Terrence is a tough guy. He’s strong. He’s got an attitude… But not in any of the ways you might think about when you first meet him.
Terrence’s strength comes from the grace he offers to those who have walked a hard road. His toughness shines through when he refuses to give up on people, even as they struggle not to give up on themselves. And his attitude is one of gratitude—for Creator, for where his own journey has taken him, and for the life he’s been able to reclaim with the help of the Bruce Oake Recovery Centre.
“I get to be Terrence today, and I like who I am,” he said. “This is me.”
But it wasn’t always that way. Terrence grew up with his family in Thompson, surrounded by intergenerational trauma, addiction, and violence. He moved to the city when he was barely a teenager and found a different kind of family in gang life. For many years, Terrence had a reputation and carried a misguided pride for the way of the streets. He spent years in trouble with the law as the trauma, violence, and addiction he witnessed and experienced in his younger years took hold and refused to loosen its grip.
At times, behind bars, Terrence would begin to straighten out. He’d be convinced he could stay on the sober side of things without help when he was released.
“I’m like … ‘I’m going to get out and do it on my own.’ And it never worked out,” he remembered. “Every time I got out, I went back to addiction. I went back to selling drugs. I went back to doing crime.”
That toxic rhythm continued for years. But after doing the dance so many times, Terrence was growing tired. He had kids of his own by now and he wanted the trauma, violence, and addiction to stop with him. He was ready to break the cycle. But how?
The answer came one day while watching the 6 o’clock news from jail. A report came on about a new addiction treatment centre—spearheaded by a family who lost their son to addiction—that was about to break ground in Crestview. Terrence was already taking programs and was in the process of applying for parole, so he mentioned Bruce Oake Recovery Centre to his parole officer. She loved the idea.
Months later, when the facility opened its doors, Terrence was released from Headingley Correctional Centre straight into the custody of Bruce Oake to begin 16 weeks of live-in recovery treatment.
At that point, Terrence was 35 years old and had been incarcerated for 12 years of his life.
“Coming here, everybody was like, oh, how’s it going? Shaking my hand, try to give me hugs and stuff,” Terrence recalled. “I was like, what the heck? Come on. It’s like, you don’t even know me.”
At first, it was all overwhelming. Those initial days and weeks were challenging, and Terrence wasn’t sure he was going to make it. But whenever he struggled or slipped …. to his surprise, he wasn’t asked to leave. He wasn’t abandoned, kicked out, or given up on.
Instead, the staff at Bruce Oake leaned in.
“(They said), ‘We care about you. We see something in you. We see something very good. I was crying. I was like, thanks, I appreciate what you guys do for me,” Terrence recalled. “And ever since then: boom. I was just on point. I was into my meetings; I did the program. I did it thoroughly; I did it honestly.”
“(They said), ‘We care about you. We see something in you. We see something very good ... And ever since then: boom. I was just on point."
Terrence said he realized the people at Bruce Oake truly cared about helping him make a better life for himself. They believed he could break free from the toxic cycle and that his past did not define him—or his future.
And because Bruce Oake believed in him, Terrence began to believe in himself, too.
Director of Programs Kyle Goertzen said a core tenet of the centre’s philosophy is to help participants deeply explore themselves so they can begin celebrating who they are and living a more authentic life.
“(We ask), ‘What’s meaningful for you? What gives you purpose? What gives you hope? And what does that look like for you in your life?’” Goertzen explained.
“It’s helping you reclaim and reconnect with what’s important to you.”
This person-centred approach to care to help Manitobans engage in long-term recovery is critical—especially right now, as our province faces a crisis of addiction. In 2023, 445 Manitobans died as a result of substance use—due entirely, or at least in part, to the toxic effects of one or more substances, including alcohol. Another 4,763 people were admitted to hospital for substance-related ailments during the same year.
Substance use disorders are progressive and often fatal if untreated.
Additionally, those struggling with addiction often face discrimination and barriers to getting help, which can cause people to hide their addiction from loved ones and medical professionals, affect their ability to find work and housing, and contribute negatively to their overall mental health and well-being.
The Bruce Oake Recovery Centre aims to remove both the stigma associated with addiction—and the barriers to seeking and receiving help. Executive Director Greg Kyllo said the centre’s 50-bed, 16-week live-in treatment program is for “anyone who’s having challenges with substances, is experiencing addiction, and is reaching out for help.”
There are no financial barriers to enter the facility and begin a journey of recovery.
“I’m the generation that’s going to break this cycle of addiction and abuse and neglect and all that stuff.”
During Terrence’s four months of live-in treatment he grew tremendously, and when he finished the program he’d earned a new reputation: as a loyal friend and a fierce champion of sobriety.
So Bruce Oake asked him to stay on as a staff member and support others through their recovery journey, too.
“Terrence is just an incredible example of somebody who just absolutely embraced this new way of living,” Goertzen said. “Nobody can relate to the guys like he can. Guys just feel like there’s no judgment there with him.
“He’s just an incredible human being. He’s really been an asset for us as an organization and he’s a pleasure to have around here.”
Terrence’s work centres around Mamawi Pinesiwak, or Gathering of Thunderbirds—an Indigenous healing program created with funding from United Way Winnipeg donors that supports First Nations, Métis, and Inuit participants at Bruce Oake.
Terrence and a traditional counsellor act as role models and initiate peer sharing and teachings, like pipe ceremonies, treaty walks, smudges, and pow wows.
“I’m just trying to meet these guys where they’re at,” says Terrence of his role as Ska-be, or helper. “(I tell them), ‘I respect that you took the step to come here. I’ve got nothing but love for you. Let me help—help me by letting me help you.
“At the end of the day, you’ve got to make that decision (to stay sober). I can’t walk the walk for you—but I’ll walk with you. I’ll walk alongside you.”
Terrence’s chosen family at Bruce Oake helps him stay focused on his sobriety—and his family outside of work keeps him motivated for the future. In addition to his own growing and grown children, Terrence’s older son gave him the gift of a grandson, born October 1.
Terrence says his grounding as a dad, a grandfather, a partner and friend, and a Ska-be stems from his gratitude for this second chance at life. He shares this gratitude with Creator every day.
“I tell Creator I’m showing gratitude, (and) how grateful I am that He’s in my life today. I’ve learned how to stay connected with Him through the Sundance, sweat lodges, and even through medicines,” Terrence said. “This is my purpose—being a helper, a Ska-be. I do heart work for the community. I try to keep busy doing good things.
“I’m the generation that’s going to break this cycle of addiction and abuse and neglect and all that stuff.”
