After you finish your volunteer shift at Project Homeless Connect, record your observations from your experience here as a comment. Record everything you remember from your day and include as many details as you can. Be as descriptive as possible. As you conclude, reflect on what was significant about your experience.
IMPORTANT: Please do not use people’s real names. Use initials or pseudonyms. We want to preserve the anonymity of the people you interacted with.
I just finished with Project Homeless Connect, and it was not what I had expected. I was paired with LH: a man with a master's degree in finance, who has been crushed by the economic collapse. He is suffering from pneumonia, and has been in transitional housing for about two days. He was living in an apartment, but he said that his roommate used all of their rent money for his drug habit. Apparently the guy even used their food stamps.
ReplyDeleteLH told me that he is divorced, and we talked about his family quite a bit. He seems to be somewhat disconnected from them. He is smart, well-travelled, humorous, and an outsider to the homeless community. Ironically, this has made it more difficult for him to get services. For example, all of the transitional housing organizations were only available to people who needed rehabilitation and have no income. It made me realize that government spending on social programs must be very insufficient. Private organizations attempt to fill the gap, but they can only offer services to those in the most need because of their limited resources.
LH and I visited the IRS to get information about a W2 form. This will help him document his income, so that he can move into affordable housing. We visited the health services, and he knew a nurse practitioner there who was supposed to see him. He met with her, and she treated him for pneumonia. While I was waiting, I listened to another homeless man talk about how he didn't like most of the shelters I couldn't hear the details of what he was saying though.
LH and I joked a lot, and we talked about a variety of things as we ate lunch. He knew two other people who were at project homeless connect, but I'm not sure how he knew them. He wanted to help one of them find one of the booths, but we couldn't spot him. LH seemed to be someone who used to live a lifestyle like that of my family. I mentioned the restaurant I ate at last night, and after he asked me what it was called, he knew exactly where it was. He didn't identify with the social structure of the homeless community that I've been reading about on SOCindex.
I've read about how the habits that people acquire after seeking a sense of belonging and identity in the homeless community can make it hard for them to exit homelessness. I don't think that LH would do any of those things, and I know that he is getting certified to be a stock broker. He is doing things that will help him earn money he has lost, but I wonder how he feels about our financial system. After all, it's structure is what led him to be homeless.He is homeless because of events beyond his control.
He had a positive outlook towards getting back on his feet, and he said, "What else can I do?" This made me think about quality of life-- what determines it? It's often linked to income, but if you have no income or severely reduced income what things can improve your quality of life? Is it dependent on what services you can access. For LH, will he always feel unhappy if he never returns to his old standard of living? The other thing I though about a lot was how he must have felt attending Project Homeless Connect. Maybe he felt ashamed or embarrassed. Maybe he felt that it was just something he had to do; a resource that he was taking advantage of. This experience gave me a lot to think about, but I haven't formed any conclusions about it. Overall it was positive.
When I woke up this morning, I was tired and experiencing a crucial headache... which did nothing for my nerves. I was somewhat anxious as it was and was hoping I would do a decent job. I wanted the day to go really smoothly, and found the chaotic line outside Ritchie to be a bit discouraging when I showed up for my 8:30 shift. I need not have worried. I was partnered up with a man named Andrew and right off the bat, he made me feel much more comfortable about my work as a volunteer. Andrew had a thick Italian accent, and shared with me fascinating stories about the other countries he has experienced in his life. Though he had some harsh words for Denver and the hypocrisy of the "American Dream," Andrew was a very friendly man with a good sense of humor. We discovered that we have a lot in common - for instance we both speak French (a fact which, I believe, caught him off guard because he was kinda hitting on me in French and I was able to answer him appropriately) and both want to spend time in Paris. I never really discovered Andrew's true circumstances with his homeless experience - though I'm confident he felt comfortable around me, I don't think he really wanted to share such intimate details, and I didn't really feel it was my place to press him. In fact, he simply refused to let me write for him when we were doing his profile information in the beginning - he literally took my clipboard so he could answer the questions for himself. I got the sense that Andrew came from a high socio-economic background and something happened to change his circumstances. He was able to describe in intimate details all of his trips overseas and the lavish lifestyles he led with his ex-girlfriends (he made sure to let me know that he "loves the ladies") but did not want to answer me when I asked where he slept last night. Andrew even had a blackberry and kept texting while we were waiting in line - to be honest, this made me slightly confused but I was willing to roll with it. Whatever happened to cause him to become homeless, it did not make him a bitter or resentful person and we had a lot of laughs during our time together.
ReplyDeleteToday, we were able to get Andrew a Colorado ID, dental assistance, and some clothing articles. I felt really bad when we were picking out clothes for him because he was taking a lot of items and I wanted to make sure everyone there could get what they needed. I made a comment about it, and I think I embarrassed him. It was a tense moment, but we pushed past it and sought employment information. By the end of the day, Andrew was a bit frusturated because he did not get what he needed for employment, but I still believe we achieved a lot during the short time we were together. He did not want to complete the exit survey, but he was not at all mean or nasty about it. His ride came to pick him up at 10:30, and by the time he was ready to go, I felt very comfortable with the day's events.
With a thoroughly romantic Italian air (I know, this is horrible - this was project homeless connect, not love connection... it wasn't like you're probably picturing, I just had to write it like that...) Andrew told me he hates saying goodbye. We hugged, high-fived, and loaded his stuff into the van. I sighed with satisfaction. All in all, I feel this was a very successful day.
PHC started off pretty slow for me. I got to the gym at eight-thirty and was in line until about ten thirty waiting to get a person. For a moment I almost gave up hope of getting a person at all because they said that no more buses were coming, but finally a lady walked up the stairs and I was paired up with her. Upon meeting her and asking her how she was the day the first two words that MR responded with were "I'm feeling positive". At this point I could already tell that she was a motivated woman. We sat down to eat a little breakfast and she answered every question dilligently, showed me her already typed out resumes, and was ready to get going. She knew exactly what she wanted to get done and the order she wanted to get it done in. At first glance I didn't even think she was homeless, or at least I wasn't sure because she was wearing a business suit and seemed professional. But when going through the survey I found out that she has been homeless and living in a shelter in Boulder for about the past two weeks. Before that she was on the streets for awhile. This woman was completely warm and endearing and down to earth that when she was telling me about her reasons for being homeless I got kind of emotional. She was originally from Washington DC and moved to Colorado as a part of the dining services for Cirques du Soleil, but then lost that job. After having a back injury and waling pnuemonia she had lost a job and a place to live. She had one to college for three years in North Carolina but didn't get a degree. At the end of our day we just sat and talked and she told me about her biggest dream which was to open up her own clinic for woman who were pregnant, who could come in no matter what kind of economic status. I could just see how much she wanted that in her eyes and it was really sad to me. One of the most surprising things to me was how she said that no one would help her because she wasn't addicted to drugs, she wasn't physically or mentally disabled, she didn't have a lot of children and wasn't a single mother. A lot of the services she had tried before today just wouldn't help her and I found that so frustrating. But as we started to move along the day we got everything done that we wanted to get done, like getting her and ID and birth certificate, dropping off resumes at the job fair, and going to get information on housing. At the end of the day I could just tell there was a huge weight lifted off of her shoulders because she talked about how she didn't feel like she was going to have an anxiety attack anymore and how happy she was and accomplished she felt. When I walked her outside she gave me a huge hug and told me how much she appreciated the fact that I would listen to her, which I think something that doesn't happen very often for me. She told me that since the summer she has applied for about 400 hundred jobs, I don't know if this number is exaggerated or not, but in any case it just really sucks that its so hard to be able to find a job. She even talked about how she had a job and an apartment but the job didn't pay enough to be able to keep the apartment.
ReplyDeleteOverall I had such a good experience at PHC. I felt like I actually did help to make an improvement in this woman's life even if only small. I definitely felt that I made a bond with her as well because she was just so nice and endearing. She made sure that she as pronouncing my name completely correctly, she made sure to introduce herself to every person that helped her and she was so grateful. While walking around PHC I saw a lot of smiled on the faces of people being helped and I just think that the whole project was a really great thing. One thing I thought was really cool was just how many volunteers there were too. As much as I hated waiting in the line, it showed that everyone had the spirit of getting out their to help in any way that they could. PHC is definately something I want to do again and would recommend to anyone!
When I arrived at PHC with a handful of other volunteers from my floor, there was a lot of confusion and fumbling while we tried to put ourselves wherever it was we were supposed to be. The line ended up being rearranged three different times and once they finally had all of us volunteers settled, there was little to do but wait for clients to arrive. It ended up being over an hour before I even met my client.
ReplyDeleteProject Homeless Connect wasn't quite the experience I had expected. Unfortunately I spent most of my time in lines and not with a client. Yet the time I had with a client was enlightening. I was paired up with D, a nearly 60 year old shorter man who walked slowly and spoke softly. I wasn't quite sure what to expect as we sat down at the tables in order to fill out the forms. I think that a lot of the questions on the forms turned out to be awkward to work into any kind of conversation and some also worried me that my client might be uncomfortable answering. As it turned out, my client was quite forthcoming in spite of being soft spoken. D had no reservations about sharing his financial information and social security number, which I have to admit surprised me since both topics that even well-to-do folks tend to shy away from and this was a man who needs to hold on to everything he’s got. D has been “homeless” for ten years. He lived on the street for four years and then was fortunate enough to move in with the Coalition for the Homeless and has been living there for the past six years. One might say that this basically removes him from “true homelessness” but that doesn’t make him any less deserving of the services at PHC. D was in the Marine Corps back in the day, but now spends most of his time in the park. A while ago D was injured and ended up with a herniated disk in his back, and sometimes his leg gets numb (from the injury he said). This incident rendered him unable to work anymore which is the main factor he cited as a cause of his homelessness. He is on disability now, and if my math is correct (“income” – payments = $ for the month) D has about $170 to live off of every month. Disability benefits are actually the reason he came to PHC in a roundabout way. D is having trouble with his bus pass since RTD wants proof that he is on disability, so he was hoping to come and get a disability card. Other than that he only came to PHC to check out the event, to “see what it’s all about”. It was a little confusing to try and find out exactly where I should be taking D, so I had to ask around to a few different people. Eventually I was pointed in the direction of Social Security (which was in a location that was slightly different from that which was on the map). When I got to SS, the woman regarded me with a very quizzical expression as I tried to describe what D needed. I was slightly reluctant to just turn the situation over to him 1) Because I should be helping him, not just pointing directions 2)Because I was afraid that the woman wouldn’t be able to hear him. Yet that part of it all went well. It turns out that there is no such thing as a disability card and what D was actually looking for was a Letter of Benefits. I thought to myself “OK, sweet this lady knows what we want and will now proceed to take care of it.” But it turns out I was mistaken and she couldn’t help us at all and now D has to go to the actual Social Security office. I felt terrible. All that D wanted was this one thing and I couldn’t help him at all. I was so sad when I was saying goodbye after that, since he said he didn’t need or want anything else. He seemed happy that he had gotten to just see what the event was like, but I felt like that wasn’t good enough. He was a very sweet man and I will probably always be disappointed that I didn’t get to help him.
After that I spent more time in lines, and ended up tagging along with another volunteer and her client for a while. Her client was pretty much the complete opposite of D, playing things very close to the vest but also being quite boisterous at the same time. I think that my disappointment with D's situation casts a slight pall over the event, but I wouldn't count the experience as a loss. It was a great learning experience, I got to meet different people that I probably would never have met otherwise and learn a lot about a sphere of life that I knew little about.
Today I really hope was an eye opener for the many students on this campus. As for me for once in my life it was strange to be on the other side of things. I wasn’t really sure what to expect to when I got. I had gone to the training but was still a little nervous about making sure I was going to do things right.
ReplyDeleteI go there at 8:30 and realized that the line to get paired was huge! After a while I was sure that I was going to be waiting until the whole things was over, but finally at 11 I got paired with women, and I’ll refer to her as YG. This women showed up in bright purple shawl and purple eye lashes. I complimented her on them and she told me she had to look her best, in her words. “If I look a little better they’ll help me more.” After this we sat down started filing out the questions, as we did this I started to get a lot of her story. She had been homeless for the past 5 years and this is the first year that all of her children are homeless as well. She has a 26-year-older daughter who is clinically depressed and a 22-year-old son, who never finished high school. Her youngest daughter has died 3 weeks ago due to seizures and not receiving proper medical care. YM suffered from an abusive relationship, which is why she had to leave her home in the first place. All of this came out simply through answering questions on a piece of paper , and I immediately felt a connection with her because most of my family has gone through a lot of these similar situations.
YM was primarily concerned getting an ID , and getting legal and medical assistance. Our fist stop was legal services to see if she had a warrant out for her arrest. We met with the layer and he said it could probably get cleared up today and she would have to visit homeless court. While waiting we got in the I.D. line and realized that it was very long and moving very slow. We were even half way through when she got called to court and, at that point, I saved her place in line while she went to her hearing. She returned about half and hour with 5 hours of community service to serve away her warrant. Her exact words were “ It feels like a big weight lifted. Now maybe I can get in a shelter.” We continued in the line and it ended being close to two hours before we finally got through. At this time it was 1:30 and everyone was breaking done, but she was determined to see CILC in order to get some health’s services. She found the man just before he was about to break done, and got her taken care of. We waited for her children to get through the lines, she refused to check out until they were done. While waiting a girl was handing out socks. YM asked for some and it was at this time I realized that she didn’t own a hair and her feet had huge blisters on them as she put on the socks.
This women has been through so much turmoil in her life. Emotionally and physically, and I felt so touched by her story and her determination to keep her family together. Those who live in these horrible condition are quite often the ones we should look to for advice on how to survive this thing we call life., we might learn a thing or two. I know that YM taught me a few.
I woke up this morning disoriented from staying up late. Trying to wake up, I ate some oatmeal, and headed out of the dorm in my yellow PHC shirt. I saw two RAs decked out in yellow too and asked them if they were headed over to PHC. They said they weren't but then proceeded to walk over to the Ritchie center. I felt a little bit nervous. I hoped that I would get matched up with a nice client. On my way over to the Ritchie center, I met up with Caroline and Laine. At first all three of us were not sure which entrance to go into, then we realized we just needed to head into the doors by the talking lips. Once inside we made our way down the corridor. Everything seems pretty tranquil then. I already saw people I knew helping out clients.
ReplyDeleteSoon I had a clipboard in my hand. I met up with Ashley. We stood in the back of a huge sea of yellow inside the annex of the Ritchie Center. I felt like a lot of homeless people would need to show up in order for us to become matched with a client. Then an orange lady in tangerine came up to us, the edge of the sea of yellow shirts. "I need two client services volunteers." I hesitated for a moment, then I followed Ashley. I wonder if we'll be doing something different, I thought to myself. The lady in tangerine lead us to the juice and coffee canisters. "Hi Robert" (not his real name). "I'd like you to meet Sarah. She'll show you around today."
"Hey James," I said. "Nice to meet you."
We shook hands and he started grumbling to me about the ignorance of the people outside.
"I was outside and then people told me to come inside to find a volunteer. Then I came inside and no one matched me up with a volunteer."
"I have a short fuse." He continued. "Low tolerance for stupidity."
Uh-oh. I thought to myself. I volunteered myself and now I'm hooked up with a troublemaker.
"So what are we doing?" He asked, a cup of coffee in one hand, filling a cup of orange juice with the other.
"We're just going to grab a granola bar and run through some surveys that the supervisors want us to fill out and then we can start getting you connected to some resources."
Hesitantly, I lead him over to the tables as he continued to complain about the stupidity of the people outside.
"It's not you I'm mad at. It's just the people who were directing traffic outside."
"Yeah" I replied. Things can get disorganized sometimes."
We sat down near one of my friends who I had been in the same Spanish class with last quarter. She was smiling charmingly, nodding, with a twinkle in her eye as she talked with a client. Little did I know I would be doing the same thing in about an hour. Her client seemed really intent on talking to her about something.
"Okay so here are these forms they want us to fill out. Just to get information about who attends the event."
"I need to be out of here by 10:30. Here, it'll be a lot faster if I fill these out."
He slid the clipboard away from me.
"Okay. No problem." I let him go to town.
"One time I filled out a twenty page form in six minutes," he told me.
"Whoah. That's so fast." I marveled at the feat, genuinely impressed. "I used to be a maintenance engineer, before I got a mental illness. I could read sixty pages. Diagrams and everything and remember it all." I thought about my aunt and uncle who have mental illnesses. They have good hearts but their minds aren't right and of course it isn't their fault.
"Can we be here if we're not homeless," Robert asked, rose colored glasses set down on the table.
"Yeah, no worries." I said.
He continued filling out the survey, checking the box that said No in response to the question: Are you homeless?
"I've lived here and here and here." He proceeded to check boxes under the where you have lived section: on the street, under a bridge, in a hotel.
"I've got an apartment now." He continued. "That's great," I said.
As he got to the page about family members, he wrote big N/As across each of the columns.
"Alright are there groceries here? Some people said I could get food here."
"Usually on Friday's I go to the EEW and get groceries, but today the group was going here."
"Uh, this is my first time at this event. I'm not sure if they have groceries here. I think they have food resources though. We can definitely ask and find out."
"Are there any other resources you want to check out? I gestured with a pen to the list at the top of the survey. "Maybe just the general resources," he replied.
"Okay, awesome," I responded, checking the resources box.
"Let's go find out about these groceries."
We walked over to a lady in a red t-shirt with red glasses and her hair pulled back in a ponytail. "Hey Amy," Robert said, "Do you know where I can find some groceries. Someone told me I could get food here."
"I'm sorry but we actually don't have groceries to hand out here."
"What about sandwhiches," Robert shot back. "I've seen some people walking around with sandwhiches."
"Lunch is served at 10:30 but nothings available right now."
"Any clothes?" Robert asked.
"We do have professional clothing items down in the Gates Field House."
"Okay." Robert said.
We headed down the slick concrete floor out the heavy doors of the Ritchie Center and into the bustling Gates Field House.
"Did you know the Gates Field House was built off a donation from a rubber plant?" Robert asked (I'm not sure if that's exactly what he said but he threw in something about a rubber plant.)
"No, I didn't. Haha, you know more about he university than I do, Robert."Now that I had spent about fifteen minutes with him, I began to feel more relaxed. He was talkative, good natured, and friendly in an open sort of way--despite the blip at the beginning. We had an objective, and that made me feel good to. At least PHC could help him out with some clothes, even if we couldn't hook him up with groceries.
Robert and I stepped up to the Info Desk. "Where can we find the professional clothes?" my client asked. The volunteer behind the desk pointed us in the right direction and Robert and I continued on, as he joked with her before leaving.
He approached the men's shoes I started looking at sizes. "Do you want a bag?" another volunteer asked him, holding out a green hold foods sack. "Is it free?"
"Yeah, we have lots of them." He took the bag and kept examining the shoes, asking about D and M sizes and which one came before the other. "I'm not sure." I said, as I held his oj and other canvas bag, happy to be of some help, even if it was just in this small way.
As examined the leather shoes, I took a closer look at my client. He wore a coal colored newsies hat, a dark colored jacket, and some shabby looking pants. What struck me the most about Robert were those rose-colored glasses of his, sort of thick in the lenses, but stylish. They fit his face well, had a bit of duck tape on one side of them, and an intricate design on the stems of the glasses. Overall I decided his gesturing, and rhythym of speech reminded me of Robert Dinero, specifically the Robert Dinero in the Meet the Parents movie, plus a coal colored go-tee.
Soon Robert had found a pair of shoes he thought to be suitable. We walked around a rack of ties. He examined them and picked up one or two he liked. I read the signs about clothing limits. Thinking I might mention them,then being the pushover that I am I just went along beside him, figuring he could read as well, and thinking it wouldn't be the biggest deal if he took more than you were suppose to take. I am a complete pushover, especially when it comes to dealing with people I don't know or people who are older than me. I am pretty spineless in that way. He kept talking for most of the time, asking me about what I was studying. When I told him I wasn't sure, that I would probably study English and maybe Public Policy.
He chided in, "I knew you would say that, every college student I've ever talked to doesn't know what they want to study."
"Yeah," I said. "There's just so many great subjects to chose from."
He slid slacks back to look at, one by one, that hung on the metal hangers. "Are these black or navy?" he asked me, "Holding up a pair of really dark pants."
"I think they're navy" I replied. He looked at the pant's tag, then gingerly folded the slacks on his knee before placing them in his grocery sack. As we stood there, somehow we got on the subject of woman's rights. He talked about Gloria Steinum, who I admitted I wasn't familiar with. "Oh man, you're in college and you don't know who Goria Steinum is?" He proceeded to tell me about how she took her bra off on capitol hill and lit it on fire. I told him that we sort of skimmed over women's rights in my U.S. history class, but assured him I'd definitely go look her up later on.
A photographer snapped photos of us as he put another pair of slacks in his bag. He came up to us, asked us our names, had us pose for a picture. I always feel awkward around photographers, especially when they ask you pose or smile, so I felt weird around this guy and didn't want him to interfere with Robert's shopping. My client finished shopping soon after that. As we headed out to find the hair cut station I told him how I felt about photographers.
Back at the info desk, Robert inquired about a haircut. "They should be over there," the volunteer motioned behind her, "but I think they aren't here yet."
"That's alright," Robert said, "I don't need to hassle with it. Let's go see if they're serving lunch yet." On the way out of the Gates Field House, Robert went up and talked to the two policeman standing by the entrance/exit. He told them some crazy story about how he was at this family reunion and then some of the teens at the motel were out in the parking garage naked and there was snow outside. He told the policemen and I of how he shut all of these teens back in their rooms before their parents found out what they had been up to. Some of Robert’s stories, like this, made me wonder a little bit. But the whole time I just kept smiling and listening attentively. Although I felt a little alarmed at the graphic and violent nature of some of his stories, I knew that I was safe and that my main obejective for the day was to just have fun and help Robert out. Robert was really enjoying talking with me, he said as much, and even had us try to find a supervisor to tell them how great his day had been.
Robert and I found the white paper bags with an m and m cookie, an orange, and a bag of potato chips inside. Sitting down at a small round table, he offered me the m and m cookie, saying it was a girly cookie. We stayed sitting and talking there for a long time. He told me more about how women were treated so badly back in the day. About how I should tell my mom and grandmother thank you for what they went through. Every once in a while Robert would see someone he knew, a neighbor or a member of his Baptist church community. He would say, “excuse me for a moment,” and go talk with his neighbor or give his a fellow church member a hug. As Robert told me about his life, I learned that his mother was Italian, his father was Irish. His dad had him start working at the age of 11. When Robert went to school, he told me he won every fight he was in. “You know why?” he asked me. Of course I didn’t know why and so he explained to me how his dad viewed suspension. If he was suspended from school because he was in a fight that he won, his father would take him out for a steak later that night, if he was suspended from school because of a fight, one that he would happen to lose, then his father would beat him. Robert told me he never lost a fight because he never wanted to be beaten by his father. He proceeded to tell me about how his father never cussed in front of his mother, how his father might cuss among the guys but would never stand to have a foul word said in the presence of his wife. One time Robert’s sister’s boyfriend came over to their house, cussed in front of Robert’s mother, and before the guy knew it, Robert’s father had him by his neck. Apparently he shoved him so hard out the door that the screen door broke.
I never found out what mental illness Robert had. I definitely didn’t ask him but I can’t help but think how different his childhood was from my own. Reflecting upon his circumstances, it makes me think about he is a part of those statistics, about how the abused so often become the abusers, or of homeless individuals who have suffered some mistreatment from their parents. Robert told me a lot about his honey as we sat around the small grey table. He showed me a picture of a young women with long curly black hair and mesmerizing eyes. “Isn’t she the most beautiful women in the world?” He asked me. I nodded and smiled as he continued talking. He told me about how her ex-boyfriend was no-good and about how he beat up her ex-boyfriend so bad. He told me about how he receives social security and saves up to buy the corner apartment, so his honey can have peace and quiet. “Her mental illness is bipolar disorder, so she doesn’t like to be bothered by people. There’s a nice balcony where she can go and sit in the quiet,” Robert explained. He told me how he has a Mercedes and a Cadillac. How people gave them to him in exchange for work he did. He also told me of how he buys his “honey” designer purses and clothes. “How could you say no to her?” He asks me. I have to admit, as he’s telling me all these stories, I find myself wondering what’s true and what’s not true. Who knows, maybe there’s not one lie in his stories, but for all involved I certainly hope there is exaggeration. Robert tells me of how he bashes someone with a frying pan or busts them up real good, of how he spends sometime in jail. All of his fights seem to involve protecting a woman, whether it be his mom or his sister or his girlfriend. Finally it’s time for Robert to start heading out. The group he came with, their shuttle leaves at 10:30. I tell him that I think we’re suppose to go to a check out station. Over at discharge he picks up three toothbrushes, picking out two that are blue and one that is pink, for my honey he says. He happily fills out the survey and then we head down the hallway towards the large steps that lead down to the street. He thanks me for showing him around all day and I assure him I’ll brush up on my reading about women’s civil right’s movement. We shake hands and say goodbye and go our separate ways in good spirits. Soon I rejoin the large sea of yellow in front of the Ritchie Center, meeting back up with Ashley and with Corinna and other friends. We talk a little bit about our clients and eventually find a tangerine shirt and ask whether we’re needed anymore. The lady in the tangerine shirt thanks us for our work and tells us we can probably head out, that not too many more people will be coming. With that, I turn in my empty clipboard and start walking back towards J-Mac.
Overall PHC gave me a glimpse into a totally different life and mindset than my own. I met a man with a good heart but perhaps violent tendencies. He taught me that you can never know where people are coming from, their background, their history. His want for food the entire day emphasized the importance of providing food to the homeless. He just wanted a good sandwhich. Talking with him and seeing friends talk with their clients also made me realize how important it is to hear people's stories.
My PHC experience was much different than I had hoped. There was a group of about 5 of us that were working with Jamie and Melanie. It took us about an hour to actually find Jamie and figure out what our assignment was. We ended up being placed at discharge, collecting the surveys. As I approach this paper I am really unsure of what I plan to write about considering I did not work with any of the homeless one on one. However, I traveled to three different service sites over the past weekend. I visited two transitional housing complex in Lowery and moved trees that were planted on Saturday and I visited The Crossing, which is a transitional housing complex with help groups for drug addictions and homelessness. I got to see some of the alternatives for the homeless, which was really interesting. There were a few parts of PHC that stood out to me. First was the interaction between the volunteer and client. Most of the clients seemed excited and glad to have someone helping them. Another was the responses that many of the people left on the survey. There were two answers that I saw most often and they were that the volunteer was wonderful and disappointment of not finding housing. The final thing that stuck out in my mind was a newspaper one of the clients gave to me and the first article asked the options for the homeless. It talked about how the police kick them off everything and there are few places to stay. It got me thinking over the next few days, where do they go? Transitional housing, shelters, the streets. What can the city do to help solve this problem. There has been more transitional housing developments and hopefully there are more to come. While at The Crossing and Blue Spruce I noticed the great number of families that were there that weren't seen as often at PHC. All the kids seemed to be enjoying themselves with friends living close by and you could tell this was a community in it of itself and they were glad to see some new trees being planted. There was a community garden, playground, everything that you would see in a small community.
ReplyDeletePHC for me was slightly disappointing because I did not get to work one on one with somebody, but it made me think, what are their options.
I arrived at the Ritchie Center at exactly 7am. For my Business 1080 class, we have to complete a service project so we decided to do Project Homeless Connect. Originally I was supposed to begin at 8:30am but I decided to meet my group earlier so we could make it as much of a team effort as possible. Luckily I arrived earlier because I would have been even further back in the volunteer line if I had arrived later in the morning. I waited in line for an hour and 45 minutes as the homeless clients trickled in. There were times when I was worried I would not even be matched with a client because there were so few arriving. Around me people who had participated in previous years talked about the lack clients compared to last year. One person mentioned that she arrived last year at 8:30am and they were clients waiting to be paired up, but this year was just the opposite. The tangled maze-like line weaved in and out of the stairs and through the Ritchie Center with clumps of volunteers. Even though we ended up having to wait for close to two hours, everyone seemed to have a pretty high morale throughout the long wait. Our biggest concern was the threat of not being able to help anyone out (which is a nicely altruistic concern).
ReplyDeleteOnce I got to the front of the line, I zoned out wondering which person I would be paired with. Someone then ushered me over to JK, my client, and we introduced ourselves and shook hands. Immediately, I could tell he had a pretty relaxed personality. His appearance was a little more on the disheveled side. He had one gold front tooth which I could see flipping back and forth inside his mouth. Still, nothing about him made me feel uncomfortable. At times when we were talking my eyes would switch to that shiny distraction making me then feel a little guilty because we all have imperfections and he just does not have the means to fix his tooth. Once we began walking through the Ritchie Center, he let me take the lead. We stopped for coffee and then I directed him over to the tables so we could begin the questionnaire. He sat down with his plastic grocery bag of belongings and removed his yellow Discman headphones. I had not seen a Discman in years, but not everyone has the luxury of an MP3 player and computer access. After we sat down he went to the bathroom quickly and trusted me enough to leave his belongings at the table. We then began filling out the questionnaire. At this point he did not go into much detail. His priorities were to obtain an identification card and get information about employment and housing. As of right now, he lives in a shelter with the Denver Rescue Mission. He was living in Topeka, Kansas until the middle of March when he decided to move to Denver after being laid off. He has construction experience and used to drive an 18-wheeler truck. He liked the truck driving job. About fifteen years ago, he got a DUI after having a few beers, running a red light and hitting a woman in her car. Whenever he described some sort of trouble he had gotten into, he said it was not his fault. After the DUI, his license was suspended and he has had an identification card even since until he lost it again recently. Later he vaguely described how a police officer took it from him but the reasons were unclear. He went with a group of eight from St. Francis to the DMV to obtain a new ID card a few weeks ago, but they said there was some sort of hold placed on his social security number and gave him a phone number for the DMV investigations division. I figured it would be a good idea to start with the ID card service because he would need identification in order to get a job. We began in the ID card voucher line, but then JK’s eyes drifted over to the clothing area and he decided to peruse that instead. Unfortunately, by this time a lot of the decent clothes had already been taken. He was in search of new tennis shoes and a new pair of pants, but no tennis shoes were left and all the pants were too big. We then returned to the ID card voucher line. This line actually moved fairly quickly. When we spoke to the woman giving out vouchers she was very optimistic and reassuring and sent us on our way to the longer ID card line. I was still somewhat worried that he would not be able to get an ID card, but she made it sound like it was very possible for them to fix it so we headed over to the longest line in the Gates Field House. We waited for almost two and a half hours. On our way through the line, I gathered employment information for JK to look over. He was not interested in doing the online search with AARP and instead just stood in line with a look of boredom.
During the wait, I asked him about his opinion of the service providers. He said he thought the overall system was helpful. He seemed to have an optimistic view of the services offered. He has been homeless three or four times before and only recently became homeless again so he understands that these services can help people overcome their situations. Even though he had such an optimistic view, it was hard not to become discouraged while waiting in the long ID card line. We ended up standing with another man JK knew who was physically and mentally disabled. This man had been in jail before and his only form of identification was his inmate card. At one point during the wait, this man asked to use my cell phone to call his social worker or psychiatrist because he is supposed to pick up the refill of his medication. He seemed like a very trustworthy and genuine person so I allowed him to use my cell phone. He just made the call and left a message. Then, he nonchalantly explained how he is often a few days late to their meetings so it was no big deal. There were so many people with so many different backgrounds and stories.
Once we got to the front of the line, about three hours later, I started talking to the woman outside the booth about JK’s previous attempt to obtain an ID card. She then told us that we should probably talk to legal services, but unfortunately JK did not know what the investigation was relating to his ID card. I decided that we should just go into the booth and talk to the DMV service provider. We walked in and I handed the woman the voucher and his previous ID card which had expired in 1998. She typed in the information on the computer and then proceeded to tell us that they were unable to issue him an ID card. After waiting three hours and spending our whole day in one line, JK was denied the ID card that would be his ticket for employment: an opportunity that would help get him back on his feet. He seemed a little frustrated, but still remained calm. She gave us the number for the DMV investigations. JK explained that he had tried calling this number many times before but had never gotten through to a person who could explain the reason for the investigation. Even though he remained calm, I was frustrated and disappointed by the fact that we had waited all day and I had not been able to help him obtain an ID card. The legal services were directly next to the ID card line, so we went to talk to those volunteers. They were unable to help him because there was no explanation of the investigation, but they gave him three numbers for legal services related to identification problems. Previously, he had difficulties getting in contact with the investigation services because he could not use other people’s phones for too long. I hope that these outside legal services will be able to help him determine the reason why he cannot obtain an ID card and then hopefully help him acquire one. He did not have any problems with identification before he returned to Denver. It is discouraging to see a man who is so determined to get a job simply be denied because he lacks up-to-date identification. Before he left, we got him a voucher check so he can go to the regular DMV and hopefully obtain an ID card. I wish there were a way for me to find out if he figures out this problem or a way for me to offer him further support.
After this experience with Project Homeless Connect, I am encouraged even more to learn about and involve myself in the resolution of poverty issues and homelessness. I built a connection with a man over the course of one day and it would be nice to continue this connection and see him succeed. So many of the people I met were determined and optimistic that they would get help from these service providers. This surprised me because if I were in this situation I think I would feel more let down by the system than optimistic. Even after my client was turned down, he seemed fine and figured he would just return to the DMV another day after talking to the legal services. I do not think I would have left with the same optimism, but this optimism helps people like JK survive each and every day. It is inspiring to see so many people at Project Homeless Connect making an effort to move up in the world. Even with the current economic conditions, they are not discouraged. Instead, these Project Homeless Connect clients are working harder than ever to raise themselves up. I would like to go downtown and visit the Denver Rescue Mission to get a better feeling for my client’s experience living in homeless shelter. He just gave me a hug and left after we completed the forms and discharge. While we each go our separate ways and continue our own lives, I feel enriched by this experience and believe I am now more open-minded. The people I see on the streets have their own lives and stories to tell. Not all homeless people are on the streets because they are drug addicts or criminals, some people are products of a failed economy or a failed system.
It is afternoons like this where I wonder about him. Where clouds rest linger as the rain pours. It is not on the sunny Colorado day that took place for PHC. How lovely it truly is to have a conversation with a person about being homeless when it is so nice outside. Walking to PHC, I remember how with each step how much I wanted to have a Veteran to thank them for their service. Walking to Ritchie I felt the gold tower awkwardly shadow my presence as a volunteer. How could it be that a gold plated tower was the signal for the homeless? I wonder how many people each gold plate could have housed. Standing in line I was lost amongst all the yellow shirted volunteers like me. Had I really forgotten how much volunteers love to complain? As the line moved slowly I exchanged the general thoughts of my weekend with my sister. After about an hour of waiting a good friend asked me to come out of line and help this man who needed to use the elevator. I’ll call him JD. JD walked with a limp and he was a Veteran. His prosthetic leg was made out of car parts that he picked up along the way. His leg was ripped off after a train accident some 5 years ago. He served two tours in Vietnam and when I told him thank you for your service he took a double take. I asked him about the VA, PTSD, and what amount of disability he was receiving. He was shocked about how much I knew about the system of Veterans and how I knew saying thank you would mean so much. I forgot how that would be surprising. 19 year old girls aren’t supposed to know about that, unless you are a Veteran’s daughters. Unlike others I am very aware of what it means to be a homeless Veteran because JD could have been my father as much as anyone else. Like many of the Veteran’s I have known JD is frustrated and feels like the VA and his country has failed him. He feels like these services have failed him and as the meets with social security for the 100th time to see if he was eligible for disability. Right now JD is waiting to be unqualified as disabled. Over lunch JD happily pointed out everyone he knew. He would often to stop to talk to so and so and see how they were doing. JD knew everyone! He really stressed to me the sense of community that the homeless have. He also pointed out who was a drug dealer and who to stay away from. More than services he simply wanted someone to talk too and be excited for him with all his inventions. JD needed someone to celebrate his humanity and his desires—someone to celebrate his life.
ReplyDeleteI figured that PHC would be a very busy and tiring day, so I planned on waking up early enough to eat breakfast before walking over to the Ritchie Center. I was pleasantly surprised that it was a nice day outside. I was excited that the sun would be out when the homeless arrived at the DU campus. I got to the Ritchie Center and was extremely surprised by the mass amounts of volunteers that were in line waiting to be paired with someone. Some of my friends who were on the earlier shift said they waited over 90 minutes before they got to help a homeless person. I wondered if they expected more homeless people to come than the ones who showed up that day, or if they just wanted to have extra volunteers just in case.
ReplyDeleteStanding at the end of the line, a women in charge told a group of us in the back to help anyone who was walking into the building without a volunteer with them. So, when I saw a woman without a PHC shirt on walking into the building, I asked her if she needed any help. I was hesitant to go up to her because, if I passed her on the street, I would never think this person was homeless. This person, who I will refer to as LS, is a 50-year old white woman, who was dressed for the weather in jeans and a jacket, and looked completely healthy. She had never been to a PHC before, so we first sat down and talked about her situation and the types of services she might need. She wanted to get a birth certificate and a social security card. While filling out the first form, I learned a lot about LS. She had been staying in a shelter, and was going to a six-month rehab program on the 30th of the month. PHC was a good resource for her to get the things she needed before she left for rehab. LS did consider herself homeless, and she said some of the contributing factors were her alcoholism, losing a job and family violence. She had two kids, one of which was my age, and was divorced. She still remained in contact with her kids and saw them often, even though they live with their father. Getting to know LS was definitely my favorite part of the day. Throughout our day, she opened up to me about her life experiences and some of the challenges the homeless are faced with. After we got her social security card and birth certificate ordered, and she picked out some clothing, we sat outside so she could smoke a cigarette. It was there that she really talked to me about her life. She first told me how helpful it was for her that I was there to guide her around, and she would have left if she had to find everything on her own. She told me about her family history, which was very sad. Her older brother had sexually assaulted her sister, and he tried to do the same to her, but she was able to defend herself. Then, in recent years, her brother was murdered. At the time, she had been sober for over a year, but when she went to her brother’s funeral she relapsed because it was so emotional for her. She talked about the constant circles homeless people have to go through just to get something like a birth certificate or identification that they might need to apply for a job. She was very grateful that PHC provided a “one stop shop” to get the identification she needed. The problem was she did not have a permanent address, and they needed to send the cards to her. I never thought of a permanent address being something I take for granted. She had to give them the address to The Gathering Place and had to tell them to hold her mail if she was in the rehab facility when they came. She also ran into a friend she had met in the shelter she was in at the beginning of the year. She was extremely excited to see her because they had lost contact since she moved shelters. This was a very interesting thing to observe, and I think it brought up another positive aspect of PHC: uniting the homeless community.
After saying goodbye to LS, I helped out a couple. The woman was 4 months pregnant, and this will be her fourth child. She has had each child in 4 consecutive years, but she has lost custody of the first 3 because she had been in jail recently. Although she never shared why she was in jail, she did express that her boyfriend and her were trying hard to get on their feet in order to get their children back. They spent most of their time working on resumes and practicing interviews so that they could start applying for jobs. They were living with a cousin, but wanted to be able to get a place on their own. At the end, they both had resumes that were very professional.
Overall, I think it was a really good experience. I think they could work on creating bigger areas and more help for the lines that they know will be long, specifically the drivers license area, which had a consistently long line. I loved meeting and talking with the homeless people, and I am glad they also enjoyed our help.
Project Homeless Connect was one of the coolest things I have been part of here at DU and I think that was mostly in part because of the man I had a chance of working with. I arrived there at seven thirty and the air was just such an excited one, filled with early morning daze but nonetheless we were all there to work. Immediately the lines began and i was one of the first ones to get paired up, and this is where I met Shell.
ReplyDeleteInstantly he was excited to be working with me I could tell, as he gave me a pat on the back and told me he was ready to "do the damm thang!" He was a black man in his mid 40's who had been a veteran in the US Army. As the morning went on and we started filling out paperwork it was clear to see that he had been through this process many times, and he was so open and honest that it made both our jobs much easier. He told me how he had been homeless for the past two years, and how he actually carried a job for most of those two years but he could never save up enough to get a stable home, and he had been in prison for what i could understand to be theft and drug posesion charges. As he told me he has been clean since he entered prison many years ago, but he still struggles in the streets where he says "drugs are more available than food." After we figured out that what he wanted help in which was about seven different things we just went forward with our day. He is a very tall man, carrying a backpack full of things i did not see, and he is very weary to leave his bag anywhere, even at the bag check where we assured him it was in safe hands, it was very tough for him to let it go. After he finally let go of it, he told me of the many instances where he had gotten robbed, and the major setbacks that has each time it happened. He does not trust people, and it is obvious that won't. As we went to the different stations they were very helpful to him and he was the kind of person to go in and out, he wanted to waste no time or get anything excessive out of the situtuation. Just what he wanted and that was it, but sometimes he wanted more than what was offered so he found ways to go back and get seconds and thirds. I learned alot about homeless people that day, i learned that there is this place where they can go shower, and brush their teeth, and keep some things under lock and key, also where they could get their mail from. The address is 2323 Curtis Street, and he told me that it is getting harder and harder to find a job because businesses are starting to understand that this is just a place for the homeless to keep their things. I learned that socks are a really crucial part of your well being because so many of them get plagued by foot infections because of wearing dirty or old socks and sharing them, so when they offered him socks he was quick to get as many as he could. I learned that when you are homeless you have to be very resourceful and very well organized in the way you keep things, as he was packing many things he had gotten that day i watched how he used the little space he had to hold on to many things. It was quite impressive to tell you the truth. One of the most rewarding moments of my day was watching him jump for joy when the child support agency lifted a huge bill he had to pay. About five years ago his license had been suspended because he was not paying his $400/month child support bill, which he said he couldn't even come close to affording. As a truck driver when he got his license revoked, he lost his job, which led him down the road of homelessness. We negotiated with them and made a very reasonable plea and they told him that if he paid $75 they would reinstate his license and he was just so happy, he told me that this huge burden for the past five years had just been lifted off his back. There was a situation where he wanted to attend the job fair, but they wouldn't because prior to attending the job fair he had to get in contact with the coordinator and fill out some registration paperwork which he hadn't done because he had found out about the fair the day prior to. So Shell being so "bad" we snuck around the back and went in, even though we were questioned for being in there we somehow made a successful run in there. We had a good time and we had a really productive day and i was really happy i helped shell, and as we got to talking he just gave me so much advise and poured out alot of his heart to me. I was blessed to be able to meet him. Project Homeless Connect was great!
My experience at PHC was very interesting. I stood in line for nearly an hour and a half with friends that I don’t see very often, so it was good to catch up with them. I then got my client. Let’s call him Jay-Z, and his girlfriend Beyonce. My friend Ali and I were together with Jay-Z and Beyonce most of the day. First, we took them over to the tables to fill out their information. It was very hard to hear both of them, because they were very shy. Our first stop was legal services (unfortunately none of the red shirted people could tell me where that was). Once we found legal services, Jay-Z was told that his trials could not be held in homeless court, because they were from Aurora. However, Beyonce’s cases would be held in Homeless Court. While I was waiting for Jay-Z at legal services I was talking to one of my friends who was waiting on her client. Her client had four pages of warrants out for his arrest, and apparently would get a ticket anytime he Jay walked. I found this extremely unfortunate. After legal services, Ali and I split up Jay-Z and Beyonce. I took Jay-Z to Health Services, and Beyonce went to Homeless Court. When I was at Health Services with Jay-Z, we were asked to wait for a while. Since we were near the massage tables, I took him over to get a massage. He started hitting on me and asking me to give him a massage. He got scared when he thought a man was going to give him a massage, so the massage station accommodated and had a woman work on him. After the massage, he was going through paperwork with one of the nurse practitioners. When I was filling out paperwork with him, he told me that he did not have any mental illnesses, but when the nurse practitioner asked him, he said he did have a mental illness.
ReplyDeleteAt the time, Jay-Z had a cold, and all he wanted was some cough syrup. We had no way of obtaining that.
He asks, “Yo, they got condoms here?”
So I went to check. I asked around, and apparently those are not offered at PHC (they probably should be). So I returned and told him they didn’t offer those.
He answered with, “They probably don’t have my kind anyways. You wouldn’t know anything about that, you’re too young.” (I am only 1 year younger than him)
He started hitting on me again and asked me to take him to my dorm room, so I thought it would be best to go find Beyonce and Ali at Homeless Court. We waited for Beyonce at Homeless Court, and when she was finished, we realized that her charges were dropped. I asked her about her case. Apparently she was caught stealing fake nails, before she even left the store (is that possible?). The reason she was stealing the nails was to do others nails in order to pay for the other debts she had acquired. After this, we ate lunch. Between Beyonce and Jay-Z, they probably grabbed around 9 bag lunches and shoved them in their backpacks.
Jay-Z did not want to visit any other stations, so we waited in line to get Beyonce an ID. Beyonce was waiting in line to get her resume. I turned around and Jay-Z was gone (Remember guys…this was my fear in class!). I decided to stay in line, because he was a smart guy and I knew he could find his way back. After about 30 minutes of waiting in line, I decided to go look for him. I wandered out of Gates and back toward the fitness center. As I walked in, he saw me and caught up with me. He told me he was outside “smoking a cigarette”. I am not going to call him a liar, but I would guess he was smoking Cannabis not tobacco! His eyes were bright red and he went in for more lunch…
It turns out Beyonce would not be able to get an ID, so I got out of line again. I ran and got her a check so she could go to the DMV at a different time to get an ID. Jay-Z had a heated discussion with the DMV table, and then I took them to their bus. Overall it was an interesting day.
I feel like I accomplished a lot that day. I overcame some fears. I was assertive and goal-seeking, and I was able to help people that would not ordinarily get this type of help.
Its 630am and I am woken up to the sound of my buzzing alarm. I get dressed, leave my room and meet up with some equally tired friends. As we began the long walk from Jmac to the Ritchie Center, we started to talk about our thoughts for the upcoming day. One of us was extremely nervous and felt scared that she might lose her client. Another was completely emotionless to the upcoming event. I was excited and eager to meet my client but wasn’t too focused on the day ahead. A friend and I were bust discussing last night’s antics. When we walked into the Ritchie Center, it was total chaos. I have never seen that many people there in my life. We were immediately directed to go outside, check-in and grab a clipboard. We then went and grabbed a granola bar and juice (which I later found out we were not allowed to do) and sat on the stairs. We waited around talking for about an hour before it was time to line up. While waiting in line with some friends, we noticed a discussion going on between two women standing next to us. One of the women pulled the other woman aside and told her that she should not have written her last name on her nametag. Both of the women ten walked back into their place in line and the one woman tore her nametag in half to only show her first name. I was so angry by this that numerous mean thoughts came to mind, “Why would you be scared to show your last name? We show or tell our last names in public everyday! At the grocery store, in class, at restaurants! Did this woman really think that these people were going to try and use her last name against her? The homeless people are coming here today for your help, not your last name!” After I cooled down a bit from the naïve act behind me, I was more eager than ever to meet my client. It was sheer chaos at the front of the line, which made it difficult for me to find my client. A man in a red shirt told me to follow the woman who had us walked inside without a client. I ran after the woman and tried to get her attention by shouting, “Excuse me! Excuse me!” She finally turned around panicked and told me that I really scared her because she is not used to people coming up from behind her like that. She then turned and kept walking along. I was so stunned and taken aback by her comment that I just turned around and walked back outside. I felt awful for not staying with her, but she seemed so angry with me that I could not keep pressing her with my services. I went up to the man in the red shirt, hoping he didn’t recognize me and asked for a client. He walked up to this older African-American woman and said, “Jessica, here is your client for the day, Ruth.” Her face lit up as we walked inside and just wouldn’t stop talking. We went to grab some breakfast and then sat down to fill out our form. The form took about a good 30 minutes to fill out because Ruth loved to talk about every question and tell lots of stories. Ruth began by telling me that today was her 67th birthday and she was really excited to be here. She didn’t have much in mind as to the services she wanted. She told me that she was a widow and the only main problem she has been dealing with recently was depression I knew at that moment that the best help I would be able to give her would be someone to talk to and listen to her stories. Ruth then told me that she wasn’t technically homeless and that she was renting an apartment in a low-income residential community. After more stories about her upbringing and things we had in common, we left to go the Gates field house. We had three main things on the agenda to take care of, employment, bus pass and food. After not finding the information that she was looking for at all three stations I asked her if she wanted to get some lunch. We went and grabbed a bagged lunch and stood outside. I felt like it was okay to stand rather than sit on the floor because she had told me earlier that she does charitable runs and is a good sprinter. I asked her about her husband and how they met. She had the most elaborate story that was so vivid with description. I was so surprised that a woman of 67 could still recall the memories that she spoke about. We then talked about the different places she has lived and traveled to. Our conversation went on for a long time but I was never bored. I was so interested I all of her stories that I couldn’t stop listening. When it came time for her to go, I was truly sad. I felt like I had made such a close friend within the few hours that we had met. As she walked away I told her to take care and that I was so glad I had the pleasure of meeting her.
ReplyDeleteWhen I walked home I reflected on the day. Although I was not able to find the exact services Ruth was looking for, I felt like I helped her in other ways. Ruth just wanted someone to talk to and listen to the stories of her past. This experience was healing for both of us. We were able to sit and communicate about life issues regardless of our financial situation. This experience made me realize just how equal and alike we all are. People are people no matter what their socio-economic status is. We all go though similar issues and have similar concerns. By talking to each other, Ruth and I were able to explore that and touch each other’s lives.
Here's Briana's comment:
ReplyDeleteThe event was not very efficient, though it was coordinated. The morning started off confused, having the volunteers stand in line waiting for the clients to arrive. During this time, leaders were giving up conflicting directions and orders. Once the groups of clients started to arrive, the lines moved quickly and volunteers were soon matched up and busy. For me, the rest of day involved filling out my clients intake sheet, getting to know him and find out what his needs were. Jamie, as we will call him, was a middle-age African-American man who has lived in the denver area his whole life. He was released from prison last fall, and since then has been homeless, or living for short says with his sister in a different area of Denver. He has a number of family members in the area, but because of family issues and his time spent in jail, he is no longer in close contact with them. He informed me that his main priority for the day was to get his Colorado Identification Card, followed by getting some medical services, looking for job resources, and finding out about any housing for which he may be eligible. He was not very talkative, so beyond the information he gave me for the form and the information he told me to help him access resources, he told me very little else.
Jamie and I first went to the ID area, but since he had not had an i.d. card since 1997 when he was incarcerated, he could not get his Colorado ID Card that day. He had also had his Department of Corrections ID Card stolen, so without either of those qualification, he had for make an appointment to first get his DOC card and then, with that and his birth certificate he could receive his Colorado ID Card. Jamie found this whole process very frustrating, especially because with a criminal record and not form of verified ID, it is nearly impossible for him to find work.
Jamie and I then went to the medical area where he informed me that all of his vital signs were health, but he also wanted a dentist to take a look at his mouth. When he came out from meeting with the dentist, he told me that he was very glad to have talked to the dentist. Jamie had a sore in his mouth and was not sure if it was normal or not, and the dentist informed him that he needed to have a full appointment with a dentist because the sore was potentially dangerous and if the slight infection that was in it became systemic, it could be life-threatening. We then went and got his eyes checked, he got his perorations, and was informed where he could potentially find a resource for a free or discounted pair of glasses. Jamie was very excited to hear about this, since not having the ability to see what he was reading was making it hard for him to fill out forms at sheathers. Jamie had told me that he wanted to find out about employment, but when we went to that station, that said he needed to have a resume made first. So, I walked with him to the resume station, but while we were in line he informed me that he thought making a resume would be a waste of time since he had been in prison.
Next, we went and Jamie picked out a tie and dress shirt that he said would match his suit that he had at his sister. He was happy to fine a tie that “ matches the baby-blue of that suit as perfect as can be”. After that, we went and looked at the housing resources, but since Jamie was already staying at a shelter, he knew about the shelters there. He wanted something was more long-term than the resources had. We went and ate lunch together, after which he check out, got his belongings, and went to meet his bus.
During lunch is when I felt I observed the most about both Jamie and the homeless community that attended Project Homeless Connect. Jamie and I sat at a table that was almost full. At this table were five other black men and their aides for the afternoon. These men, including Jamie, had gone to high school and played basketball together. they were all homeless now, most had been to prison, and some had been homeless for nearly 35 years since leaving high school. While i sat there and ate my chips, Jamie and his old buddies talked about life on the streets and what they had been doing in the time since last seeing each other. three of them had been in prison, one for murder, one for domestic violence, and one for dealing drugs. They talked about how dumb a lot of kids are, going to jail just to finish their GED or to get their AA. they talked about how hard it is to find work these days, especially if you have a criminal record. They talked about their kids, how they never see them, how the mothers of their children refuse to talk to them, and how their cousins, brothers, fathers, and sons are dying in the streets from hot lead, dying in the alleys from shooting up hot ICE, or in the prisons, from hot UAs.
In between walking with Jamie to different stations, eating my chips, and pealing my orange, I was also able to see how other people were interacting with their homeless client, and how the clients themselves were acting. Nearly all of the people i saw working together were working together well, and the recipients of services were very polite and grateful. However, I was more intent on seeing what the individuals appearance and body language said about them. I would like to preface this by saying that this is in not a judgement, and I am in no way an expert; these are just what my life experience and textbook readings have taught me can be infered based on physical cues.
By and large, the I saw the attending homeless community was white, followed by blacks, Hispanics or Latinos, native Americans, and a smattering of other races. The data tells us that most homeless people have some form of mental illness, but there were only four or five people that I saw that exhibited the pronounced trademark signs of mental illness. However, I saw a much greater number that showed signs of drug and alcohol abuse. I saw a man with very pinched facial features and a broad nose without a philtrum who showed signs of both being drunk and being a person suffering from Fetal Alcohol Syndrome. I saw numerous women wearing short sleeves with track marks up their arms, or twitching and scratching in an abnormal fashion. I saw one man sitting on the stairs pull of his baggie and roll a joint with no concern for who could see him. I was also surprised by how many people around me at lunch were talking about frequent drug use and the employing of prostitutes. What surprised me the most about these conversations was not their subject material, but the openness with which it was discussed. Though Geoffrey told us that in his experience the homeless are very open about their situations, I was surprised by the extent to which they were forthcoming.
I saw many of the homeless people held themselves with far more confidence and openness than the people leading them to help stations. Some of the homeless were timid, shying away from attention and seeming quite intimidated by the gaudiness of the Ritchie Center. However. most of the people i saw just took what they were looking at at face value and were more interested in getting their needs met and saying hi to old aquantiances than they were about how they looked to everybody else. I came away from working at Project Homeless Connect feeling that I had helped someone better understand what resources are available to them, and myself having more respect after having seen what kind of obstacles the homeless face in living in such a materialistic and self-centered time.
I arrived at the PHC cite around 8:30am, all I see was a staircase full of people wearing gold volunteer shirts. There was not much clients coming to receive service. An hour goes by I was pulled aside by a group leader in a Red shirt. She had ask me to assist a client in need of a wheel chair. At first was extremely chaotic because there are two clients needed wheel chairs. I had no idea where to get the wheel chair or who I was assign to. The team leader, she had start pushing one of the client towards the elevator, I follow them into the elevator, team leader introduced me to Margaret. Margaret has been staying in the Samaritan House since she got run over by a truck few weeks ago. She had a cast on her right leg. We went upstairs to the breakfast area, there were no breakfast left, only coffee, I sat her down at a table than went back to grab coffee and granola bar for her. She waited for me to bring her coffee and food. She said she is not used to people serving her. She said she usually does everything for herself and it is really hard to be taken care of. I asked her how did the accident happen she said she was crossing the street than the guy just didn’t see her, ran her over and another person. We went through the questions on the intake form. Margaret was extremely familiar with the intake form. I had ask her if she had gone through PHC before, she said this was her first year. At the Samaritan house they were encouraging everyone to come and receive services. I asked her what kind of service does she need, her main service needs were, Birth certificate, Social Security, CICP, employment, and a haircut. We proceed to retain a birth certificate for her, on the way from the dining area to the gym I had ask her if she may tell me a little bit about herself.
ReplyDeleteMargaret grew up in Chicago. She was in an abusive relationship with her husband. She left Chicago because her situation was extremely bad. She was involve with domestic violence. Margaret didn’t want to go into the details. Working with domestic abused survivors I understood reasons why she didn’t want to tell anyone. While waiting in line for her birth certificate, I had ask why she was in prison. She didn’t feel comfortable to share with me. Which is understandable. Margaret told me about her family. Her daughter and her son lives in Arizona. Her son is going to dentist school, and her daughter recently just had a baby. I asked her after she got out of the prison why didn’t she live with her family? She said because they had their own lives now. Her daughter recently had a baby and can’t help her out. Her son is going to dentistry school and have some financial problems of his own. She said finding a job after serving time in prison is extremely hard. The government didn’t provider her with housing, or any kind of resources after she has been release from prison. She ended up in the Samaritan house for the time being. However, Samaritan house only provides tempeorary housing, she will have to get another place before she end up on the streets.
Since her car accident she wasn’t able to find a job because she had to have some surgery in the near future. Margaret is counting on the settlement from her car accident. She want to use that money to get a house, helping her daughter to raise her granddaughter and to help her son to pay for school. When she has no problem getting her birth certificate. We moved on to get a social security card. I pushed Margaret to the social security card section. She had everything ready, she had her state ID with her and all her information. We went through the line very quickly. Others are not so lucky. A lady before us had a photo ID, however, it is not a state ID. I saw her got turned away by representative of social security office. Margaret came to PHC for a purpose. She knows what she wants and what she needs. She understand how to navigate the system. In the other hand I had no idea what the requirements to obtain services.
After obtaining her social security card we decided to see how long the line is for getting a haircut. There was a very long line. Margaret doesn’t like to wait, she wants to be in and out. I don’t know if it was me that makes her uncomfortable or being in the ivory tower environment. She got a voucher for a haircut. We waited in line for CICP service. Although the line wasn’t extremely long but it was quiet a wait. Margaret saw other resources decided to grab some information from the Empowerment program. She is trying her best to be on track with her life. She stood up from the chair and accidently dropped all her medication for her back from the accident. I helped her picking up her medication. She had two bottles with her, one for her back to ease the pain and the other was for her leg. We sat down with CICP service provider. He had asked ask to sit but left the table to use the restroom. She was very impatient about the process. A week ago she was at the doctor office to do check-up after for her injury. She had left her wallet at the doctor’s office. She had called them and went back to check however, they weren’t able to find her wallet. The wallet didn’t have any money in it but it was valuable to her, it had her ID, social security card, CICP card and other valuable things. Service provider came back he sat down and go through a packet of forms with her. I had no idea how long the form was to apply for CICP. Different counties have different rules to apply for CICP. Afterwards she had received a card for her CICP service, we went to lunch.
As we are standing in the lunch line, Margaret was telling me that the food at Samaritan house are always the same. She never had the change to get hot food especially on Fridays. They serve fish at the Samaritan House on Fridays, Margaret doesn’t eat fish, she usually had to find her own source of dinner. On that day they were serving pasta with some kind of meat sauce. Margaret grabbed a big bowl of pasta and a bag of snacks we went and sat down. She said she hasn’t had good pasta in a long time and she really enjoys the amount of ground beef they had with the pasta. Since, I don’t eat meat I went and got another bowl for her. She was extremely content with extra bowl of pasta. For me, at that moment, I felt I take daily things too for granted. I have hot food everyday, and can make varieties of them. At the time, I felt if something this simple can make her smile and her day better, I would grab a container full of food for her to take back.
Sodexho didn’t let me do that, but I did manage to her snack food for her to take back.