Sorry for the hiatus in Homelessness Blog... am writing other projects for a month or two, but will come back to this as I can. Thank you for understanding!
--Karen
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Friday, April 16, 2010
Friends
Friends
Inseparable friends, Tom and Bill hang out everyday, work their schedules around one another, sometimes spat as only the best friends can. Cheerfully ready to help someone out, they are very quick to volunteer their friend also. “Yeah, I’ll just go get…”
Funny and charming early in the day, these two likable men liven up a room with laughter and amusing stories.
They do have a third constant companion. Visited everyday, this warmly welcomed guest doesn’t always behave well with them, in spite of the love: Alcohol.
Not comfortable unless the three of them have their plan set out for the day, Tom and Bill review a morning routine that includes a sociable visit with their third companion, and discuss the plans for the three of them through the day.
This third wheel, alcohol, takes over during the course of the day, influencing thinking and actions, deciding who is friend or foe, making decisions about what is immediately important. And then the ultimate is imposed – daily induced semi-amnesia that impairs any decision to contain this sometimes fickle companion.
These friends have a history of living on, or close to, the streets. Now in permanent supported housing, they are beginning to feel comfortable enough in housing to address health issues. They are forming other friendships. Non-judgmental staff are able to encourage and suggest healthy behaviour. They are participating in social activities within housing, and within community.
The hope is for these friends to embrace a healthy life, to share their good humour with others. It may be a long journey, but I, for one, am cheering for them!
Inseparable friends, Tom and Bill hang out everyday, work their schedules around one another, sometimes spat as only the best friends can. Cheerfully ready to help someone out, they are very quick to volunteer their friend also. “Yeah, I’ll just go get…”
Funny and charming early in the day, these two likable men liven up a room with laughter and amusing stories.
They do have a third constant companion. Visited everyday, this warmly welcomed guest doesn’t always behave well with them, in spite of the love: Alcohol.
Not comfortable unless the three of them have their plan set out for the day, Tom and Bill review a morning routine that includes a sociable visit with their third companion, and discuss the plans for the three of them through the day.
This third wheel, alcohol, takes over during the course of the day, influencing thinking and actions, deciding who is friend or foe, making decisions about what is immediately important. And then the ultimate is imposed – daily induced semi-amnesia that impairs any decision to contain this sometimes fickle companion.
These friends have a history of living on, or close to, the streets. Now in permanent supported housing, they are beginning to feel comfortable enough in housing to address health issues. They are forming other friendships. Non-judgmental staff are able to encourage and suggest healthy behaviour. They are participating in social activities within housing, and within community.
The hope is for these friends to embrace a healthy life, to share their good humour with others. It may be a long journey, but I, for one, am cheering for them!
Monday, March 29, 2010
Giving time
Giving time
The email arrived. “Remember me? We met on the ferry last week? I’ve been looking at the website, and I’d love to volunteer… what do I do next?”
Indeed I did remember.
Travelling home on the ferry from Vancouver Island, we’d struck up conversation with one another, shared our stories. Her open and ready smile portrays her friendly and positive attitude. A ready laugh, an approachable manner. She has seen troubles, though. Although in her early 20s the cane she used was temporary, until the knee and hip replacement surgery. And the surgery was only a minimal inconvenience, since the cancer that was going to imminently take her life at age 16 was gone, had been for several years. The extensive organ damage from chemotherapy, a second threat, was also healed. She was happy with the temporary cane.
We met and toured Emergency Shelter and housing in Vancouver’s Downtown Eastside, chatting about what volunteer tasks she saw herself doing. “I’ll do whatever needs to be done. I like people.” Optimism and hope radiate from her. I want to place here where she’ll have contact with people.
She starts her volunteer role this week. And while the task she does is simple and important, the true gift she brings is a genuine friendliness and a positive attitude. She has strength and empathy from having faced death, and yet firmly embraced life.
She is a hero.
The email arrived. “Remember me? We met on the ferry last week? I’ve been looking at the website, and I’d love to volunteer… what do I do next?”
Indeed I did remember.
Travelling home on the ferry from Vancouver Island, we’d struck up conversation with one another, shared our stories. Her open and ready smile portrays her friendly and positive attitude. A ready laugh, an approachable manner. She has seen troubles, though. Although in her early 20s the cane she used was temporary, until the knee and hip replacement surgery. And the surgery was only a minimal inconvenience, since the cancer that was going to imminently take her life at age 16 was gone, had been for several years. The extensive organ damage from chemotherapy, a second threat, was also healed. She was happy with the temporary cane.
We met and toured Emergency Shelter and housing in Vancouver’s Downtown Eastside, chatting about what volunteer tasks she saw herself doing. “I’ll do whatever needs to be done. I like people.” Optimism and hope radiate from her. I want to place here where she’ll have contact with people.
She starts her volunteer role this week. And while the task she does is simple and important, the true gift she brings is a genuine friendliness and a positive attitude. She has strength and empathy from having faced death, and yet firmly embraced life.
She is a hero.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Homelessness - what's after?
Homelessness – what’s after?
Introduce the subject of homelessness into a conversation and you’re almost guaranteed to get an extreme reaction. A reaction that is either a compassionate declaration of action to help people who have hit misfortune, or a politicized lecture on why people shouldn’t be helped, but should perhaps be shipped out-of-province.
Homelessness is not a single issue. It is also not a one-size-fits-all solution.
So… let’s forget about the word “homelessness” for a moment, and consider people.
What about ‘George’? A developmentally disabled more mature adult from BC, George’s family are not in close contact with him. He has a history of living on the street, but that is long in his past. Now he lives in a bachelor suite in a supported (staffed) community, collects a pension that he’s learned to manage, and volunteers every day in an office, running errands or helping where he can.
Or we’ll consider ‘Robert’. A Vancouverite who accepted help to give up alcohol, go back to school, and get himself back on-track to the middle management work that he did before life on the streets.
Or ‘Bill’. A widower, now in retirement housing, who needed help to sort out the paperwork to get housed, to receive his pension. Lost without his wife, he had found himself on the streets, a homeless senior citizen, until offered some direction.
Or ‘John’. A 20-something who ended up on the streets after his Mom passed away, and the relationship with his Dad deteriorated. Given just a little encouragement and help, he is completely on track with full time work and his own condo. And he and his Dad are working on their relationship.
Are there stories that don’t have a happy ending? Sadly, yes, there are. But for the people that we can make a difference for, we do.
You can too.
Introduce the subject of homelessness into a conversation and you’re almost guaranteed to get an extreme reaction. A reaction that is either a compassionate declaration of action to help people who have hit misfortune, or a politicized lecture on why people shouldn’t be helped, but should perhaps be shipped out-of-province.
Homelessness is not a single issue. It is also not a one-size-fits-all solution.
So… let’s forget about the word “homelessness” for a moment, and consider people.
What about ‘George’? A developmentally disabled more mature adult from BC, George’s family are not in close contact with him. He has a history of living on the street, but that is long in his past. Now he lives in a bachelor suite in a supported (staffed) community, collects a pension that he’s learned to manage, and volunteers every day in an office, running errands or helping where he can.
Or we’ll consider ‘Robert’. A Vancouverite who accepted help to give up alcohol, go back to school, and get himself back on-track to the middle management work that he did before life on the streets.
Or ‘Bill’. A widower, now in retirement housing, who needed help to sort out the paperwork to get housed, to receive his pension. Lost without his wife, he had found himself on the streets, a homeless senior citizen, until offered some direction.
Or ‘John’. A 20-something who ended up on the streets after his Mom passed away, and the relationship with his Dad deteriorated. Given just a little encouragement and help, he is completely on track with full time work and his own condo. And he and his Dad are working on their relationship.
Are there stories that don’t have a happy ending? Sadly, yes, there are. But for the people that we can make a difference for, we do.
You can too.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Service outside the box
Service outside the box from inside… the box
The sometimes shocking reality of homelessness is a lack of health care. Yes, we live in Canada where we all have access to health care (which I am thankful for). And yes, technically the homeless have access as well.
The reality is that health care professionals often can’t find the time to treat the homeless. And, because of the assessed risk to self and to others from communicable illnesses – including influenzas – the homeless are discouraged from attending clinics. Their depressed immune systems make them easy prey to the latest viruses.
But some doctors are working around limitations of time and space where they can.
This past week a man came to the Shelter needing a place to stay. It soon became apparent that he was ill, so staff made him comfortable and contacted a Doctor.
This Doctor was time-challenged, but compassionate. And more than that – he was both creative and computer savvy. He connected by Skype to the Shelter, and made a preliminary diagnosis by computer, over the Internet using voice and camera.
While this isn’t a replacement for an in-person medical assessment, it was very much appreciated by staff, the recipients of instruction into the care of this man. A follow up appointment is scheduled.
Bravo!
The sometimes shocking reality of homelessness is a lack of health care. Yes, we live in Canada where we all have access to health care (which I am thankful for). And yes, technically the homeless have access as well.
The reality is that health care professionals often can’t find the time to treat the homeless. And, because of the assessed risk to self and to others from communicable illnesses – including influenzas – the homeless are discouraged from attending clinics. Their depressed immune systems make them easy prey to the latest viruses.
But some doctors are working around limitations of time and space where they can.
This past week a man came to the Shelter needing a place to stay. It soon became apparent that he was ill, so staff made him comfortable and contacted a Doctor.
This Doctor was time-challenged, but compassionate. And more than that – he was both creative and computer savvy. He connected by Skype to the Shelter, and made a preliminary diagnosis by computer, over the Internet using voice and camera.
While this isn’t a replacement for an in-person medical assessment, it was very much appreciated by staff, the recipients of instruction into the care of this man. A follow up appointment is scheduled.
Bravo!
Sunday, March 14, 2010
What's it like?
What’s it like?
“The homeless have it easy.” Stated with the certainty of someone who doesn’t know.
“You have no idea what you’re saying, my friend. I bet you couldn’t go…” The challenge was on.
I watched a youtube video this past week, filmed by a university student who took the challenge to live on the streets, homeless, for 30 days. He had virtually nothing with him for his odyssey, but a backpack and a camera.
The first days were easy for him. He found a decent shelter, was provided a change of clothing, food. I happen to know he would have been given the opportunity to build a plan to become housed. But then he moved on.
He found himself at the kind of shelter that provided a place to crash among many other homeless men, many of whom were ill. He described the smell, the hacking coughs, the restless nights. After several nights, he became quite ill himself, and was advised by the doctor not to return to the shelter, he would become more ill. He made himself a bed in a back alley, truly sleeping on the streets.
He got to know people. He got to experience the grit.
He even chose to try drugs, against the advice of the people who live on the streets. “Don’t try it!” But he found others who would let him do what it was he wanted to do.
When the experience turned really bad, he went home to the great downtown condo that was just waiting for him, several days before his avowed 30 day experience was complete. He slept for hours, and took some time to get healthy.
Did he really experience life on the street? To some degree, yes. He found the friendship and camaraderie among those who share the common trauma of having nothing. He experienced the work of staying alive. He witnessed the downside. He experienced discomfort.
But his experience would have been different from real life on the streets.
For him, this was an adventure, an experiment with an easy “out”. He always had a place to retreat to. He had friends to check on him, and, while he made friends, his life didn’t depend on his street friends. His decision making was coherent, and based on building a full experience – it was not influenced by addiction, or physical or mental illness. He didn’t accept the help to get off the streets, because his agenda was quite different.
Making a difference in the lives of people living on the streets doesn’t happen when you temporarily store your stuff, sleep rough, and get sick along with everyone else. Making a difference happens when the healthy extend a hand of friendship, and help those on the street to get their lives back.
(Note: Volunteer with Agencies or Organizations who are providing services.)
“The homeless have it easy.” Stated with the certainty of someone who doesn’t know.
“You have no idea what you’re saying, my friend. I bet you couldn’t go…” The challenge was on.
I watched a youtube video this past week, filmed by a university student who took the challenge to live on the streets, homeless, for 30 days. He had virtually nothing with him for his odyssey, but a backpack and a camera.
The first days were easy for him. He found a decent shelter, was provided a change of clothing, food. I happen to know he would have been given the opportunity to build a plan to become housed. But then he moved on.
He found himself at the kind of shelter that provided a place to crash among many other homeless men, many of whom were ill. He described the smell, the hacking coughs, the restless nights. After several nights, he became quite ill himself, and was advised by the doctor not to return to the shelter, he would become more ill. He made himself a bed in a back alley, truly sleeping on the streets.
He got to know people. He got to experience the grit.
He even chose to try drugs, against the advice of the people who live on the streets. “Don’t try it!” But he found others who would let him do what it was he wanted to do.
When the experience turned really bad, he went home to the great downtown condo that was just waiting for him, several days before his avowed 30 day experience was complete. He slept for hours, and took some time to get healthy.
Did he really experience life on the street? To some degree, yes. He found the friendship and camaraderie among those who share the common trauma of having nothing. He experienced the work of staying alive. He witnessed the downside. He experienced discomfort.
But his experience would have been different from real life on the streets.
For him, this was an adventure, an experiment with an easy “out”. He always had a place to retreat to. He had friends to check on him, and, while he made friends, his life didn’t depend on his street friends. His decision making was coherent, and based on building a full experience – it was not influenced by addiction, or physical or mental illness. He didn’t accept the help to get off the streets, because his agenda was quite different.
Making a difference in the lives of people living on the streets doesn’t happen when you temporarily store your stuff, sleep rough, and get sick along with everyone else. Making a difference happens when the healthy extend a hand of friendship, and help those on the street to get their lives back.
(Note: Volunteer with Agencies or Organizations who are providing services.)
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Being Found
Being Found
Greta contacted the host of the Reality Show. “Can you help me? I haven’t seen my brother in more than 20 years, and I’d like to know if he’s OK…” The last time her brother, Kurt, had been heard from he was not doing well. She’d heard he was living in Vancouver’s Downtown Eastside, in poverty, homeless.
The TV show host agreed to look into her brother’s whereabouts, and get back to her. It was a challenge to find Kurt. The Shelters respect the privacy – and safety – of guests and residents, and don’t give out information about who is staying in Shelter. People who aren’t in touch with their family are sometimes not eager to be found. Years had passed, memories dimmed. But the TV show host persisted.
The upshot? This weekend Greta is being flown to Vancouver from Europe to be reunited with her brother. He is doing well now, and lives in a suburban neighbourhood. He’s thrilled to be in contact with his sister!
But, shhhh. It’s a secret. Greta doesn’t know that he’s been found, or that her invitation here is to meet him. She thinks she’s just going to help the search. Sunday is the big day!
Although this happy story is unfortunately not a typical experience for those that are homeless, or who live close to the streets, all of us celebrate this reunion.
Greta contacted the host of the Reality Show. “Can you help me? I haven’t seen my brother in more than 20 years, and I’d like to know if he’s OK…” The last time her brother, Kurt, had been heard from he was not doing well. She’d heard he was living in Vancouver’s Downtown Eastside, in poverty, homeless.
The TV show host agreed to look into her brother’s whereabouts, and get back to her. It was a challenge to find Kurt. The Shelters respect the privacy – and safety – of guests and residents, and don’t give out information about who is staying in Shelter. People who aren’t in touch with their family are sometimes not eager to be found. Years had passed, memories dimmed. But the TV show host persisted.
The upshot? This weekend Greta is being flown to Vancouver from Europe to be reunited with her brother. He is doing well now, and lives in a suburban neighbourhood. He’s thrilled to be in contact with his sister!
But, shhhh. It’s a secret. Greta doesn’t know that he’s been found, or that her invitation here is to meet him. She thinks she’s just going to help the search. Sunday is the big day!
Although this happy story is unfortunately not a typical experience for those that are homeless, or who live close to the streets, all of us celebrate this reunion.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Olympics in Vancouver
The Olympics and the Homeless
What an awesome time everyone in Vancouver had during the Olympics! There was singing in the streets. Hugs. Things to do for free. Things to do that were not free! Our lives were on-hold during hockey. We all watched curling. We shared our home with the World gladly. We were so jazzed about the Olympics that any naysayers gave up and went home in the face of mass enthusiasm.
Everyone had an opportunity to share in this rich community event, as VANOC gave a gift of community participation: large screen TVs were installed for everyone to view Olympic events – permanent gifts to be enjoyed long afterwards. And in a classy move, VANOC offered a block events tickets to those living in Shelters and in managed affordable housing.
Attending an event meant so much to our tenants and guests – one man phoned his Dad and his brother just to tell them about the experience. It was a chance not only to be a part of an important community event, but a wonderful opportunity to build on family relationships, a communication bridge.
Before the Olympics, comments about Vancouver and the Olympics always referred to the people who live in poverty, the homeless. And underlying each comment was an unstated certainty that the poor would end up with less.
The Olympics preparation reality – that aged hotels were upgraded to make them liveable, saving important affordable housing stock. That additional programs were put in place to help those in poverty achieve a more stable life. That new homes are being created that are affordable, and include caring staff.
But the big payoff from the Olympics has been increased self esteem, participation in a community building experience, and lives changed for the better. In all walks of life.
What an awesome time everyone in Vancouver had during the Olympics! There was singing in the streets. Hugs. Things to do for free. Things to do that were not free! Our lives were on-hold during hockey. We all watched curling. We shared our home with the World gladly. We were so jazzed about the Olympics that any naysayers gave up and went home in the face of mass enthusiasm.
Everyone had an opportunity to share in this rich community event, as VANOC gave a gift of community participation: large screen TVs were installed for everyone to view Olympic events – permanent gifts to be enjoyed long afterwards. And in a classy move, VANOC offered a block events tickets to those living in Shelters and in managed affordable housing.
Attending an event meant so much to our tenants and guests – one man phoned his Dad and his brother just to tell them about the experience. It was a chance not only to be a part of an important community event, but a wonderful opportunity to build on family relationships, a communication bridge.
Before the Olympics, comments about Vancouver and the Olympics always referred to the people who live in poverty, the homeless. And underlying each comment was an unstated certainty that the poor would end up with less.
The Olympics preparation reality – that aged hotels were upgraded to make them liveable, saving important affordable housing stock. That additional programs were put in place to help those in poverty achieve a more stable life. That new homes are being created that are affordable, and include caring staff.
But the big payoff from the Olympics has been increased self esteem, participation in a community building experience, and lives changed for the better. In all walks of life.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Slavery
“Worker was stabbed 4 times, tasered and robbed. Took her to a park [detail omitted]… Suspects went to jail, worker was very badly injured.”— taken from a recent, and very real, report.
What if you, or the woman in your life became that victim simply by answering an innocuous help-wanted ad for someone seeking a nanny, or extra summer office help in a resort town? What if it were a child, lured by promises of a wonderful life?
For too many, a promised opportunity has turned into a nightmare of slavery. Confinement, physical abuses of the worst kind, forced addiction, and then, broken, being offered for sale, the final freedoms – sense of self – all but gone.
Modern day slavery is very big business. Women and children are captured and sold, forced to work to pay back their captors for their purchase price – often by working in the sex trade.
It is a life characterized by daily danger and a feeling of hopelessness.
But there is hope… the hope that comes with understanding of victims. The hope that comes as we all rise up against this evil and demand strict punishments. Find out what you can do. Then do it.
What if you, or the woman in your life became that victim simply by answering an innocuous help-wanted ad for someone seeking a nanny, or extra summer office help in a resort town? What if it were a child, lured by promises of a wonderful life?
For too many, a promised opportunity has turned into a nightmare of slavery. Confinement, physical abuses of the worst kind, forced addiction, and then, broken, being offered for sale, the final freedoms – sense of self – all but gone.
Modern day slavery is very big business. Women and children are captured and sold, forced to work to pay back their captors for their purchase price – often by working in the sex trade.
It is a life characterized by daily danger and a feeling of hopelessness.
But there is hope… the hope that comes with understanding of victims. The hope that comes as we all rise up against this evil and demand strict punishments. Find out what you can do. Then do it.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Outreach workers
Outreach workers
Outreach worker Ward smiles as he considers the evening before him. “Yeah, going down to the park. We’ll hang out for awhile and give out food. Talk to folks.” He clearly loves the work, which is more about hanging out with friends than punching a clock.
He and his team of volunteers have been doing this for more than two years now, feeding and befriending the homeless, the drug users, the most disenfranchised. “At first the police wanted to move us along, now they wave and come back later.”
He speaks of one park user in particular. “He scared people. Everyone said he was a waste of our time, that he’d never change. After about a year of hanging out this same guy came to me and said that ‘tomorrow’ he was going to quit doing drugs. I said ‘no way man, it’ll be right now, tonight!’ And it was, and he’s been straight ever since!”
When people ask him what his secret is to changing lives he shrugs and smiles. “Share a cup of coffee and a few laughs. Hang out with people and be their friend. Be real. That’s the big ‘secret’!” I’m honest with them, and I like being there.
Ward himself is, at first glance, a potentially scary Presence, but minutes in his company reveals his passion to help people, his genuinely friendly and caring manner.
What can you do to make a difference in the life of someone that is among the disenfranchised? Support folks like Ward, by joining them, or by contributing financially to the cost of the food that he gives out nightly. Offer to volunteer doing something that you love to do. Take action.
You’ll love it!
Outreach worker Ward smiles as he considers the evening before him. “Yeah, going down to the park. We’ll hang out for awhile and give out food. Talk to folks.” He clearly loves the work, which is more about hanging out with friends than punching a clock.
He and his team of volunteers have been doing this for more than two years now, feeding and befriending the homeless, the drug users, the most disenfranchised. “At first the police wanted to move us along, now they wave and come back later.”
He speaks of one park user in particular. “He scared people. Everyone said he was a waste of our time, that he’d never change. After about a year of hanging out this same guy came to me and said that ‘tomorrow’ he was going to quit doing drugs. I said ‘no way man, it’ll be right now, tonight!’ And it was, and he’s been straight ever since!”
When people ask him what his secret is to changing lives he shrugs and smiles. “Share a cup of coffee and a few laughs. Hang out with people and be their friend. Be real. That’s the big ‘secret’!” I’m honest with them, and I like being there.
Ward himself is, at first glance, a potentially scary Presence, but minutes in his company reveals his passion to help people, his genuinely friendly and caring manner.
What can you do to make a difference in the life of someone that is among the disenfranchised? Support folks like Ward, by joining them, or by contributing financially to the cost of the food that he gives out nightly. Offer to volunteer doing something that you love to do. Take action.
You’ll love it!
Thursday, February 25, 2010
How do people become homeless? -- Answer #62
How do people become homeless? – Answer #62
Performing the routine of everyday life, somehow. Not hearing others, the internal conversation (“Why?”) too loud. Enthusiasm evaporated. Looking absently at people, not really recognizing their presence. Work, an automatic function, but somehow not making sense.
Our family recently marked a difficult anniversary: the February date that my sister was found, the victim of suicide; and that same February date, exactly three years later that my infant grandson passed away in hospital. Those were days of raw emotion alternating with a welcome numbness.
We still grieve those losses, and I expect that we always will in the way that grief sometimes lurks around unexpected corners. But we mourned together, and healed together. Friends and community gathered closely around and offered tangible support and words of comfort. We weren’t required to make difficult or life altering decisions at a time when we wouldn’t have been capable of making best choices.
We felt – feel – grateful to friends and to community. It could have gone very differently, as it has for many.
Isolated in grief, unable to think clearly, life could have spiralled into a persistent and self-feeding depression. With the routine of work feeling like a burden and an energy drain, poor decisions may have been made about changing jobs. Or the decision to just go to work each day may have become overwhelming. In a short period of time the landlord would evict for lack of payment. The shame of the whole experience may prevent help being sought from friends, along with a glimmer of “I can do this myself, it’ll all work out.” And the result: homelessness.
Communities need places of refuge for those who have become homeless. They need to provide support to help individuals get past a trauma, whatever the cause, and to get their lives back on track. A safe place, with wise counsel.
And the vital piece of the solution: the caring friendship of others.
Performing the routine of everyday life, somehow. Not hearing others, the internal conversation (“Why?”) too loud. Enthusiasm evaporated. Looking absently at people, not really recognizing their presence. Work, an automatic function, but somehow not making sense.
Our family recently marked a difficult anniversary: the February date that my sister was found, the victim of suicide; and that same February date, exactly three years later that my infant grandson passed away in hospital. Those were days of raw emotion alternating with a welcome numbness.
We still grieve those losses, and I expect that we always will in the way that grief sometimes lurks around unexpected corners. But we mourned together, and healed together. Friends and community gathered closely around and offered tangible support and words of comfort. We weren’t required to make difficult or life altering decisions at a time when we wouldn’t have been capable of making best choices.
We felt – feel – grateful to friends and to community. It could have gone very differently, as it has for many.
Isolated in grief, unable to think clearly, life could have spiralled into a persistent and self-feeding depression. With the routine of work feeling like a burden and an energy drain, poor decisions may have been made about changing jobs. Or the decision to just go to work each day may have become overwhelming. In a short period of time the landlord would evict for lack of payment. The shame of the whole experience may prevent help being sought from friends, along with a glimmer of “I can do this myself, it’ll all work out.” And the result: homelessness.
Communities need places of refuge for those who have become homeless. They need to provide support to help individuals get past a trauma, whatever the cause, and to get their lives back on track. A safe place, with wise counsel.
And the vital piece of the solution: the caring friendship of others.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Making a difference
Making a Difference
We were there to meet people, to make connections, chat. Three hundred business professionals, each with glass in hand, choosing from the tasty canapés that circulated the crowd against a background of soft jazz.
A more different crowd couldn’t be imagined from those that we ended up speaking about, as discussion turned to practical and creative ways to help those who live in poverty, who live on the streets, homeless.
We all agree that giving money to specific and proven Programs helps. But we also agreed that sometimes actions and activities build a necessary energy and momentum around a solution, and that the energy attracts resolution.
Some of the actions that we shared:
o When hearing that clean water to drink was a need for people living on the street, Sharon immediately called water companies seeking donations. To date she has located hundreds and hundreds of cases of water, which is donated directly to those who have this simple and basic need.
o Vivienne and her husband host friends for a meal and conduct an informal fifty-fifty draw, with proceeds going to an organization that works with the homeless. No pressure… but usually the whole pot is donated by the winner.
o Employees volunteer together with an organization, sometimes painting walls, spring cleaning, and sometimes cooking.
o Friends conduct a carwash and donate the proceeds.
o Employees hold a clothing drive.
I reflected, as I left, about the caring hearts of these people. Of how sharing a problem can bring about a creative solution. Of how each one can take one perhaps small, but significant, action and how all together that adds to momentous change for the better. And I realized that people are willing to go beyond their comfort zone to change the world. Sometimes they just need to be shown how.
We were there to meet people, to make connections, chat. Three hundred business professionals, each with glass in hand, choosing from the tasty canapés that circulated the crowd against a background of soft jazz.
A more different crowd couldn’t be imagined from those that we ended up speaking about, as discussion turned to practical and creative ways to help those who live in poverty, who live on the streets, homeless.
We all agree that giving money to specific and proven Programs helps. But we also agreed that sometimes actions and activities build a necessary energy and momentum around a solution, and that the energy attracts resolution.
Some of the actions that we shared:
o When hearing that clean water to drink was a need for people living on the street, Sharon immediately called water companies seeking donations. To date she has located hundreds and hundreds of cases of water, which is donated directly to those who have this simple and basic need.
o Vivienne and her husband host friends for a meal and conduct an informal fifty-fifty draw, with proceeds going to an organization that works with the homeless. No pressure… but usually the whole pot is donated by the winner.
o Employees volunteer together with an organization, sometimes painting walls, spring cleaning, and sometimes cooking.
o Friends conduct a carwash and donate the proceeds.
o Employees hold a clothing drive.
I reflected, as I left, about the caring hearts of these people. Of how sharing a problem can bring about a creative solution. Of how each one can take one perhaps small, but significant, action and how all together that adds to momentous change for the better. And I realized that people are willing to go beyond their comfort zone to change the world. Sometimes they just need to be shown how.
Friday, February 19, 2010
Child of the 60s
Child of the 60s
As a child of the 60s -- albeit one who didn’t participate in the more controversial aspects -- I grew up with a fairly liberal and middle class attitude of acceptance towards friends who made different choices. Individual freedom was where it was at. We’re all OK. Push the boundaries a little.
We had an expectation of good outcomes, and collectively flirted with danger. We just knew that the invincibility of youth would somehow prevail. There was excitement and energy in the air everywhere, and especially in the waterfront areas where folks congregated.
Driving through the Downtown Eastside now, I see a young woman dance down the street, arms waving, oblivious to other people. Oblivious to traffic. Painfully thin. High on crystal meth.
I see the x rays of the brain of a young woman who has retreated into severe mental illness as a result of crystal meth use. She alternates between mumbling and shouting at the disembodied voices. The vast holes (black areas) revealed in the x rays shock me.
A teen smokes pot, surprised that drug tests reveal that it was laced with other substances, unknown to him.
My 60s outlook remains: I still strongly believe in personal freedoms, in the right to behave outrageously (at least to some degree), and to not conform, while respecting and accepting others. But what I’ve seen is that drugs prevent people from being themselves. And that’s unacceptable.
(Sorry if this feels like a rant today, but I challenge you anyway to help someone to make good choices for themselves.)
As a child of the 60s -- albeit one who didn’t participate in the more controversial aspects -- I grew up with a fairly liberal and middle class attitude of acceptance towards friends who made different choices. Individual freedom was where it was at. We’re all OK. Push the boundaries a little.
We had an expectation of good outcomes, and collectively flirted with danger. We just knew that the invincibility of youth would somehow prevail. There was excitement and energy in the air everywhere, and especially in the waterfront areas where folks congregated.
Driving through the Downtown Eastside now, I see a young woman dance down the street, arms waving, oblivious to other people. Oblivious to traffic. Painfully thin. High on crystal meth.
I see the x rays of the brain of a young woman who has retreated into severe mental illness as a result of crystal meth use. She alternates between mumbling and shouting at the disembodied voices. The vast holes (black areas) revealed in the x rays shock me.
A teen smokes pot, surprised that drug tests reveal that it was laced with other substances, unknown to him.
My 60s outlook remains: I still strongly believe in personal freedoms, in the right to behave outrageously (at least to some degree), and to not conform, while respecting and accepting others. But what I’ve seen is that drugs prevent people from being themselves. And that’s unacceptable.
(Sorry if this feels like a rant today, but I challenge you anyway to help someone to make good choices for themselves.)
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Living in a new community
Living in a new community
Bob had lived on the streets for several years. He’d long ago adapted to a wary existence, sleeping during the safety of the daytime, wherever he could find a corner. He would spend nights looking for stuff that could be recycled for a few cents, or perhaps huddle with several friends, safer in numbers, a close small community.
He knew that being inside now and in his own place was a good thing, something he was grateful for. But somehow he just couldn’t sleep at night, especially on that soft mattress. When he slept, he usually ended up on the floor. At night he sometimes hit the streets out of habit, missing friends, even the bad ones.
People who have slept rough for years, who have adapted to sleeping patterns that have kept them safe must spend some time adjusting to life in warmth and safety.
Learning how to survive life on the streets hadn’t happened overnight, just as relearning how to fully live in community was taking some time, was work -- developing trust, forming new habits, making new friends… learning, making different choices, healthy choices that also equal loneliness as former friends are forsaken.
What’s the incentive to change, to abandon familiar people, familiar activities? Caring people that encourage healthy choices, who are there ready to build relationship and offer friendship. Change happens within, and for, relationship.
Bob had lived on the streets for several years. He’d long ago adapted to a wary existence, sleeping during the safety of the daytime, wherever he could find a corner. He would spend nights looking for stuff that could be recycled for a few cents, or perhaps huddle with several friends, safer in numbers, a close small community.
He knew that being inside now and in his own place was a good thing, something he was grateful for. But somehow he just couldn’t sleep at night, especially on that soft mattress. When he slept, he usually ended up on the floor. At night he sometimes hit the streets out of habit, missing friends, even the bad ones.
People who have slept rough for years, who have adapted to sleeping patterns that have kept them safe must spend some time adjusting to life in warmth and safety.
Learning how to survive life on the streets hadn’t happened overnight, just as relearning how to fully live in community was taking some time, was work -- developing trust, forming new habits, making new friends… learning, making different choices, healthy choices that also equal loneliness as former friends are forsaken.
What’s the incentive to change, to abandon familiar people, familiar activities? Caring people that encourage healthy choices, who are there ready to build relationship and offer friendship. Change happens within, and for, relationship.
Friday, February 12, 2010
Unpredictable side
Unpredictable side
I was in the Shelter office, on hold for the Producer of a local morning TV news magazine.
Fairly new to working in an Emergency Shelter, I thought that it’d be a great idea to demystify Shelter life by inviting the crew over to tape a segment from our location.
While listening to generic “hold” music I looked out in the lobby, thinking about where the cameras could set up. Privacy, always important to preserve, could be maintained by placing a camera where Shelter guests could be in front of it, or easily avoid it, whichever they chose. The front desk had the appearance of a very clean, inexpensive hotel, perhaps over there…
Everyone I’d met, both staff and guests, were friendly, regular folks, some of whom happened to be down on their luck. As “hold” time continued, a muttering outside the office became louder. Unconcerned, I continued to consider the storyline of normalcy and safety. The muttering outside the office escalated to a single voice shouting loudly, before the young woman responsible went outside. Somewhat fortunately, “hold” went on still longer, and I disconnected, to try another day.
I was seeing the sometimes unpredictable side of Shelter life.
This lovely young woman was muttering to the voices that spoke to her in her illness, an illness made worse by the drugs that had eaten at her brain. She left us shortly after that, back to the hospital.
I was in the Shelter office, on hold for the Producer of a local morning TV news magazine.
Fairly new to working in an Emergency Shelter, I thought that it’d be a great idea to demystify Shelter life by inviting the crew over to tape a segment from our location.
While listening to generic “hold” music I looked out in the lobby, thinking about where the cameras could set up. Privacy, always important to preserve, could be maintained by placing a camera where Shelter guests could be in front of it, or easily avoid it, whichever they chose. The front desk had the appearance of a very clean, inexpensive hotel, perhaps over there…
Everyone I’d met, both staff and guests, were friendly, regular folks, some of whom happened to be down on their luck. As “hold” time continued, a muttering outside the office became louder. Unconcerned, I continued to consider the storyline of normalcy and safety. The muttering outside the office escalated to a single voice shouting loudly, before the young woman responsible went outside. Somewhat fortunately, “hold” went on still longer, and I disconnected, to try another day.
I was seeing the sometimes unpredictable side of Shelter life.
This lovely young woman was muttering to the voices that spoke to her in her illness, an illness made worse by the drugs that had eaten at her brain. She left us shortly after that, back to the hospital.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Stop and look...
Stop and look...
Bill started to chase the homeless guy away from the store parking lot yet again, but this time something stopped him. This time Bill looked at him… really looked him in the face, “What are we doing this for? You hang around, I ask you to leave, and we keep doing this week after week. What’s up?”
The two men started a dialogue then for the first time, surprisingly finding some common ground as they identified mutual family friends. Some similarities of growing up in similar neighbourhoods emerged. Of being close in age.
How did the homelessness come about?
A bad workplace accident that kept this man hospitalized for almost a year, during which time he lost his apartment and much of his stuff. Left with brain injury he was discharged to go back to a life he no longer recognized, eventually ending up on the street.
“Do you have any money? What about a Disability claim?” Bill wanted to know. Hearing that the paperwork itself was the problem, Bill brought in another friend, and the three of them helped to fill out the correct paperwork – a beginning to life off the street.
Bravo to this businessman who took a moment to stop and look, who found out to help, and then made a difference in someone’s life.
Bill started to chase the homeless guy away from the store parking lot yet again, but this time something stopped him. This time Bill looked at him… really looked him in the face, “What are we doing this for? You hang around, I ask you to leave, and we keep doing this week after week. What’s up?”
The two men started a dialogue then for the first time, surprisingly finding some common ground as they identified mutual family friends. Some similarities of growing up in similar neighbourhoods emerged. Of being close in age.
How did the homelessness come about?
A bad workplace accident that kept this man hospitalized for almost a year, during which time he lost his apartment and much of his stuff. Left with brain injury he was discharged to go back to a life he no longer recognized, eventually ending up on the street.
“Do you have any money? What about a Disability claim?” Bill wanted to know. Hearing that the paperwork itself was the problem, Bill brought in another friend, and the three of them helped to fill out the correct paperwork – a beginning to life off the street.
Bravo to this businessman who took a moment to stop and look, who found out to help, and then made a difference in someone’s life.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
What's your reason?
What’s your reason?
Even the day after dental surgery, Bob was engagingly funny as we chatted in the Emergency Shelter where he temporarily stays. He shared a little of his life. “Yeah, I slept outside for a long time now. Years probably. Then Dave came across the street one day and asked if I had any income at all, at least welfare or disability or pension, and why not. And that he’d help. He got me here, and we’re taking care of my health. He’s a great guy.”
Do you ever look at a ragged looking person on the street corner and experience a flash of emotions tumbling together?
• Fear. (Will I be robbed or attacked? Will I be made to feel uncomfortable because I have stuff and they don’t seem to?)
• Superiority. (I would never have let myself get like this.)
• Impatience. (I don’t have time for this!)
• Anger. (I shouldn’t have to deal with this.)
• Indifference. (They chose this, they’ll figure it out. Just as long as they leave me alone!)
• Judgment. (They made bad choices and now they’re living with them.)
Or... compassion?
Would you cross the street to ask if someone needed help?
The most effective ways to offer help are to assist in connecting the hurting with the people and organizations that are best equipped to address their needs. The staff in sheltering organizations are experienced in addressing people’s needs, whether the issue is housing, ill health, addiction, or another. Google and find out how you can refer people, how you can volunteer, how you can make a difference.
Even the day after dental surgery, Bob was engagingly funny as we chatted in the Emergency Shelter where he temporarily stays. He shared a little of his life. “Yeah, I slept outside for a long time now. Years probably. Then Dave came across the street one day and asked if I had any income at all, at least welfare or disability or pension, and why not. And that he’d help. He got me here, and we’re taking care of my health. He’s a great guy.”
Do you ever look at a ragged looking person on the street corner and experience a flash of emotions tumbling together?
• Fear. (Will I be robbed or attacked? Will I be made to feel uncomfortable because I have stuff and they don’t seem to?)
• Superiority. (I would never have let myself get like this.)
• Impatience. (I don’t have time for this!)
• Anger. (I shouldn’t have to deal with this.)
• Indifference. (They chose this, they’ll figure it out. Just as long as they leave me alone!)
• Judgment. (They made bad choices and now they’re living with them.)
Or... compassion?
Would you cross the street to ask if someone needed help?
The most effective ways to offer help are to assist in connecting the hurting with the people and organizations that are best equipped to address their needs. The staff in sheltering organizations are experienced in addressing people’s needs, whether the issue is housing, ill health, addiction, or another. Google and find out how you can refer people, how you can volunteer, how you can make a difference.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Harm reduction
Harm Reduction
Speed limits. Cross walks. Innoculations. Physical checkups.
Most of us agree with this type of harm reduction (whether we think they should be meant for us or not!).
Less easy to sort-out for many: harm reduction choices such as free condoms or abstinence, safe injection sites or detox beds.
But what about the even more controversial types of harm reduction? Decisions that are a choice between which one is less harmful, knowing both choices are not healthy?
I was challenged on that this week. I was horrified to hear the story of a chronic and very ill alcoholic who ended up in Shelter. Staff worked hard at finding a detox bed for this individual, and eventually succeeded – although it was several hours away.
Then began the work of keeping this person alive until the detox bed was ready. The ambulance was called, but didn’t help -- couldn't help, because this person summoned just enough lucidity to turn away assistance. At the same time there was a very real and high risk of death due to seizure from alcohol withdrawal.
Because of the advanced state of alcoholism (which combined a high need for the substance-of-choice with a complete inability to make rational or healthy choices) there were some difficult choices for staff for the short term:
• Evict someone to the street whose behaviour was extremely challenging and harmful to themselves (knowing that this was likely a death sentence).
• Give in and, against policy (and realizing that the "substance of choice" acted as a poison to this individual) turn a blind eye to imbibing.
• Find some middle ground that built relationship, that respected freedom of choices, followed policy, and kept this person safe for the 36 hours.
It was a difficult weekend, but the client made it to detox, thanks to staff.
There are those who ask, "Why bother - if s/he doesn't respect their own life, why should we?" And of course there are many answers to that, but they come down to this: Where there is life, there is hope.
Speed limits. Cross walks. Innoculations. Physical checkups.
Most of us agree with this type of harm reduction (whether we think they should be meant for us or not!).
Less easy to sort-out for many: harm reduction choices such as free condoms or abstinence, safe injection sites or detox beds.
But what about the even more controversial types of harm reduction? Decisions that are a choice between which one is less harmful, knowing both choices are not healthy?
I was challenged on that this week. I was horrified to hear the story of a chronic and very ill alcoholic who ended up in Shelter. Staff worked hard at finding a detox bed for this individual, and eventually succeeded – although it was several hours away.
Then began the work of keeping this person alive until the detox bed was ready. The ambulance was called, but didn’t help -- couldn't help, because this person summoned just enough lucidity to turn away assistance. At the same time there was a very real and high risk of death due to seizure from alcohol withdrawal.
Because of the advanced state of alcoholism (which combined a high need for the substance-of-choice with a complete inability to make rational or healthy choices) there were some difficult choices for staff for the short term:
• Evict someone to the street whose behaviour was extremely challenging and harmful to themselves (knowing that this was likely a death sentence).
• Give in and, against policy (and realizing that the "substance of choice" acted as a poison to this individual) turn a blind eye to imbibing.
• Find some middle ground that built relationship, that respected freedom of choices, followed policy, and kept this person safe for the 36 hours.
It was a difficult weekend, but the client made it to detox, thanks to staff.
There are those who ask, "Why bother - if s/he doesn't respect their own life, why should we?" And of course there are many answers to that, but they come down to this: Where there is life, there is hope.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Giving back
Giving back
The guys were out celebrating their carwash earnings, deciding what to do with the proceeds. A simple lunch, lots of laughs, lots of ideas. The earnings paid for the lunch, of course – that part was understood. And they’d always wanted one or two little things for the clubhouse. But with the rest of it, the most of it, they decided to fund four micro businesses overseas. Which countries… they each chose a favourite country, either randomly, or because of a friendship connection, and sent the money.
Not a big deal, you’re thinking? What if you know that these guys live in what is described as the poorest postal code in Canada in Vancouver’s Downtown Eastside. They know what it’s like to go without, to be homeless. And still they gave a helping hand to someone else with the little money they earned.
They are members of an Activity Centre that serves the severely mentally ill, and have been diagnosed with illnesses ranging from depression to mood disorders, though you wouldn’t know it if you met them. They participate in community, locally and globally, encouraged by staff at the Activity Centre who have built relationships with the members.
And the micro loans? All have been repaid from that first investment. The guys have chosen other recipients of another series of loans, and continue to make a difference in the world.
The guys were out celebrating their carwash earnings, deciding what to do with the proceeds. A simple lunch, lots of laughs, lots of ideas. The earnings paid for the lunch, of course – that part was understood. And they’d always wanted one or two little things for the clubhouse. But with the rest of it, the most of it, they decided to fund four micro businesses overseas. Which countries… they each chose a favourite country, either randomly, or because of a friendship connection, and sent the money.
Not a big deal, you’re thinking? What if you know that these guys live in what is described as the poorest postal code in Canada in Vancouver’s Downtown Eastside. They know what it’s like to go without, to be homeless. And still they gave a helping hand to someone else with the little money they earned.
They are members of an Activity Centre that serves the severely mentally ill, and have been diagnosed with illnesses ranging from depression to mood disorders, though you wouldn’t know it if you met them. They participate in community, locally and globally, encouraged by staff at the Activity Centre who have built relationships with the members.
And the micro loans? All have been repaid from that first investment. The guys have chosen other recipients of another series of loans, and continue to make a difference in the world.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Hidden Homeless
Hidden Homeless
At a recent homelessness-awareness event, I chatted with a reporter about some of the realities of homelessness. As we spoke of the positive steps that have been taken recently to decrease homelessness and provide housing and services, a woman casually circulating the crowd drew closer. The conversation turned to the realities of homelessness, when she interjected, “I live in my car, and I have for a few years.”
In the brief pause that followed this astonishing claim, I noted that she could have been from any of the downtown business towers around us. She was about my age, comfortably well dressed, and well groomed. She had a volunteer badge identifying her with one of the homeless action groups in Vancouver.
Invited to share her story, although waiting until we were alone, she didn’t go into a lot of detail, but explained, “Late in the evening I go to a parking lot that I know is safe and well lit, lock my doors and sleep for the night.” She added, “a lot of mornings I wake up to see other cars parked nearby, but separately, all with women in them sleeping. We don’t socialize, we’re just looking for someplace safe to be.” When asked, “yes, sometimes there are kids.”
We didn’t have the opportunity to talk further about her life, although I took comfort in her affiliation and relationship with a recognized organization. But I’ve wondered about her life since then. About the realities of a life that is influenced by weather conditions. Of daily routines that don’t include the ready convenience of a nearby bathroom or washing facilities.
I was very much affected by her story. She is homeless in a place that is characterized by caring people who want to help, by organizations that exist to help, by systems that are adapting to help. I hope that the next time I see her she is safely housed.
At a recent homelessness-awareness event, I chatted with a reporter about some of the realities of homelessness. As we spoke of the positive steps that have been taken recently to decrease homelessness and provide housing and services, a woman casually circulating the crowd drew closer. The conversation turned to the realities of homelessness, when she interjected, “I live in my car, and I have for a few years.”
In the brief pause that followed this astonishing claim, I noted that she could have been from any of the downtown business towers around us. She was about my age, comfortably well dressed, and well groomed. She had a volunteer badge identifying her with one of the homeless action groups in Vancouver.
Invited to share her story, although waiting until we were alone, she didn’t go into a lot of detail, but explained, “Late in the evening I go to a parking lot that I know is safe and well lit, lock my doors and sleep for the night.” She added, “a lot of mornings I wake up to see other cars parked nearby, but separately, all with women in them sleeping. We don’t socialize, we’re just looking for someplace safe to be.” When asked, “yes, sometimes there are kids.”
We didn’t have the opportunity to talk further about her life, although I took comfort in her affiliation and relationship with a recognized organization. But I’ve wondered about her life since then. About the realities of a life that is influenced by weather conditions. Of daily routines that don’t include the ready convenience of a nearby bathroom or washing facilities.
I was very much affected by her story. She is homeless in a place that is characterized by caring people who want to help, by organizations that exist to help, by systems that are adapting to help. I hope that the next time I see her she is safely housed.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Knowing the homeless
Knowing the Homeless
Driving around town eating our mid-winter ice creams we stopped for a few minutes. “See that guy over there? The one by the white van? We went to school together here in town. Now he lives in that van.” Melancholy in the comment.
Aghast, the question, “what can we do to help him?”
The brief story ensued of a life that had fallen apart after divorce. Of distant relationships with grown children. Of broken friendships. How, indeed, could we make a difference? We would undoubtedly be rejected, our best efforts a waste. Best to not try. To one another we hoped that this man’s life would mend, and that his children would help him eventually. That was six years ago. Sad to say, I don’t know what became of him.
Broken relationships are a characteristic of homelessness, for a wide assortment of reasons. Whether homeless because there was no one to help during difficult times, as an escape from abuse or as an escape to addiction, as a result of poor choices or from a feeling of having no choice, those who are homeless desperately need someone who cares, someone objective and real and honest with them. Someone who loves them selflessly, and in spite of poor choices, in spite of bad luck or current circumstance.
The profoundly homeless are at the most unlovely place in their lives. Often struggling with health issues (including stress related disorder, mental illness, physical disability and at times, addictions), these are people also struggling to stay alive in an unfriendly environment.
They may be dirty (where can they shower?). They may be suspicious of people (they’ve been habitually let down, or worse). They may be ill (if they make it to a clinic, even doctors turn them away). They need to feel and be cared for in the face of all of that.
What should we have done those six years ago?
Walked over to that man and started a friendly conversation, invited him to have a cup of coffee with us, and a pastry. Listened to him. Made a point of seeing him at least a couple of times a month and sharing a meal. We should have built a respectful relationship with him. And as the relationship built and time passed, we would have had the opportunity to ask about his life goals, and if there were ways we could help (please note: not told him what he needed, and not informed him what we would do). We might have put him in contact with others who could best be of specific help, as we continued to be his friend.
But the better question: What could we have done if he were our friend twelve years ago, before the homelessness? The answer: Taken him out for coffee and a pastry. Listened to him, and as we listened and built respectful relationship, asked how we could help. Even if we sided with his wife in the divorce? Yes. Even if we thought he’d made some poor life choices? Yes. He could have used the honest voice of a good friend then. And perhaps his life would have been vastly different.
Driving around town eating our mid-winter ice creams we stopped for a few minutes. “See that guy over there? The one by the white van? We went to school together here in town. Now he lives in that van.” Melancholy in the comment.
Aghast, the question, “what can we do to help him?”
The brief story ensued of a life that had fallen apart after divorce. Of distant relationships with grown children. Of broken friendships. How, indeed, could we make a difference? We would undoubtedly be rejected, our best efforts a waste. Best to not try. To one another we hoped that this man’s life would mend, and that his children would help him eventually. That was six years ago. Sad to say, I don’t know what became of him.
Broken relationships are a characteristic of homelessness, for a wide assortment of reasons. Whether homeless because there was no one to help during difficult times, as an escape from abuse or as an escape to addiction, as a result of poor choices or from a feeling of having no choice, those who are homeless desperately need someone who cares, someone objective and real and honest with them. Someone who loves them selflessly, and in spite of poor choices, in spite of bad luck or current circumstance.
The profoundly homeless are at the most unlovely place in their lives. Often struggling with health issues (including stress related disorder, mental illness, physical disability and at times, addictions), these are people also struggling to stay alive in an unfriendly environment.
They may be dirty (where can they shower?). They may be suspicious of people (they’ve been habitually let down, or worse). They may be ill (if they make it to a clinic, even doctors turn them away). They need to feel and be cared for in the face of all of that.
What should we have done those six years ago?
Walked over to that man and started a friendly conversation, invited him to have a cup of coffee with us, and a pastry. Listened to him. Made a point of seeing him at least a couple of times a month and sharing a meal. We should have built a respectful relationship with him. And as the relationship built and time passed, we would have had the opportunity to ask about his life goals, and if there were ways we could help (please note: not told him what he needed, and not informed him what we would do). We might have put him in contact with others who could best be of specific help, as we continued to be his friend.
But the better question: What could we have done if he were our friend twelve years ago, before the homelessness? The answer: Taken him out for coffee and a pastry. Listened to him, and as we listened and built respectful relationship, asked how we could help. Even if we sided with his wife in the divorce? Yes. Even if we thought he’d made some poor life choices? Yes. He could have used the honest voice of a good friend then. And perhaps his life would have been vastly different.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Asset Development
Asset Development
Caring family; positive role models; time used constructively; friends who behave responsibly; volunteer activities in community; reading for fun; honesty; being a friend; having high self esteem…
Not all assets are financial.
Imagine a community of people that act with integrity, use time constructively, who behave responsibly. People who feel good about themselves, and give of themselves to friends, and give through community volunteerism. Their lives are not ruled by fear or defined by lack or by feeling less-than, but they are certain of their own value and place in the world.
The parent, the community member, the support worker ask, “How do we encourage and develop these qualities, these personal assets – in our kids, and in the people in my community that really need encouragement. How do I enhance it in myself?”
It has been said that significant change is not possible without significant relationship. I have a vision. A vision in which leaders from all levels of our communities band together, determined to offer support and vision and positive role modeling – significant relationship – to youth, to those living in poverty, and to one another.
What would happen?
Our communities will be transformed.
Caring family; positive role models; time used constructively; friends who behave responsibly; volunteer activities in community; reading for fun; honesty; being a friend; having high self esteem…
Not all assets are financial.
Imagine a community of people that act with integrity, use time constructively, who behave responsibly. People who feel good about themselves, and give of themselves to friends, and give through community volunteerism. Their lives are not ruled by fear or defined by lack or by feeling less-than, but they are certain of their own value and place in the world.
The parent, the community member, the support worker ask, “How do we encourage and develop these qualities, these personal assets – in our kids, and in the people in my community that really need encouragement. How do I enhance it in myself?”
It has been said that significant change is not possible without significant relationship. I have a vision. A vision in which leaders from all levels of our communities band together, determined to offer support and vision and positive role modeling – significant relationship – to youth, to those living in poverty, and to one another.
What would happen?
Our communities will be transformed.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Boundaries
Boundaries
“…and I got my nickname when I was around 3, maybe 2 or 3, my sister couldn’t say my name quite right, so she called me….” Street-entrenched from years of sleeping rough, but newly Sheltered, ‘Rick’ confides parts of his past. “and I was in rehab, and we were all best friends and brothers, and it was great, we all felt good, and then…”
In our brief conversation, Rick was engagingly funny, quick with one liners and jokes. He spoke frankly of the struggle to stay sober and face issues from his past. He got visibly angry with another resident for a rude look and “dropping the F bomb.” He defended his personal space vigorously, then apologized to me, in tears, for being inappropriate in my presence. “I’m finally off the street, but the street is still in me…” he commented. His personal boundaries, sharply intact, are different from mine, and based on survival. “I’m learning…” he says.
Another conversation begins with a different visitor a bit later, “…and understanding boundaries is so important when you work at Outreach, making sure that people don’t invade your space too much. And I have to make sure my boundaries are in place and not judge people or make rules for them based on my personal values. Constantly balancing empathy and wanting to help (which is why I love this job), with allowing people to experience some of the consequences of their actions – as long as they’re safe, of course! – it’s difficult sometimes…” He relates the story of an elderly Mom who, living in poverty herself, gives of her limited means to a profoundly mentally ill son who lives on the streets. A loving gesture, but a gesture that gives her son permission to not seek the medical help he really needs. “I sometimes help her look for her son because it eases her mind to see him and give him some money, but at the same time I’m trying to encourage her to look after herself…”
Personal boundaries are set based on values, comforting familiarity, and the needs of personal safety. If boundaries have been set in some relationships based on false information, or based on a condition that has changed, it may take another significant relationship to help make the boundaries-shift. That is what the Outreach Teams do so well with those who have been homeless: allow them to comfortably explore what they believe about their own ability, and challenge them to embrace a newly imagined future.
“…and I got my nickname when I was around 3, maybe 2 or 3, my sister couldn’t say my name quite right, so she called me….” Street-entrenched from years of sleeping rough, but newly Sheltered, ‘Rick’ confides parts of his past. “and I was in rehab, and we were all best friends and brothers, and it was great, we all felt good, and then…”
In our brief conversation, Rick was engagingly funny, quick with one liners and jokes. He spoke frankly of the struggle to stay sober and face issues from his past. He got visibly angry with another resident for a rude look and “dropping the F bomb.” He defended his personal space vigorously, then apologized to me, in tears, for being inappropriate in my presence. “I’m finally off the street, but the street is still in me…” he commented. His personal boundaries, sharply intact, are different from mine, and based on survival. “I’m learning…” he says.
Another conversation begins with a different visitor a bit later, “…and understanding boundaries is so important when you work at Outreach, making sure that people don’t invade your space too much. And I have to make sure my boundaries are in place and not judge people or make rules for them based on my personal values. Constantly balancing empathy and wanting to help (which is why I love this job), with allowing people to experience some of the consequences of their actions – as long as they’re safe, of course! – it’s difficult sometimes…” He relates the story of an elderly Mom who, living in poverty herself, gives of her limited means to a profoundly mentally ill son who lives on the streets. A loving gesture, but a gesture that gives her son permission to not seek the medical help he really needs. “I sometimes help her look for her son because it eases her mind to see him and give him some money, but at the same time I’m trying to encourage her to look after herself…”
Personal boundaries are set based on values, comforting familiarity, and the needs of personal safety. If boundaries have been set in some relationships based on false information, or based on a condition that has changed, it may take another significant relationship to help make the boundaries-shift. That is what the Outreach Teams do so well with those who have been homeless: allow them to comfortably explore what they believe about their own ability, and challenge them to embrace a newly imagined future.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Literacy
Literacy
Mandy sat among her close friends, mortified because it was going to be her turn to read next. They looked at her, smiling, expectantly. Her heart was pounding. “No, I’ll pass this time, you go.” The next woman took the turn amiably, no one the wiser.
The time came when the friends made noises of departure. Mandy stopped them. She knew it was time to come clean. “Listen you guys, she began. I have something I want to tell you.” She was nervous, but kept going, “you are my friends, and I feel good sharing this with you, and it’s time. I can’t read.” She went on, quickly, “But I’m going to learn now, and I just want you to be patient with me.”
That was many years ago. “Mandy” not only learned how to read, she learned to teach, and works with men and women who are facing difficult times. She overcame the label that she had put on herself of "stupid".
While having skill at reading is important in our society, adults who don’t read often give up trying to learn because they feel shame at admitting it, label themselves as stupid, and suffer from low self esteem – and this despite demonstrated brilliance and success in other areas of their lives.
Literacy is commonly associated with the 3Rs (Reading, wRiting, aRithmetic) and has extended to a basic knowledge of technology – but encompasses so much more. It is also about being able to express ideas and opinions appropriately, make decisions and problem-solve, and is about knowing how to be effective in family and in community. Illiterate does not equal worthless. Illiterate equals opportunity-to-learn important skills for life. We need to recognize and embrace the concept of opportunity.
Mandy was fortunate in knowing what she wanted to do, she had a goal. She knew how to go about working at the goal, and access learning. She had a support system of friends and family. And she had the determination to stick with it, and a schedule that allowed learning.
Not everyone has those advantages. Some haven’t learned to read or to be functionally literate because of a learning disability, or a chaotic home life, or an interrupted education, or because they’ve been told until they believe it that they’ll never learn.
They may end up on the street or in a Shelter, not knowing “what” they don’t know, but feeling certain that the problem is a lack within them, afraid to share that thought. People will often share deeply personal issues and abuses before they share their reading inability.
The great news is that with the help of both learning organizations and volunteer mentors, we can make a difference. The first step is to take away the stigma associated with not having a certain level of knowledge (e.g., reading, problem solving). All learning starts somewhere. The next step is to support learning in the ways that you can. Learn more about how you can help.
Together, we make a difference in our communities, to our people.
To find out more about how you can help, contact your local Board of Education (now mandated for education from cradle to grave), or send me an email, and I’ll put you in touch with an organization.
Mandy sat among her close friends, mortified because it was going to be her turn to read next. They looked at her, smiling, expectantly. Her heart was pounding. “No, I’ll pass this time, you go.” The next woman took the turn amiably, no one the wiser.
The time came when the friends made noises of departure. Mandy stopped them. She knew it was time to come clean. “Listen you guys, she began. I have something I want to tell you.” She was nervous, but kept going, “you are my friends, and I feel good sharing this with you, and it’s time. I can’t read.” She went on, quickly, “But I’m going to learn now, and I just want you to be patient with me.”
That was many years ago. “Mandy” not only learned how to read, she learned to teach, and works with men and women who are facing difficult times. She overcame the label that she had put on herself of "stupid".
While having skill at reading is important in our society, adults who don’t read often give up trying to learn because they feel shame at admitting it, label themselves as stupid, and suffer from low self esteem – and this despite demonstrated brilliance and success in other areas of their lives.
Literacy is commonly associated with the 3Rs (Reading, wRiting, aRithmetic) and has extended to a basic knowledge of technology – but encompasses so much more. It is also about being able to express ideas and opinions appropriately, make decisions and problem-solve, and is about knowing how to be effective in family and in community. Illiterate does not equal worthless. Illiterate equals opportunity-to-learn important skills for life. We need to recognize and embrace the concept of opportunity.
Mandy was fortunate in knowing what she wanted to do, she had a goal. She knew how to go about working at the goal, and access learning. She had a support system of friends and family. And she had the determination to stick with it, and a schedule that allowed learning.
Not everyone has those advantages. Some haven’t learned to read or to be functionally literate because of a learning disability, or a chaotic home life, or an interrupted education, or because they’ve been told until they believe it that they’ll never learn.
They may end up on the street or in a Shelter, not knowing “what” they don’t know, but feeling certain that the problem is a lack within them, afraid to share that thought. People will often share deeply personal issues and abuses before they share their reading inability.
The great news is that with the help of both learning organizations and volunteer mentors, we can make a difference. The first step is to take away the stigma associated with not having a certain level of knowledge (e.g., reading, problem solving). All learning starts somewhere. The next step is to support learning in the ways that you can. Learn more about how you can help.
Together, we make a difference in our communities, to our people.
To find out more about how you can help, contact your local Board of Education (now mandated for education from cradle to grave), or send me an email, and I’ll put you in touch with an organization.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Homeless don't choose to be homeless
Homeless don’t choose to be homeless
This past week I’ve heard the phrase several times: “the homeless want to be homeless”, in ‘that’ tone, often accompanied by a knowing nod and raised eyebrows. Usually from people who don’t know anyone who actually has ever been homeless (at least, to their knowledge). I think that what I object to the most about that is the subtle inference that losing your home is equivalent to losing your right to some dignity and self respect.
There are so many reasons for homelessness, and so many situations, it’s impossible to generalize in that way! People’s homeless experience may see them sofa-surfing, staying with friends and family because they can’t find a place. They may sleep in a vehicle. They may find their way to temporary housing, a Shelter. They may find themselves absolutely homeless, and seek a safe place to sleep.
They may be homeless for just a few nights as they wait for a job or an opportunity. Or they may be homeless for a longer period. Studies show that if even the most educated and bright people are absolutely homeless for six months or more, their thought processes go into survival mode from necessity, and it becomes more difficult for them to access housing.
And the reasons for homelessness range from being between jobs, to suffering the effects of a difficult post-divorce experience. Ill-health (physical and/or mental) and addiction may play a part. Sometimes lack of education plays a part, sometimes unfortunate choices.
Yes, there are (national stats) 3% of the population who choose to live outside of housing. But the vast majority want a roof, food, and a friend.
Homelessness is a temporary condition suffered by worthy individuals, many of whom need some help to get their lives back.
I was reading about some celebrities who have been homeless, and that the reasons with them varied greatly. More information can be found at http://www.angelfire.com/stars4/lists/homeless.html.
They went on to make this list:
Nobel Prize Winners: 1
Nobel Prize Nominees: 2 (includes above)
Oscar Winners: 6
Oscar Nominees: 10 (includes above)
Emmy Award Winners: 8
Emmy Award Nominees: 11 (includes above)
Grammy Award Winners: 9
Grammy Award Nominees: 13 (includes above)
Best-Selling Authors: 7
Presidential Medal of Freedom recipients (U.S.'s highest civilian honor): 1
Knighthoods: 1
This past week I’ve heard the phrase several times: “the homeless want to be homeless”, in ‘that’ tone, often accompanied by a knowing nod and raised eyebrows. Usually from people who don’t know anyone who actually has ever been homeless (at least, to their knowledge). I think that what I object to the most about that is the subtle inference that losing your home is equivalent to losing your right to some dignity and self respect.
There are so many reasons for homelessness, and so many situations, it’s impossible to generalize in that way! People’s homeless experience may see them sofa-surfing, staying with friends and family because they can’t find a place. They may sleep in a vehicle. They may find their way to temporary housing, a Shelter. They may find themselves absolutely homeless, and seek a safe place to sleep.
They may be homeless for just a few nights as they wait for a job or an opportunity. Or they may be homeless for a longer period. Studies show that if even the most educated and bright people are absolutely homeless for six months or more, their thought processes go into survival mode from necessity, and it becomes more difficult for them to access housing.
And the reasons for homelessness range from being between jobs, to suffering the effects of a difficult post-divorce experience. Ill-health (physical and/or mental) and addiction may play a part. Sometimes lack of education plays a part, sometimes unfortunate choices.
Yes, there are (national stats) 3% of the population who choose to live outside of housing. But the vast majority want a roof, food, and a friend.
Homelessness is a temporary condition suffered by worthy individuals, many of whom need some help to get their lives back.
I was reading about some celebrities who have been homeless, and that the reasons with them varied greatly. More information can be found at http://www.angelfire.com/stars4/lists/homeless.html.
They went on to make this list:
Nobel Prize Winners: 1
Nobel Prize Nominees: 2 (includes above)
Oscar Winners: 6
Oscar Nominees: 10 (includes above)
Emmy Award Winners: 8
Emmy Award Nominees: 11 (includes above)
Grammy Award Winners: 9
Grammy Award Nominees: 13 (includes above)
Best-Selling Authors: 7
Presidential Medal of Freedom recipients (U.S.'s highest civilian honor): 1
Knighthoods: 1
Friday, January 15, 2010
Heroes and Advocates for the Homeless
Heroes and Advocates for the Homeless
The people who work at Lookout are my heroes. Just today…
Walking west on Alexander Street towards Gastown and casually conversing, Dave* pointed out some personal landmarks. “That’s where we were when we started a financial institution…” At my “oh, yeah” look he continued.
“In the mid 90s a group of us got together because our clients needed financial help and advice and needed access to loans.” A query from me, confirmed. “For microbusiness.” He went on to tell me how he and a few others did all the paperwork. How they received seed money from an Angel Investor and from a Government Grant, and even lobbied successfully for an amendment to legislation that would benefit micro loan recipients. “The whole thing was community driven. It was awesome!”
Through that venture they helped the street entrenched and the poor learn how to manage their money. They cashed cheques for them for a nominal fee, rather than the 10% of cheque value that some cheque cashing places charge. They set up savings plans. They gave loans of up to $250 for ventures. “And every cent was paid back. Even if a guy had to just give us $5 one month, he’d come back until it was all paid.”
Some of the projects they funded (which Dave says are almost too many to remember!), include the building materials for a cart that would be used to haul goods to the recyclers (a project now taken on by another organization). Another project was a selling kiosk for hotdogs.
“And the one guy,” he adds, “no one thought could do anything. He was just written off. But when he came to ask for his loan he had a business plan with schematics and blueprints, and knew how he was going to make sales, and everything.” Dave chuckled, as he always does at fond memories, “that guy surprised a lot of people. He was great.”
Where is the financial institution now? Unfortunately the backers abandoned the project. I hear that it has been revived, and enjoys some success. I’ll find out more and let you know.
Dave said he’d get more stories to me. But I know that today he’s setting up a Shelter. And making sure that no one’s sleeping on the streets nearby. And promoting Toque Tuesday for homelessness awareness (Feb 2). I’ll get more stories another day.
*Dave is a Manager at Lookout Emergency Aid Society
The people who work at Lookout are my heroes. Just today…
Walking west on Alexander Street towards Gastown and casually conversing, Dave* pointed out some personal landmarks. “That’s where we were when we started a financial institution…” At my “oh, yeah” look he continued.
“In the mid 90s a group of us got together because our clients needed financial help and advice and needed access to loans.” A query from me, confirmed. “For microbusiness.” He went on to tell me how he and a few others did all the paperwork. How they received seed money from an Angel Investor and from a Government Grant, and even lobbied successfully for an amendment to legislation that would benefit micro loan recipients. “The whole thing was community driven. It was awesome!”
Through that venture they helped the street entrenched and the poor learn how to manage their money. They cashed cheques for them for a nominal fee, rather than the 10% of cheque value that some cheque cashing places charge. They set up savings plans. They gave loans of up to $250 for ventures. “And every cent was paid back. Even if a guy had to just give us $5 one month, he’d come back until it was all paid.”
Some of the projects they funded (which Dave says are almost too many to remember!), include the building materials for a cart that would be used to haul goods to the recyclers (a project now taken on by another organization). Another project was a selling kiosk for hotdogs.
“And the one guy,” he adds, “no one thought could do anything. He was just written off. But when he came to ask for his loan he had a business plan with schematics and blueprints, and knew how he was going to make sales, and everything.” Dave chuckled, as he always does at fond memories, “that guy surprised a lot of people. He was great.”
Where is the financial institution now? Unfortunately the backers abandoned the project. I hear that it has been revived, and enjoys some success. I’ll find out more and let you know.
Dave said he’d get more stories to me. But I know that today he’s setting up a Shelter. And making sure that no one’s sleeping on the streets nearby. And promoting Toque Tuesday for homelessness awareness (Feb 2). I’ll get more stories another day.
*Dave is a Manager at Lookout Emergency Aid Society
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Building relationship, building hope
Building relationship, building hope
I went to a funeral this afternoon. It was a Celebration of Life for a young man – and an attempt to find some sense in the heartbreakingly senseless self-inflicted death of this husband and father.
I was attending in order to support my friend, a family member of his. I didn’t know Chris well at all – at least I didn’t know him at the beginning of the service.
His uncle remembered him to us with fondness as we watched a slideshow of photos of laughing children. His daughters, a bit nervous in front of a crowd, spoke sincerely of how much they loved him. And his wife – now widow – spoke of their courtship, of their love, and of the regret of not saying I love you enough, of not saying good bye that last time. Everyone wept.
In the coming days everyone will wonder what word or action they could have taken to prevent the tragedy. What part, no matter how small, that would have made a difference. Many will reach out to the family to provide friendship and support and words of comfort. They will bake treats and offer small gifts of service. We will all reflect on our relationships and hug our loved ones tightly.
As I drove home I contrasted his life with the lives of some of the people I’ve met that live in Vancouver’s Downtown Eastside, those who have experienced homelessness.
These people, too, are someone’s nephew or niece. Someone’s child. They posed, laughing, in childhood photos. They told bad jokes and played pranks. They still do.
Their lives are at risk of diminishing slowly in despair. But there is hope.
The hope comes when we all care enough to do the one small thing that each of us can do – visiting, or baking cookies, or whatever it is that you can offer – that will show friendship and not hostility, will demonstrate acceptance and not judgement, and will offer words of comfort, not condemnation.
It is within your ability to build real relationships, and to speak positively into the lives of others. The remedy for despair is hope. You have the power to offer it.
I went to a funeral this afternoon. It was a Celebration of Life for a young man – and an attempt to find some sense in the heartbreakingly senseless self-inflicted death of this husband and father.
I was attending in order to support my friend, a family member of his. I didn’t know Chris well at all – at least I didn’t know him at the beginning of the service.
His uncle remembered him to us with fondness as we watched a slideshow of photos of laughing children. His daughters, a bit nervous in front of a crowd, spoke sincerely of how much they loved him. And his wife – now widow – spoke of their courtship, of their love, and of the regret of not saying I love you enough, of not saying good bye that last time. Everyone wept.
In the coming days everyone will wonder what word or action they could have taken to prevent the tragedy. What part, no matter how small, that would have made a difference. Many will reach out to the family to provide friendship and support and words of comfort. They will bake treats and offer small gifts of service. We will all reflect on our relationships and hug our loved ones tightly.
As I drove home I contrasted his life with the lives of some of the people I’ve met that live in Vancouver’s Downtown Eastside, those who have experienced homelessness.
These people, too, are someone’s nephew or niece. Someone’s child. They posed, laughing, in childhood photos. They told bad jokes and played pranks. They still do.
Their lives are at risk of diminishing slowly in despair. But there is hope.
The hope comes when we all care enough to do the one small thing that each of us can do – visiting, or baking cookies, or whatever it is that you can offer – that will show friendship and not hostility, will demonstrate acceptance and not judgement, and will offer words of comfort, not condemnation.
It is within your ability to build real relationships, and to speak positively into the lives of others. The remedy for despair is hope. You have the power to offer it.
Monday, January 11, 2010
'Night 'Night, sleep tight, don't...
‘Night ‘Night, sleep tight, don’t…
One of the more unsavoury aspects of living life close to the streets is the constant battle with bedbugs. A battle not confined to those living in poverty, but one that is made more difficult in poverty.
These dreadful little creatures, while easy to kill, are difficult to get rid of. I won’t go into detailing the habits of bedbugs (just talking about them tends to make people scratch in sympathy), except to mention the effect of their existence on people.
Imagine waking up each morning with a row of intensely itchy bug bites on your arms. You can’t sleep properly at night imagining that you can feel the pests. This insomnia, however slight, makes you feel out-of-sorts. You try to not scratch too much, mindful of possible secondary infection.
When you’ve confirmed the cause of your discomfort, you gather up and bag every item of clothing and bedding and blankets that are in the room and set out to wash and dry every item. No vehicle? Well, you’ll walk to the nearest Laundromat with as much as you can carry. No money? You’ll wash as much as you can afford to wash, keeping the bags tightly sealed in the interim, your belongings then inaccessible.
You stand and survey your room, an inexpensive, OK, cheap, little weekly rental in a worn out building. The mattress… yes, they are probably there, too. If you are lucky enough to live in a building that has one of the few furniture saunas in Vancouver, the problem is taken care of easily and safely with the help of staff. If there isn’t a sauna, the process of contacting staff to engage exterminators begins. You likely lose your room in the interim. You contemplate not saying anything. It’s cold and wet outside, and rooms are hard to find. It might be better to share with the bedbugs…
This is a slice of a bedbug experience for some who live in poverty, and who do not have a supportive team of people who can help, who can be advocates.
I’ll ease your mind in this close… bedbugs and their eggs are easily killed by cold (72 hours in the deepfreeze) or by heat (6 hours in the dry sauna). Laundering, especially with a dry cycle of an hour is also effective. Used with other strategies (an enzyme spray for shoes or diatomaceous earth along baseboards) eradication is possible.
One of the more unsavoury aspects of living life close to the streets is the constant battle with bedbugs. A battle not confined to those living in poverty, but one that is made more difficult in poverty.
These dreadful little creatures, while easy to kill, are difficult to get rid of. I won’t go into detailing the habits of bedbugs (just talking about them tends to make people scratch in sympathy), except to mention the effect of their existence on people.
Imagine waking up each morning with a row of intensely itchy bug bites on your arms. You can’t sleep properly at night imagining that you can feel the pests. This insomnia, however slight, makes you feel out-of-sorts. You try to not scratch too much, mindful of possible secondary infection.
When you’ve confirmed the cause of your discomfort, you gather up and bag every item of clothing and bedding and blankets that are in the room and set out to wash and dry every item. No vehicle? Well, you’ll walk to the nearest Laundromat with as much as you can carry. No money? You’ll wash as much as you can afford to wash, keeping the bags tightly sealed in the interim, your belongings then inaccessible.
You stand and survey your room, an inexpensive, OK, cheap, little weekly rental in a worn out building. The mattress… yes, they are probably there, too. If you are lucky enough to live in a building that has one of the few furniture saunas in Vancouver, the problem is taken care of easily and safely with the help of staff. If there isn’t a sauna, the process of contacting staff to engage exterminators begins. You likely lose your room in the interim. You contemplate not saying anything. It’s cold and wet outside, and rooms are hard to find. It might be better to share with the bedbugs…
This is a slice of a bedbug experience for some who live in poverty, and who do not have a supportive team of people who can help, who can be advocates.
I’ll ease your mind in this close… bedbugs and their eggs are easily killed by cold (72 hours in the deepfreeze) or by heat (6 hours in the dry sauna). Laundering, especially with a dry cycle of an hour is also effective. Used with other strategies (an enzyme spray for shoes or diatomaceous earth along baseboards) eradication is possible.
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Homeless men, sleeping in the street. Homeless women, not as visible, striving for some small degree of safety.Who are these people? How did they come to this lifestyle? Is there an answer?
What should we do?
“The homeless” and their stories are as individual and varied as people are. Some have suffered loss of family, of career, or of health, that spiraled into hopelessness, depression, and homelessness. Sometimes as a result of poor choices, sometimes a result of events outside of their control. Addictions may play a part. Often unaddressed mental health concerns are a factor, and combinations of all of these things are common.
“Paul”, a journalist who had a stress breakdown and lived on the streets for seven years relates, “No one listened to me. No one heard me when I was on the street. There were things I could have done much sooner, but no one looked at me, no one told me.”
Now in housing, with supports in place, and with someone interested in his work, he thinks back on those years. “Someone needs to be there to talk to people. To talk to that 18 year old girl as she thinks about becoming a prostitute. To let her know that if she does, she’ll be dead in 6 months, but there are other choices she can make.” He spoke softly now, "the hardest thing in the world is to say to someone, 'please help me'. But I finally did." He looked around his bachelor apartment with obvious gratitude, located in a safe area of town.
Now in housing, with supports in place, and with someone interested in his work, he thinks back on those years. “Someone needs to be there to talk to people. To talk to that 18 year old girl as she thinks about becoming a prostitute. To let her know that if she does, she’ll be dead in 6 months, but there are other choices she can make.” He spoke softly now, "the hardest thing in the world is to say to someone, 'please help me'. But I finally did." He looked around his bachelor apartment with obvious gratitude, located in a safe area of town.
“It used to be that waking up was the worst time of day. I hated waking up. Because it meant another day of struggle, another day of fighting for life. Working for a few dollars, then having to lay your life down for just $40, because it’s all you have, and others know you’ve got it, and they want it. Now I wake up thanking God for the morning.
”What could we do to help?
Be compassionate, be polite to people living on the street.
Volunteer at organizations that work with homeless people, feeding, clothing, ministering, tending to medical needs. Use your talents, whether it's handing out food or clothing, or filling out forms, teaching people how to cook, or how to use a computer. Wash dishes or dust furniture in a Shelter. Listen without judgment.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
Posts
