he sunshine yellow wall

behind Nancy Austin’s desk is a perfect backdrop for this woman filled with warmth and an outpouring of compassion. Her work, like her life, has been one of dealing with addiction recovery, days measured by joyous highs alternated with deep lows. Her stories speak volumes about the challenges and triumphs of her work.

Words by Kim Malakowsky

Photography by Dennis Krull, 5foot20 Design Lounge

Twenty-one years ago Austin joined ShareHouse, Inc. in Fargo, ND as director of residential services and later trained to become a recovery coach. ShareHouse houses those struggling with addiction. It is a place of refuge, a place to heal and begin to form a new life. In Austin’s words, “If you come and you invest in your future you’ll have a wonderful opportunity to see the rest of your life through sober eyes.”

There are two residences. Each is gender specific and house adults over the age of 18. People come from all walks of life, all ages, with varying levels and types of addiction. “Heroin seems to be the very popular one right now,” tells Austin, “ along with meth, alcohol, and some abuse of prescription drugs.”

Austin explains the role of a recovery coach is a new service not offered in other centers and is funded through philanthropic funds. “It’s not a counselor, it’s not a sponsor, it’s someone else. I learned that the recovery coach approach is the best of both worlds. I can meet with the client and we talk and I’m looking for the positives, instead of pointing out the negatives. Usually when someone walks in to the door of a treatment center they feel shame, guilt and blame, so when I say ‘What do you do well?, What makes you happy?’, it feels good to them.”

Austin talks about the importance of trust and honesty in a coach-client relationship. It’s important to have a foundation of support. She explains the little black phone sitting at the edge of her desk, “Addiction doesn’t start at eight o’clock a.m. and end at five. I tell them, I’ll answer your call whenever, and it’s been working.”

She works hard to build something sound while in the house because it doesn’t end there. When clients move back out into the community and they don’t feel like anyone understands they know Austin is only a phone call away.

She tells the story of a young man in the facility who was moving to the middle of North Dakota, a rural area where they didn’t have any AA meetings. He needed some place to touch base. Austin smiles as she recounts his phone calls. “Hi, Nancy. I’m doing great. I’m working hard, got to see my son last week.”

“That’s the important stuff,” says Austin.

One of the first people Austin worked with as a recovery coach left the house more than a year ago. A woman with a dual diagnosis of mental illness along with her addiction, she struggled tremendously. Austin remained in contact, speaking to her every Tuesday at 2:00 for as long as she needed. “I just spoke to her on Friday,” says Austin, “just this last Friday, she’s still sober and she still calls me. I tell her all the time. You’re just a miracle. Keep up the good work.”

The stories are not all happy ones with outcomes like these. There are clients who cannot face the