as I find what I'm saying becomes too heavy; I make a joke to lighten the atmosphere. I talk about the time a small cartoon banana followed me around for twelve hours when I was on acid; and balance this with the story of how my cousin, Morris, almost lost his arm by experimenting with the same drug. And so I have succeeded in gaining their attention, and also a certain degree of respect. As the bell rings for lunch, I am free to leave, but on this occasion, as I have found quite often, nobody leaves, and instead we carry on talking for another twenty minutes.

Before I actually go, I take one final question.

'Don't you miss the excitement of your life on drugs?'

I laugh at the thought of it,

'I did drugs to calm down mate!' I reply, 'Trust me when I say I'm much wilder now than I ever was then! Life today is much more exciting!'

As I leave, I hope they will have learnt something from what I have said, and I trust I will have made an impression on their young lives. And, as I think about where their lives will go from here, I think back to my own childhood. How it might have been different if I had had a Steve Amos come to my school and talk to me about the danger of drugs. And then, with regret, I smile to myself as it dawns on me that I probably wouldn’t have been in school in the first place!
God bless
steve amos