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.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
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.
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