Recovering Addicts Seeking to Enter Job Market Receive Star Treatment

Deborah Neroes held out her hand, waiting for a verdict.

Sharon Obeck, a media training consultant, clasped it and shook hello.

“Your hand is limp, telling me you’re not interested,” Obeck said.

Neroes stepped back, took a deep breath and tried again.

“Much better,” Obeck said. “Now I know you’re serious.”

For Neroes, a crack addict for 17 years, now sober for 128 days, this training session wasn’t just about the first handshake in a job interview. She was getting rehabilitated in one of the most unconscious human behaviors: relating well to other people.

In a small West Los Angeles office earlier this month, she and four other recovering addicts broke down for study the glue of interpersonal communication: eye contact, posture, body language, tone. After the isolation inherent in the darkness of their addiction, they practiced the art of sitting confidently, nodding at the right time, looking someone in the eye.

On Camera Communications, a prominent consulting firm for celebrities, authors and CEOs, donated the three-hour communications skills seminar to addicts preparing to graduate from Shields for Families, a South-Central Los Angeles family services organization.

Most of the time, On Camera consultants teach new authors how to handle Larry King, coach celebrities preparing for Oscar night presentations, and instruct corporate executives on how to give top-notch investment presentations. Former clients include Laker star Shaquille O’Neal, attorney Marcia Clark and singer Gloria Estefan, and half-day sessions can run as much as $3,000.

In the twice-a-month communication seminars, which On Camera performs for free, clients learn the mundane mechanics of expressing themselves effectively in job interviews and the workplace.

“We want them to understand their own power and have confidence from the inside out,” said Christen Brown, founder of On Camera and author of “Star Quality,” a book on how to be an effective communicator. “I’ve seen people who are household names and they themselves are working on eye contact. We’re all very human and we all have insecurities.”

Neroes watched herself on a television across the room after speaking on camera. She leaned back in her chair, head cocked to the side, almost afraid to look.

“I’m moving around too much,” she moaned. “Oh, it’s awful!”

Obeck gently interjected. “What you’re saying is very thoughtful,” she said. “But what does it make you think about someone when they’re looking around a lot?”

“That they’re uncomfortable and self-conscious,” Neroes said.

Make eye contact, Obeck told her, and take time to think about what you want to say.

“Everything makes a difference in how you are perceived, and you are in control of that,” Obeck said. “Focus on yourself, your energy level, your body language.”

Only 7% of communication is verbal, she warned. The rest is all in body language and tone of your voice.

She led the group in breathing exercises. Clear your head before you start an interview, she told them. She shook their hands, telling some their grip was too limp, others too tentative.

“I want to feel you are presenting yourself through your handshake as strong and as vital as you are here,” she said.

Then, one by one, they stood in front of the camera. The studio lights went on. They introduced themselves and talked about what they had learned through their drug recovery program.

Lisa Norris, 33, scrunched her face and giggled. “Oh God, I lost my words,” she said.

James Glover, 51, stood stiff, almost frozen in the spotlight. He stumbled, and looked up with a jerk. “Do we get another try?” he asked.

Ebony James, 26, closed her eyes as she spoke. “I didn’t realize I’d be so nervous,” she said after the camera stopped taping.

They played the tape back. Glover kept his hands over his face, peeking at the television through his fingers.

“At the end, you got very focused and you looked into the camera,” Obeck said. “You have a very human, open quality that makes you a good team member and leader.”

Glover smiled broadly.

‘This helped me with my posture and overcoming my shyness,” said Glover, a cocaine addict who has been in recovery for eight months. “And it showed me good points I didn’t know I had. I’m always thinking, ‘I don’t look right, I don’t act right.’ But I guess I did OK.”

The tape rolled, and Obeck gave the rest feedback: Take your time. Focus on a friendly face. Smile. Project, don’t yell.

The group scribbled notes.

“I was always worried about going for a job and feeling inferior, like this person already had something that I wanted to get,” said Felicia Brown, 42, a recovering crack addict who has been in the program for four months. “But now I’m starting to learn what I need to improve and I can relax. I feel like I could take on anything.”

After their camera debuts, the group did role-playing exercises, pretending to ask their boss for a favor.

This time, Neroes sat calmly in her chair, looking another woman in the eye, and politely asked for a few hours off to visit her daughter.

After she was done, the group applauded.

“You were nicely focused and paying attention,” Obeck said. “Your body posture was graceful and you presented yourself well.”

Neroes beamed. “I love this,” she said. “To be able to make eye contact, to have a strength in my attitude--it’s wonderful.”