So a beautiful thing happened on Tuesday. A woman I have gotten to know and love over the years, L. has been on the street for a while. Her and her boyfriend always stay outside, she's loved by many at Sanctuary and knows she can come in and stash her stuff wherever, have a shower, grab a nap on the couches, etc... she just feels really at home. She's a major tomboy, well theres not really a choice when you're on the street, and she doesn't want to be mistaken for 'that' kind of girl. Apparently her and her boyfriend know the property manager for the 2nd cup plaza down the street from Sanctuary. I saw her and some guy unloading trays of flowers from his van on Tuesday... I went back in a few minutes to see what was going on. He's decided to give her a chance - he's put her on payroll for the summer and it's her job to plant and maintain the flowers in the big garden pots in the front and in the back of the plaza. It was really really beautiful to see her being creative, gentle, and feeling then purposeful and accomplished. I visited her throughout the afternoon as she made her way through the different pots she was arranging. She would ferociously dig out all the weeds, then very carefully and gently arrange and plant the new young flowers. She commented that people often call her a crackhead... and look what she was doing now. It's so true... even 'crackheads' are capable of creating restoration and beauty... the whole experience really opened her up as she shared about her family and her life in ways I'd never heard her talk about. I thank God the property manager had the heart to give her a chance like that - what a wonderful opportunity for her. And oh is she proud of all her work... Greg was doing announcements on Wednesday before lunch at the drop-in and was like "oh yeah and L. got a job planting flowers outside the 2nd cup and everyone needs to go admire them". She blushed and just kind of stared at him... as if to wonder how he could think her work was really worth admiring. It was really beautiful... she was out watering them and planting more today when I went by. It's perfect. If you go by the 2nd cup on Yonge and Charles remember to admire them.
Yesterday at drop-in I had one of those I-am-so-incapable moments. I was sitting playing crazy eights with a a wonderful old couple when a man who doesn't speak much english but welcomes me warmly with a "hey nice to see you how are you" every week passed me a business card. I've tried talking to this man before but it just kind of turned into me guessing when i should nod or sign or mmhm because he is realy so difficult to understand. The card had on it something like "Canadian Support for Torture Victims".. I just sort of looked at him inquisitively and he stared at me and his eyes started to water... and he made a sign like someone slicing his throat and said his wife and sister were murdered. He said that in his country they were all tortured for a long time and then he was let go. And then he went silent and cried. No amount of training can really benefit you in those moments, because there is absolutely nothing I could have said that would make his pain any more bearable. So I just put my hand on his back. That was it. I couldn't even say that I was sorry... that seemed so insufficient. I just sat there with my hand on his shoulder while her cried... this man has got to be in his late 40's. When these moments happen I wonder why, or rather, HOW it is that I seem to be the one that people can confide in. And I don;'t mean to say that to boast, I mention it becuase it breaks my heart... that there isn't someone else who they can tell but the 20 year old girl who works at the drop-in center. This man has been through more pain and loss than I can even fathom... he's a hero for enduring it and continuing to smile. Yet he's gotten lost somewhere... I don't know. Eventually the couple was yelling at me that it was my turn at crazy eights and they were sick of waiting... so the man told me to go play. And that was that.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Monday, May 26, 2008
Todayy
I've realized that if I don't update this obnoxiously often I will miss telling heaps of stories of what is going on on the streets. I'll try to retell the most touching stories of the last weeks as I go.
Today I helped move a guy from one room in his building to another. He's an inuit man who grew up wayyyy up north. When he gets really drunk he cracks out the native throat-singing he learned from his grandparents as a kid... its hauntingly beautiful, though always a little strange because of his timing when he is drunk. Months ago he spent the better part of a Thursday night drop-in sitting at a table whooting humming and howling songs he'd learned way back when in his native tongue. Last thursday he had been drinking and i went over to say hey and he started crying and crying and let me glimpse into some of the pain hes suffered in his life... including two ex-wives, one who was murdered and one who died of breast cancer a little over a year ago. Its moments like that that are so difficult, because as much as it has become a sort of cliche catch phrase among street outreach workers, all that you can really offer in that moment is your prescence.. to "just be" with someone. So I looked into his eyes longingly, knowing that anything I tried to do or say to offer comfort would be completely insufficient, and to think otherwise would be to not affirm his overwhelming pain. So i just looked into his wet eyes and couldnt help but shed a few tears myself... my mind trying to figure out how it was that I am the person he can confide in...and then he began to hum deep in his throat and started slowly to murmur and asked me to sing along with him... i was unbelievably embarassed because i knew people could see and were listening... but I as well as i could tried to copy his whoots and deep murmurs.... it was all that I had to offer in that moment and for some reason it was exactly what I knew he wanted from me... just someone to mourn with him... to sing a dirge of sorts... this man can make incredibly artwork. He's been working at the shop recently making figures out of soap stone... he's a rare talent.. the stuff he is producing is magnificent.
Anyways, he often has G. at his place, and apparently the building has gotten alot of complains about them so they made him move out of his room down two floors to the basement. So today we went and moved him, it was fun... though I'm constantly reminded of how housing is not the answer to the "problem of homelessness". Homes are the answer... and the shitholes that people who can't make it the way society says they should are put in... they arent close to homes. I can't imagine what living in one of those buildings would do to my psyche or self-esteem... I wonder how much my creativity and drive would be stifled, and if I would grow to believe that I was the type of person who deserved to be living in filth. I looked out the window in his new room, and the window hits street level of an alleyway... and it was littered with garbage, needles, glass, a used tampon applicator, condoms, etc. Imagine looking out your window everyday to that... what that would do to your view of your own worth.
After moving S. Doug and I did outreach for a few hours... did groceries for a man in a wheelchair who can't make it to the store. We tried to help a frantic lost, disheveled looking woman find her husband...though we never did... she just sort of lost hope and wandered away after a while. We ran into a few old friends along the streets, but the majority of todays and tonights outreach was uneventful. When we got back to the church there were some people chilling int he park who told us that G, the man from friday night, and numerous other things I've posted about on here, was arrested for threatening someone with an exacto knife. We knew it might happen soon, since his drunken rages ave become more and more aggressive. However, at the end of the night as I was walking towards the subway I saw him panning outside the McDonalds... he was pretty pissed off but we had a good conversations.. he told me I was his little sister, and that sometimes he just wanted to be held when he was hurting... among other things. Don't we all...
Today I helped move a guy from one room in his building to another. He's an inuit man who grew up wayyyy up north. When he gets really drunk he cracks out the native throat-singing he learned from his grandparents as a kid... its hauntingly beautiful, though always a little strange because of his timing when he is drunk. Months ago he spent the better part of a Thursday night drop-in sitting at a table whooting humming and howling songs he'd learned way back when in his native tongue. Last thursday he had been drinking and i went over to say hey and he started crying and crying and let me glimpse into some of the pain hes suffered in his life... including two ex-wives, one who was murdered and one who died of breast cancer a little over a year ago. Its moments like that that are so difficult, because as much as it has become a sort of cliche catch phrase among street outreach workers, all that you can really offer in that moment is your prescence.. to "just be" with someone. So I looked into his eyes longingly, knowing that anything I tried to do or say to offer comfort would be completely insufficient, and to think otherwise would be to not affirm his overwhelming pain. So i just looked into his wet eyes and couldnt help but shed a few tears myself... my mind trying to figure out how it was that I am the person he can confide in...and then he began to hum deep in his throat and started slowly to murmur and asked me to sing along with him... i was unbelievably embarassed because i knew people could see and were listening... but I as well as i could tried to copy his whoots and deep murmurs.... it was all that I had to offer in that moment and for some reason it was exactly what I knew he wanted from me... just someone to mourn with him... to sing a dirge of sorts... this man can make incredibly artwork. He's been working at the shop recently making figures out of soap stone... he's a rare talent.. the stuff he is producing is magnificent.
Anyways, he often has G. at his place, and apparently the building has gotten alot of complains about them so they made him move out of his room down two floors to the basement. So today we went and moved him, it was fun... though I'm constantly reminded of how housing is not the answer to the "problem of homelessness". Homes are the answer... and the shitholes that people who can't make it the way society says they should are put in... they arent close to homes. I can't imagine what living in one of those buildings would do to my psyche or self-esteem... I wonder how much my creativity and drive would be stifled, and if I would grow to believe that I was the type of person who deserved to be living in filth. I looked out the window in his new room, and the window hits street level of an alleyway... and it was littered with garbage, needles, glass, a used tampon applicator, condoms, etc. Imagine looking out your window everyday to that... what that would do to your view of your own worth.
After moving S. Doug and I did outreach for a few hours... did groceries for a man in a wheelchair who can't make it to the store. We tried to help a frantic lost, disheveled looking woman find her husband...though we never did... she just sort of lost hope and wandered away after a while. We ran into a few old friends along the streets, but the majority of todays and tonights outreach was uneventful. When we got back to the church there were some people chilling int he park who told us that G, the man from friday night, and numerous other things I've posted about on here, was arrested for threatening someone with an exacto knife. We knew it might happen soon, since his drunken rages ave become more and more aggressive. However, at the end of the night as I was walking towards the subway I saw him panning outside the McDonalds... he was pretty pissed off but we had a good conversations.. he told me I was his little sister, and that sometimes he just wanted to be held when he was hurting... among other things. Don't we all...
Friday, May 23, 2008
Ignorance
I have a sticky note on my computer... listing off a number of people and stories from last week that I feel the need to write about. I also have thoughts from things that have gone on this past week that I want to write about. I get home at the end of the day emotionally exhausted though, and re-living some of the situations isn't much appealing. So there are a lot of things I need to write about from over the past week and a bit, but something happened today that I need to vent about first, because it absolutely infuriated me.
I've written a bit about a man who is on the edge.. on the verge of either disaster or incredible growth... but is trapped in a cycle of addiction, self-pity, co-dependency, etc. etc. etc. etc. etc. I have on my little sticky note from last week that I wanted to write about a certain situation with him... honestly, so much goes on that I can't remember the exact conversation or context I was referring to. Oh wait! perhaps I do. Last Thursday... oh theres way to much to explain. Tomorrow I have the day off and will write about a bunch of things that have happened. This guy is dearly dearly beloved by all of the staff at Sanctuary, and I've been witnessing their ups and downs reflecting his, as he again and again gets drunk and angry and does and says extremily hurtful things, then wallows in pity, frustrated and angry at himself for hurting people he loves. He was horrifically abused as a child, and believes he is shit. He believes he's worth nothing at all... that he doesn't deserve love, and frankly, he finds being loved by people at Sanctuary uncomfortable and doesn't really know how to handle the way he feels. He is precious. I went outside tonight cause a woman, L, has said she wanted to talk to me and as I went to find her in the park, this man asked if I'd come talk to him after. When I went over I sat down he began just by saying he had missed me and whatnot. A cop car pulled up and asked if he'd been causing trouble, apparently someone had called the cops. Whether or not he had, he was subdued at this point, so they left after a while.
What happened next just made me want to punch someone out, which is a rare thing for an adamant pacifist.
A woman came out of the church, someone I hadn't seen before aside from a brief hello earlier in the evening. She came over to the bench we were sitting at and asked if I worked at the church. I responded with my usual 'I hang out there' and she went into a passionate monologue about how I need to teach "people like him" respect, and keep him "under control". I was kind of taken aback at first, and kept very calm throughout our entire interaction. I guess she had seen him earlier yelling at someone on the other end of the pay phone in the park, and just generally being aggressive. G. wasn't totally smashed, but he certainly wasn't sober. I don't deny that he was probably being quite disruptive, but this woman was being incredibly rude. She did not address G. until about 20mins into the conversation when I was bawling and incapable of responding. She was asking me things like 'how can you sit with this thing?' and so on. Sitting beside a lot of other people, it would have stung and I would have been angry, but because it was this person in particular, I lost it. The fact is, we are working so so so so so so hard trying to help G. understand that he is precious. For this woman to come along and dehumanize him and call him evil, and imply that eh was unworthy of being loved just shattered me. All that he ever has been told is that he is a piece of shit, and he can be told a million times that he is a child of God, infinately valuable to him, and he will still have trouble believing it. She has no idea that he has recently talked of being beyond suicidal. She has no idea the abuse he has suffered in his life. All that she could focus on was that he was "disrespectful" and needed to be scolded, reprimanded, and trained to behave. "If you can train a dog - If you can train a monkey - to BEHAVE, then certainly you can train this THING."... you can imagine how utterly frustrated I was with this woman - I was constantly interjecting reminding her that she was speaking about my friend - a child of God - as a thing - as sub-human. She went on about how she was studying law... something about all of the great schools she'd been to and how much she knew. I tried very hard to affirm her understanding of his behavior as wrong, while trying to explain that his behavior was not grounds to reject him... that Jesus loved him enough to die for him, and that that was why I loved him enough to sit with him even in light of his sin. She continued on - and on - and on - on a number of occasions I asked her to leave, because nothing was being resolved and she was not wanting to hear anything I had to say, she just wanted to make G know that he was evil. At certain points G. was getting really mad at her - more so for making me so upset, not as much as what she was saying about him. At one point I even pulled her aside away from G. who was just spewing out insults at her, and told her that I knew as well as she did that some of the things G. does are wrong, and that he knows that as well, but that the way she was going about trying to "correct" him wasn't working and that maybe she should try respecting him if she was going to demand it from him. She wouldn't have any of it. She went on about how if we were in a spiritual war she would win because she's been a Christian for 20 years and was a pastor... and I sighed heavily and exhaustedly responded "were on the same side!" She went on about how much shes studied theology and I told her that it was great... honestly... i tried SO hard to affirm her. But i told her that I just could not agree with her that my beautiful precious and incredibly broken friend needed to be treated like an animal, judged, and rejected by her because of his behavior. Other folks from the street were around, listening in and out throughout portions of our conversation that I think lasted close to an hour... also parts of it got kind of loud. She scolded me for crying... saying some very mean things about what do I ever expect to do for God if all I can do is cry. After more similar arguments I responded that G. is exactly the kind of guy Jesus hung out with, and she yelled that he was evil... and that I was evil for sitting there and supporting him... and I asked back if forgiveness was a sin...
I was so mad... fuming after this all happened... and G. just pulled me in and gave me a big hug... I was obviously much more hurt by the situation then he was. Some other folks from the street came by and were like... aw people say stuff like that to us all the time. I know that that is true... but just... why this certain person, at this certain time, and from a Christian of all people. When he is just so close to perhaps allowing himself to be cracked open enough to experience a fraction of God's grace and love. I was so so so angry and sad....
A bunch more things happened today that I want to write about... but I am in need of sleep and will save them for my big catch up writing sesh tomorrow.
Pray for G, and pray for the woman.
I've written a bit about a man who is on the edge.. on the verge of either disaster or incredible growth... but is trapped in a cycle of addiction, self-pity, co-dependency, etc. etc. etc. etc. etc. I have on my little sticky note from last week that I wanted to write about a certain situation with him... honestly, so much goes on that I can't remember the exact conversation or context I was referring to. Oh wait! perhaps I do. Last Thursday... oh theres way to much to explain. Tomorrow I have the day off and will write about a bunch of things that have happened. This guy is dearly dearly beloved by all of the staff at Sanctuary, and I've been witnessing their ups and downs reflecting his, as he again and again gets drunk and angry and does and says extremily hurtful things, then wallows in pity, frustrated and angry at himself for hurting people he loves. He was horrifically abused as a child, and believes he is shit. He believes he's worth nothing at all... that he doesn't deserve love, and frankly, he finds being loved by people at Sanctuary uncomfortable and doesn't really know how to handle the way he feels. He is precious. I went outside tonight cause a woman, L, has said she wanted to talk to me and as I went to find her in the park, this man asked if I'd come talk to him after. When I went over I sat down he began just by saying he had missed me and whatnot. A cop car pulled up and asked if he'd been causing trouble, apparently someone had called the cops. Whether or not he had, he was subdued at this point, so they left after a while.
What happened next just made me want to punch someone out, which is a rare thing for an adamant pacifist.
A woman came out of the church, someone I hadn't seen before aside from a brief hello earlier in the evening. She came over to the bench we were sitting at and asked if I worked at the church. I responded with my usual 'I hang out there' and she went into a passionate monologue about how I need to teach "people like him" respect, and keep him "under control". I was kind of taken aback at first, and kept very calm throughout our entire interaction. I guess she had seen him earlier yelling at someone on the other end of the pay phone in the park, and just generally being aggressive. G. wasn't totally smashed, but he certainly wasn't sober. I don't deny that he was probably being quite disruptive, but this woman was being incredibly rude. She did not address G. until about 20mins into the conversation when I was bawling and incapable of responding. She was asking me things like 'how can you sit with this thing?' and so on. Sitting beside a lot of other people, it would have stung and I would have been angry, but because it was this person in particular, I lost it. The fact is, we are working so so so so so so hard trying to help G. understand that he is precious. For this woman to come along and dehumanize him and call him evil, and imply that eh was unworthy of being loved just shattered me. All that he ever has been told is that he is a piece of shit, and he can be told a million times that he is a child of God, infinately valuable to him, and he will still have trouble believing it. She has no idea that he has recently talked of being beyond suicidal. She has no idea the abuse he has suffered in his life. All that she could focus on was that he was "disrespectful" and needed to be scolded, reprimanded, and trained to behave. "If you can train a dog - If you can train a monkey - to BEHAVE, then certainly you can train this THING."... you can imagine how utterly frustrated I was with this woman - I was constantly interjecting reminding her that she was speaking about my friend - a child of God - as a thing - as sub-human. She went on about how she was studying law... something about all of the great schools she'd been to and how much she knew. I tried very hard to affirm her understanding of his behavior as wrong, while trying to explain that his behavior was not grounds to reject him... that Jesus loved him enough to die for him, and that that was why I loved him enough to sit with him even in light of his sin. She continued on - and on - and on - on a number of occasions I asked her to leave, because nothing was being resolved and she was not wanting to hear anything I had to say, she just wanted to make G know that he was evil. At certain points G. was getting really mad at her - more so for making me so upset, not as much as what she was saying about him. At one point I even pulled her aside away from G. who was just spewing out insults at her, and told her that I knew as well as she did that some of the things G. does are wrong, and that he knows that as well, but that the way she was going about trying to "correct" him wasn't working and that maybe she should try respecting him if she was going to demand it from him. She wouldn't have any of it. She went on about how if we were in a spiritual war she would win because she's been a Christian for 20 years and was a pastor... and I sighed heavily and exhaustedly responded "were on the same side!" She went on about how much shes studied theology and I told her that it was great... honestly... i tried SO hard to affirm her. But i told her that I just could not agree with her that my beautiful precious and incredibly broken friend needed to be treated like an animal, judged, and rejected by her because of his behavior. Other folks from the street were around, listening in and out throughout portions of our conversation that I think lasted close to an hour... also parts of it got kind of loud. She scolded me for crying... saying some very mean things about what do I ever expect to do for God if all I can do is cry. After more similar arguments I responded that G. is exactly the kind of guy Jesus hung out with, and she yelled that he was evil... and that I was evil for sitting there and supporting him... and I asked back if forgiveness was a sin...
I was so mad... fuming after this all happened... and G. just pulled me in and gave me a big hug... I was obviously much more hurt by the situation then he was. Some other folks from the street came by and were like... aw people say stuff like that to us all the time. I know that that is true... but just... why this certain person, at this certain time, and from a Christian of all people. When he is just so close to perhaps allowing himself to be cracked open enough to experience a fraction of God's grace and love. I was so so so angry and sad....
A bunch more things happened today that I want to write about... but I am in need of sleep and will save them for my big catch up writing sesh tomorrow.
Pray for G, and pray for the woman.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
People's pain
Tonight was tough. I found myself stop on my walk home and just realize that there are a whole lot of situations that I just cannot or will not let myself think about. The stories of some of the people in our community are unbelievably... horrific. Stories of unthinkable childhood abuse... stories of addictions, abandonment, violence... survival. I hear the facts when people tell me things about their lives... or when I see things going on... but rarely do I ever allow myself to hurt for them anymore. It is just way too painful. And I need to catch myself. I know that if I let every story of everyones abuse really sink in that I would be incapable of functioning, (and I wonder how God manages) but I also don't want to just be so hard that I can hear about D. being raped "again last night", and not hurt deeply for her. I know that I want to get really really really angry about it, but I know that won't help either. It won't help me or her. I don't even feel capable of praying for her... or anyone else who shared really difficult crap tonight, because then it becomes very real, and then I have to try to reconcile the things that are happening in the lives of my friends with my understanding of and relationship with a loving God.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Outreach Experiences
Well...
A few interesting things happened during outreach tonight. Saw G... drunk... he mooned Doug and I and then kicked a huge dent in a car that was turning at the intersection we were at... I forget what it was that he was trying to prove. We walked away from him because he was dishing out his usual insults that Sanctuary wants to control everyone on the street and that we see him as an f-ing project.. etc. etc. We went around the block cause we knew our friend C. was down the street. G. met us int he alley and continues to yell at Doug while I met with C. and a bunch of other street folks who congregated while I was there. I handed out socks and water and we chatted about what was goin on - Doug and G. eventually joined us and we went on our way. I found out later from a couple I ran into as I was heading to the subway that G. and a friend who had come up as I was chilling with C. got into a big fight. I think he was just looking for someone to punch... and for someone to punish him the way he believes he deserves to be.
We ran into a lot of people we know tonight... but nothing way out of the ordinary went down... just short conversations and updates on life over socks and water. We did get a free show from a kid who couldn't be more than 17-18 who walked on his hands on the road and sidewalk for us... then told us about the horrors of the last shelter he was at.. and how much he hates CAS because they wont help him out financially unless he gets a fixed address... right now he's living on the streets.
Last week we met a man on outreach who absolutely broke my heart. He was panning just north of Bloor on Yonge street and we asked him if he could go for a pair of socks or some water. He started telling us about how he used to own a house in Montreal but then his wife and two kids were killed in a car crash 6 months ago and he cant find a reason to live. He burst out into tears on the side of the busy street and I didn't know what else to do than just hug him and listen. He spoke of heartbreak and suicide attempts. His daughter was a lawyer, and engaged. He'd just come to Toronto from Montreal and had no where to go. Heartbreaking. I tried to encourage him that there really were reasons to keep living, though I was racking my brains trying to think of one that wold suffice. What can you tell a man who is pouring out his soul to a complete stranger? All I felt I could do was hold his arm and give him a hug. And then after a few moments we had to walk away. We told him about our services, offered our prayers.. but none of it really seemed like it could do anything for this man who was just.... in such anguish.
I saw A. a lot last week, an older native man confined to a wheelchair who, thanks to the dedication and friendship of folks at Sanctuary now has housing and a trustee to help him manage his ODSP check. We did groceries for him last week among other things. His sister just got out of jail and is back turning tricks and deals in his room... which is hard to see cause it makes his life less manageable and more chaotic for him... but she did clean the place up, and offers company... its a bittersweet situation.
I saw the woman who threatened me at the end of outreach today... I just saw her form across the street. She was panning in front of the strip club near the church. I really want to talk to her, but she was very obviously drunk, so Doug went to say hey and I headed back to the church... her boyfriend was on the bench in the park near Sanctuary asking for prayer.
Tomorrow is the monthly homeless memorial... always hard.
A few interesting things happened during outreach tonight. Saw G... drunk... he mooned Doug and I and then kicked a huge dent in a car that was turning at the intersection we were at... I forget what it was that he was trying to prove. We walked away from him because he was dishing out his usual insults that Sanctuary wants to control everyone on the street and that we see him as an f-ing project.. etc. etc. We went around the block cause we knew our friend C. was down the street. G. met us int he alley and continues to yell at Doug while I met with C. and a bunch of other street folks who congregated while I was there. I handed out socks and water and we chatted about what was goin on - Doug and G. eventually joined us and we went on our way. I found out later from a couple I ran into as I was heading to the subway that G. and a friend who had come up as I was chilling with C. got into a big fight. I think he was just looking for someone to punch... and for someone to punish him the way he believes he deserves to be.
We ran into a lot of people we know tonight... but nothing way out of the ordinary went down... just short conversations and updates on life over socks and water. We did get a free show from a kid who couldn't be more than 17-18 who walked on his hands on the road and sidewalk for us... then told us about the horrors of the last shelter he was at.. and how much he hates CAS because they wont help him out financially unless he gets a fixed address... right now he's living on the streets.
Last week we met a man on outreach who absolutely broke my heart. He was panning just north of Bloor on Yonge street and we asked him if he could go for a pair of socks or some water. He started telling us about how he used to own a house in Montreal but then his wife and two kids were killed in a car crash 6 months ago and he cant find a reason to live. He burst out into tears on the side of the busy street and I didn't know what else to do than just hug him and listen. He spoke of heartbreak and suicide attempts. His daughter was a lawyer, and engaged. He'd just come to Toronto from Montreal and had no where to go. Heartbreaking. I tried to encourage him that there really were reasons to keep living, though I was racking my brains trying to think of one that wold suffice. What can you tell a man who is pouring out his soul to a complete stranger? All I felt I could do was hold his arm and give him a hug. And then after a few moments we had to walk away. We told him about our services, offered our prayers.. but none of it really seemed like it could do anything for this man who was just.... in such anguish.
I saw A. a lot last week, an older native man confined to a wheelchair who, thanks to the dedication and friendship of folks at Sanctuary now has housing and a trustee to help him manage his ODSP check. We did groceries for him last week among other things. His sister just got out of jail and is back turning tricks and deals in his room... which is hard to see cause it makes his life less manageable and more chaotic for him... but she did clean the place up, and offers company... its a bittersweet situation.
I saw the woman who threatened me at the end of outreach today... I just saw her form across the street. She was panning in front of the strip club near the church. I really want to talk to her, but she was very obviously drunk, so Doug went to say hey and I headed back to the church... her boyfriend was on the bench in the park near Sanctuary asking for prayer.
Tomorrow is the monthly homeless memorial... always hard.
Friday, May 2, 2008
First day of internship~
Well... my first "official" day of interning at Sanctuary was quite intense. Last year my first official day was unbearably so, marked by the passing of California. This year, yesterday was intense for very different reasons.
Yesterday morning, Alan and I went to work on continuing to clean up our friend D's place. We started last week after finding out that he had apparently been hoarding a lot of stuff and was feeling really overwhelmed seeing the mess that had accumulated over the last few years, or however long it had been since his apartment had been cleaned out. Last Thursday there were 5 of us in his teeny weeny apartment for a few hours and the way we left it was how I had imagined it would look when we went to see it. I don't think he had thrown anything out in a long time.. and there was anything imaginable... just everywhere. I did dishes for three hours and didn't get through half of them. So yesterday we went back for a few hours and made a lot of progress which was great for D. Now you can actually see the floor and see the bed and see the table etc. whereas before you just kind of knew they were there. For D, someone with anxiety and social issues, I can only imagine what having such a disastrous and chaotic living space was doing to perpetuate his mental health issues. I am so glad we were able to go in and help him with sorting out his living space and getting rid of a lot of the junk he's been storing up. I feel like having a somewhat orderly place to live will help him in so many ways... I'm really glad to have been able to help him out in that way, because I can only imagine how incredibly overwhelming it must have been for him.
After cleaning I caught up with Patrick's school group and hung out for their debrief. It is interesting to note the types of questions high schoolers ask when faced with the realities of the streets.
Last night at drop-in an old friend came by for the first time in months and months. It was so great to see him and get caught up. He shared with me how he got a job and got a place and how things are going well for him. I am so excited he is doing well, he is a dearly beloved friend. He also shared, however, that he's fallen back into smoking crack and that he is worried about it. I hate crack. I hate it so much because I've seen the devastation it's caused in so many of my friends lives. I hope and pray that my friend doesn't continue using, because it won't be long before all the progress he's made is lost to the drug. This is someone I want to be at my wedding, and to be an uncle to my children. The friends I talk about at Sanctuary are real friends... I don't just call them that because it's conducive to the image of community we try to achieve.
The real intense part of my day yesterday, though, didn't happen until after drop-in was over. During staff debrief we talked about a number of issues including the various stories various people had been told by a particular community member. This person, it should be noted, has a history of violence. He did time for his part in the murder of his gay lovers father, a story he retells as if it were a badge; the murder being evidence of the deep and unquenchable love they had. He is now involved with another man and in the same sort of infatuated love where all rationality comes second to the deep bond the two share. This lover, however, has a wife. Yesterday S. spoke with many different people, telling them all different stories about his feelings, and a gun he has acquired, and what he intends to do. To no one did he outright say that he was intent on killing her, but in staff debrief last night we pieced together the trails he had left everyone and it became evident that this man might have been hinting at this. We discussed all sorts of questions: whether to involve the police, whether to go the psych route and get him taken, what to do with the gun if we did get it from him: turn it in and face questions, or destroy it and potentially destroy evidence... there was/is just so much that complicates the situation. We desired above everything to place the safety of S. and the woman above everything, and also did not want to fracture our relationships and trust with S. We ended up splitting into teams: A group to go confront him and try to talk to him, a group to wait in a car nearby, and my group: a group to stay at the church and pray. They ended up finding him and taking him out for coffee, and they apparently made a lot of progress with him, saying he was lucid, sober, and in a good head space. So last night ended well. I am incredibly blessed to work with the people that I do at Sanctuary and last night was evidence of that fact. In everything they try to work for the betterment of the community, and keep calm, rational, and loving in times of crisis. I continue to learn so much form them.
Yesterday morning, Alan and I went to work on continuing to clean up our friend D's place. We started last week after finding out that he had apparently been hoarding a lot of stuff and was feeling really overwhelmed seeing the mess that had accumulated over the last few years, or however long it had been since his apartment had been cleaned out. Last Thursday there were 5 of us in his teeny weeny apartment for a few hours and the way we left it was how I had imagined it would look when we went to see it. I don't think he had thrown anything out in a long time.. and there was anything imaginable... just everywhere. I did dishes for three hours and didn't get through half of them. So yesterday we went back for a few hours and made a lot of progress which was great for D. Now you can actually see the floor and see the bed and see the table etc. whereas before you just kind of knew they were there. For D, someone with anxiety and social issues, I can only imagine what having such a disastrous and chaotic living space was doing to perpetuate his mental health issues. I am so glad we were able to go in and help him with sorting out his living space and getting rid of a lot of the junk he's been storing up. I feel like having a somewhat orderly place to live will help him in so many ways... I'm really glad to have been able to help him out in that way, because I can only imagine how incredibly overwhelming it must have been for him.
After cleaning I caught up with Patrick's school group and hung out for their debrief. It is interesting to note the types of questions high schoolers ask when faced with the realities of the streets.
Last night at drop-in an old friend came by for the first time in months and months. It was so great to see him and get caught up. He shared with me how he got a job and got a place and how things are going well for him. I am so excited he is doing well, he is a dearly beloved friend. He also shared, however, that he's fallen back into smoking crack and that he is worried about it. I hate crack. I hate it so much because I've seen the devastation it's caused in so many of my friends lives. I hope and pray that my friend doesn't continue using, because it won't be long before all the progress he's made is lost to the drug. This is someone I want to be at my wedding, and to be an uncle to my children. The friends I talk about at Sanctuary are real friends... I don't just call them that because it's conducive to the image of community we try to achieve.
The real intense part of my day yesterday, though, didn't happen until after drop-in was over. During staff debrief we talked about a number of issues including the various stories various people had been told by a particular community member. This person, it should be noted, has a history of violence. He did time for his part in the murder of his gay lovers father, a story he retells as if it were a badge; the murder being evidence of the deep and unquenchable love they had. He is now involved with another man and in the same sort of infatuated love where all rationality comes second to the deep bond the two share. This lover, however, has a wife. Yesterday S. spoke with many different people, telling them all different stories about his feelings, and a gun he has acquired, and what he intends to do. To no one did he outright say that he was intent on killing her, but in staff debrief last night we pieced together the trails he had left everyone and it became evident that this man might have been hinting at this. We discussed all sorts of questions: whether to involve the police, whether to go the psych route and get him taken, what to do with the gun if we did get it from him: turn it in and face questions, or destroy it and potentially destroy evidence... there was/is just so much that complicates the situation. We desired above everything to place the safety of S. and the woman above everything, and also did not want to fracture our relationships and trust with S. We ended up splitting into teams: A group to go confront him and try to talk to him, a group to wait in a car nearby, and my group: a group to stay at the church and pray. They ended up finding him and taking him out for coffee, and they apparently made a lot of progress with him, saying he was lucid, sober, and in a good head space. So last night ended well. I am incredibly blessed to work with the people that I do at Sanctuary and last night was evidence of that fact. In everything they try to work for the betterment of the community, and keep calm, rational, and loving in times of crisis. I continue to learn so much form them.
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