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.
Showing posts with label hope. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hope. Show all posts
Monday, March 22, 2010
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.
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.
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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
