Last week, I received a call that once again altered my perceptions on homelessness. Like all leaders in the fight against homelessness, I constantly tell civic clubs and government leaders and anyone else I come in contact with that anyone can become homeless.
But in my heart of hearts, I have never thought that people "like me" were in danger. Tuesday changed all that. A friend reminded me of someone we had known years ago, a woman who had been my co-leader in a Girl Scout troop, who had a high-powered job, membership in several civic organizations, a lovely house down the street maintained in perfect order. She was very conscious of her appearance, and she and her children were always beautifully decked out. To say I was shocked when my friend told me that "Mary" has been homeless almost since the last time I saw her 11 years ago would be putting it mildly indeed.
A few days later I saw Mary for myself. She is covered in open sores, dressed in rags, and had pulled out most of her hair. Colleagues told me she was first found cowering in fear in a tree, following an attack by a group of men who found it amusing to terrorize the homeless woman. My colleagues were unable to get her down, so one of them went up with some breakfast, and spent two hours talking to her. Mary has no idea how she came to be homeless, but she remembers she has children. She hasn't seen her children in 10 years, when the youngest was 14.
Although Mary is no longer coherent enough to tell her story, it isn't hard to guess that it is rooted in mental illness, probably exacerbated by substance abuse, used as a form of self-medication. The tie between mental illness and homelessness is a strong one, and is particularly sad because it can almost always be prevented. The fact that isn't prevented is a sad tribute to the strong stigma still attached to mental disease, and the treatment thereof. And despite the consequences of blaming the victim for the disease, including the ability of government and insurance companies to demand 50% co-pays for therapy as opposed to a 20% co-pay for physical disease, we do it anyway.
Of course, homelessness itself carries an extraordinary stigma, and the shame people feel when they find themselves nearly homeless prevents them from receiving timely and effective help. Even people in "nice" neighborhoods can find themselves falling behind on medical bills, and house payments. They attempt to hide their situation, and juggle debt, to the point that homelessness is no longer out of the question.
Christ said, "Judge not, that ye be not judged." Judging others, when we can never know the whole story, is not just a character flaw within us, but can have virtually criminal effects on those who are judged unfairly.
This May we will be launching a campaign, "Homeless: It's Not Just Who You Think." Help us carry the message that indeed, people like us can and do become homeless. We are all vulnerable and in need of help. Perhaps it is time to learn to love one another, before it is too late for another homeless mother, child, or brother.
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Rush to Judgment
Of all the things that may be learned from interactive media: letters to the editor, blog sites, talk radio; one that is most striking is the fact that there are huge numbers of people ready and willing to tell everyone else how to live their lives.
Can't sell your house? "There is no reason a house won't sell if owners stop being so greedy." Someone doesn't make a left turn into oncoming traffic quickly enough, or goes too slow? "They should learn how to drive or get off the road." Gas prices are so high that people working for minimum wage can't get to work? "It's the law of supply and demand. Oil companies have to make a profit, so suck it up and get a job close to home."
Basically, the take-home message is that bad things can only happen to people who lead flawed lives.
This simplistic (and mean-spirited) point of view is nowhere as prevelant as it is regarding the homeless, who hear a constant refrain, generally spoken in a tone of disgust: "Get a job! Get off the street! Clean up! Get a shave! Wash your clothes! Lay off the booze! Go away!"
Unfortunately, the very people who are most vehement in their instructions do not find it necessary to explain how the homeless are to carry them out. While most of the homeless work, they do need better-paying, more stable jobs, but just how exactly are they supposed to make this happen? They are very often dirty, but where are they supposed to take a shower, or wash their clothes, or shave? Yes, they should stop drinking, but who will give them the tools to blunt the pain of a marginalized life?
And, of course, homeless persons are not clones of each other. There are men, women and children of varying levels of health, training and education. There are a hundred paths to homelessness, and they can be easy to find. With the looming recession, they will be easier yet.
The constant struggle for those of us working with the homeless is how to balance compassion and pragmatism; faith and skepticism. If we are to help, we need to be clear-sighted as to the capabilities and motivation of those who come to us in pain. But we also need to retain our hope, lest we find ourselves of no use whatsoever.
It is one of the joys of my life that I have found so many mentors in my search to find the right approach in making lives better whenever and wherever I can. The people who surround me have vision and faith that illumines the way for not just the homeless, but our sheltered neighbors.
The light the first few of these women and men lit six years ago with the first cold night program flares more brightly each day. It has found its way to Crestview and Destin, and in homes and churches scattered throughout Walton County.
Individually, our volunteers are strong, capable, and caring. Collectively, they produce miracles. This year, the number of our chronic homeless fell by over 600: from 1100 in 2007 to 582 in 2008. At least 200 have found shelter, homes and purpose through the work of our faith-based and community-based organizations. We work without much in the way of financial resources, without a shelter, and without the support of many of our fellow citizens.
But, we work with love. And that's how we make the difference.
Can't sell your house? "There is no reason a house won't sell if owners stop being so greedy." Someone doesn't make a left turn into oncoming traffic quickly enough, or goes too slow? "They should learn how to drive or get off the road." Gas prices are so high that people working for minimum wage can't get to work? "It's the law of supply and demand. Oil companies have to make a profit, so suck it up and get a job close to home."
Basically, the take-home message is that bad things can only happen to people who lead flawed lives.
This simplistic (and mean-spirited) point of view is nowhere as prevelant as it is regarding the homeless, who hear a constant refrain, generally spoken in a tone of disgust: "Get a job! Get off the street! Clean up! Get a shave! Wash your clothes! Lay off the booze! Go away!"
Unfortunately, the very people who are most vehement in their instructions do not find it necessary to explain how the homeless are to carry them out. While most of the homeless work, they do need better-paying, more stable jobs, but just how exactly are they supposed to make this happen? They are very often dirty, but where are they supposed to take a shower, or wash their clothes, or shave? Yes, they should stop drinking, but who will give them the tools to blunt the pain of a marginalized life?
And, of course, homeless persons are not clones of each other. There are men, women and children of varying levels of health, training and education. There are a hundred paths to homelessness, and they can be easy to find. With the looming recession, they will be easier yet.
The constant struggle for those of us working with the homeless is how to balance compassion and pragmatism; faith and skepticism. If we are to help, we need to be clear-sighted as to the capabilities and motivation of those who come to us in pain. But we also need to retain our hope, lest we find ourselves of no use whatsoever.
It is one of the joys of my life that I have found so many mentors in my search to find the right approach in making lives better whenever and wherever I can. The people who surround me have vision and faith that illumines the way for not just the homeless, but our sheltered neighbors.
The light the first few of these women and men lit six years ago with the first cold night program flares more brightly each day. It has found its way to Crestview and Destin, and in homes and churches scattered throughout Walton County.
Individually, our volunteers are strong, capable, and caring. Collectively, they produce miracles. This year, the number of our chronic homeless fell by over 600: from 1100 in 2007 to 582 in 2008. At least 200 have found shelter, homes and purpose through the work of our faith-based and community-based organizations. We work without much in the way of financial resources, without a shelter, and without the support of many of our fellow citizens.
But, we work with love. And that's how we make the difference.
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