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!
Sunday, February 28, 2010
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.
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