I Trust You But I Trust Me More”
I was invited to serve on a task force comprised of local, state and national stakeholders. The task force was convened to address the issue of homelessness. The mandate was clear: come up with an action plan that would move this issue forward.
The work was intense and challenging. I worked on behalf of a homeless woman who had a violent assault in the shelter she was living in as a result of being in need of homeless services. She had a criminal record and a violent background. On numerous occasions, she told me that she could not see any other way to provide for her daughter other than this very shelter.
I found myself becoming involved in a very difficult and troubling situation. People were working hard to improve the system, but there were a lot of pieces not working well at all. The result was a lot of chaos, a lot of anger and a lot of anger coming from the public and from elected officials.
One day, I got in my car to go home and I had a text from a colleague.
“I’m in a bad place right now. My son needs help and I don’t know what to do. I have my wife with me because I don’t want him in the street or in some kind of institution.”
I texted back, “I’m sorry this is happening and I’ll try and help in any way I can.”
He responded immediately, “I don’t trust you but I trust me more. I need someone to help.”
As a parent, I knew how I’d want someone to respond to that kind of request. I told him, “I’m a person, and I’m here to help.”
“I know that. I just need you to be there for me.”
There was more I could do that evening than spend with my family. But it was clear to me at that moment that helping someone in this scenario is best done by going through their family.
There are plenty of people and plenty of non-profits providing service to people. People are capable of making changes in their lives and making decisions. The problem with homelessness is that this population is not being supported through a process that gets them to a point of stability, security and empowerment.
The woman, who was in her late 40s, was getting on with her life. She had come into the shelter when she had been in the Navy. She was smart, caring and very capable. She had come through the most horrific experiences and yet, she told me she had never made use of services.
She got into the shelter in the summer. It was cold, hard, icy, wet and wet. It was not an environment designed for someone in her position. She did not belong there, but there was a shortage of options and opportunities for her.
While she did get to some services, the biggest problem with her situation was the transition from homelessness to housing. It can be difficult and, in a lot of circumstances, it’s very painful.
She was a woman who did not belong in a shelter, and she had found herself and her family in this very difficult and challenging circumstance.
I went through that night going through these things with her.
It was my role to develop some recommendations. I realized that our work would be very difficult without the support of state and local policymakers. One of the leaders in the state took on this issue as well. He worked closely with the community, business community and individuals to help this woman make progress toward stability.
This entire experience reaffirmed my belief that this work was about building relationships. This isn’t a process of passing blame, but of building relationships. We want people to have opportunities to succeed, and the best way to do that is to make sure that there are pathways and structures in place to help people move up the ladder of opportunity.
When I asked my colleagues at the Housing Partnership, Inc. for their observations about the current homelessness situation, they made three comments that are significant.
1. The issue needs to be addressed from multiple perspectives. Each one of us brings our own understanding and experience to the table. There’s more than one solution.
2. We need a new way to do business. We need to recognize how we are each doing something differently to support this population. When we work together, we can address the issue in a way that moves forward, building on and strengthening what we’re doing right now, instead of getting stuck.
3. When we work in the community, we move the conversation from the shelter or housing location, where people are being served and to the community, where people live and provide services. That has been an intentional move, but it takes time for it to be understood by many community members. It’s not an easy shift, but we know that every moment counts. We need people to understand that living outside is much more prevalent than many believe it to be.
It was also interesting that, during the process, I was able to look back and see what we are doing today to serve people who are homeless is very much like what we did nearly 40 years ago with the homeless population.
The population we served was not homeless because of a specific problem they faced with a shelter that didn’t provide appropriate supports. They didn’t need to be placed in a specific shelter. They needed a community with multiple options and opportunities. They needed someone to be there for them every step of the way.
A number of things can happen to each one of us as we walk through our day, or go through our years. We cannot underestimate the impact that happens when we have an intervention that enables a person to access the supports and the resources that they need in their life.
A recent incident reminds me of the importance of this work and what we’re trying to achieve. Recently, a man walked into a shelter for a shower and warm clothes. He had been walking around with his daughter for a few days. He told us that he did not want to go back to where he was staying, which was a fire lane, because he didn’t want to put his daughter through that kind of stress.
She had been doing all she could to care for him. She was out there in the cold, the sleet and the rain with him.
I asked the shelter manager, “Why are you sending him away?”
He told me that it was in his “best interests” for him to leave.
I responded that his daughter did not know that. She needed someone there. The facility, by definition, does not provide the type of support he needs. There are no resources there to meet his needs.
He needed a place to go, a place that had access to resources, so that he could get the support he needed. For a single mother to have to walk through this situation knowing that she is going to have to do it over again is unconscionable. There needs to be more than just some of us thinking that homeless people are not our responsibility.
We are responsible for each other. This is an opportunity to work in partnership with our communities, non-profits, business and government to develop a better way to provide the support needed for individuals to make a positive transition into the community.
It’s up to each of us to know what it takes to be successful in life and how to attain stability. It’s up to us to make sure that there’s a path for each of us to get there. It’s up to us to make sure we each get that opportunity. We need everyone to feel valued and to be acknowledged.
We’re all valuable. We’re all worth fighting for.
This time, I was able to use my voice to say something. I was able to act on it, and I will continue to take every opportunity I can to speak up on behalf of our community and homeless families.
I am doing my best to help build relationships. I’m not only a mom, but a grandparent. I’m not only a pastor, but I am a human being.
There is so much more that I need to do as a mother, as a grandmother, as a daughter, as a wife, as a daughter-in-law and as a mother-in-law. As a pastor, I am a voice for the voiceless.
“What is a mom with young children supposed to do when she has to ask for help? I don’t have anyone to turn to. What if I had to move or have no place to live? What if I couldn’t go to work and lose my job because I need to take care of my children? What would happen to my children and my ability to support them? I’m desperate. This has become a constant reality for me. I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I can’t afford diapers or formula. I don’t know where I’m going to be tomorrow, and I’m scared about who is going to take care of my children. It’s been this way for a while. What am I supposed to do?
A few years ago, I was in a place where I didn’t think I would be able to hold my head up, but I was doing it for my son. I had to take care of him. My mom always told me that when times got tough, she would have some extra money to give us,
