THE PROBLEM WITH FORESTS
by Carl Mazza
Any forest is a complex sum of many individual parts. So is the social crisis we call homelessness. When we try to define what is true, or meaningful about a forest, its very intricacy poses a problem. There are countless varieties of plants, animals, ecological structures -- a huge array of individual parts that go up to make a whole. Even so with homelessness. Its comprehension and solution defy simple, easy answers. There are many "trees" in this forest also (far too many!) and no two are the same.
I received a response to my article last month, Giving Shelter by Turning Tables which touched me more than usual. It was written from Cincinnati, Ohio from a person who clearly has been well acquainted with homelessness firsthand -- and also part of the valiant, dedicated struggle to help end it. This person is right in the "front lines" helping to provide shelter, meals, anything and everything to help persons out of the homeless quagmire.
The letter took exception to my agreement with Maryland Action for the Homeless' call to end emergency shelter as we know it. The person said:
I would caution you that making the statement publicly that there should be no emergency shelter is idealistic at best and fodder for harassment campaigns at worst. The Greater Cincinnati Homeless Coalition has since its founding had a mission of ending homelessness in Cincinnati. The mission is not to end emergency shelter in Cincinnati. In a city of five million there will always be need for emergency shelter. Why send out a confusing message in Maryland when it could have a disastrous ripple in Cincinnati and other metropolitan areas.
Their point is well taken, and I would agree that there are some who would use our own self-critical discussions to a harmful advantage and try to end all help to homeless person in any form. These observations notwithstanding, we are facing an even greater danger from within our own community of advocates and service providers by being too interested in self-defense.
The rallying call to "end homelessness" is one that virtually everyone would agree on -- from liberal Democrats to conservative Republicans. This in itself is a problem. There would be wide latitude and disagreement, however, on the specifics of how the end of homelessness might be accomplished. Far from being challenged by the statement, I think we are starting to become complacent about it. The rallying cry is losing its teeth. There are a lot of dedicated persons working themselves to the bone in the cause -- many shelters have been established and maintained through the vision and hard work of reformers, activists and workers. Nevertheless, it is also a reality that a virtual industry has mushroomed around homelessness on which many now depend for their livelihood. We may assert that we want to see an end to homelessness, but how sincere and deeply felt is this desire? Making the statement is one thing, acting radically to make a difference is another.
I think one of the important steps which must be considered at this time is to transform our thinking regarding the nature of shelters. I personally am getting to dislike the very term shelter. It's very name implies care-giving as opposed to encouraging growth and renewal of life. The question must be asked again and again, "As we build and maintain emergency shelters, are we also dedicated to making sure that they are places in which homeless persons can find their way to home?"
Are residents involved and encouraged in shelter management and decision making? Are they represented on its board of directors? Is there adequate provision for persons who need to stay longer than the mandatory thirty or sixty day time limit? Are the rules and regulations really benefitting homeless residents or are they more for the convenience and well-being of the staff? Is there adequate consideration to turning "cold weather shelters" into "year round shelters"? How do homeless persons themselves define the parameters, rules, and attitudes of their own shelter? What I am proposing is that we think and work hard to make even temporary, emergency responses into more useful platforms from which homeless persons can restore their lives.
These are issues that must be raised. In fact, we need to start becoming a little more disagreeable among ourselves so that our comfort level is challenged and our conscience aroused. We will never call for an end to emergency shelter! But we will fight with every ounce of energy to call for an end to abuses which are practiced in the name of helping homeless people and given legitimacy as being "emergency shelter."
The most important thing we can do as homeless advocates is to challenge the spirit in which services are offered. More often that not, homeless persons do not have a real voice in the management of institutions and facilities which are supposed to be helping. There is not even the encouragement to think in this way. In many places, they are now being referred to as consumers or even customers -- they are given the title without any of the real rights and privileges a good client would have.
I am aware of shelters and missions who have been helping the homeless for over a century, and the lines at their door are longer than ever. The sincere desire to help is often present, but we now also need a stronger element of self-examination to ask: Why? If we are really offering a solution, why are the lines so unrelenting? Merely raising the issue, as I am doing in this article, will provoke anger and defensiveness, but this is all the more reason to probe for more. I may be very wrong in my conclusions, but raising tough questions for discussion should always be welcome.
For example, many soup kitchens serve their meal at noon -- certainly at a time when it is easier to get volunteers. But what about the homeless person who is working, trying to save up enough to get a room or apartment? Is there provision made for an evening meal or a boxed lunch for such persons? This would help in more than just an emergency format, it would allow the person flexibility to be supported in getting and keeping employment. Also, what provision do certain night shelters make for persons who are working nights and who need to sleep during the day, when the shelter empties out after breakfast and won't let its residents return until evening?
I have never seen such anger as when questions such as these are raised. Shelter staff, management, boards of directors, and others can become livid when they perceive such things as "criticism." We don't like to entertain such possibilities when we are working so hard to be helpful, but we must, if we are sincere, or our heartfelt efforts will all be in vain and homelessness can never be ended.
This is all the more reason to raise the issues, pose the questions, demand a better process -- one that is inclusive and open to the issues that need to be raised. Some years ago, a homeless man came to me in confidence and trust to let me know that the shelter in which he was staying had a big problem. The person keeping the door, who had the absolute say over who was admitted for a bed at night, was requiring a bribe from each entering individual -- from money to candy bars and cigarettes. No payout, no shelter. This resident was depressed by the practice, and I talked him into going in with me to speak to the shelter director personally about it.
After presenting the problem, the response was an angry rebuttal as opposed to concerned listening. And, as final insult, the homeless man was barred from ever returning for shelter. I cite this as an example, and I know that many other persons who have experienced homelessness have similar stories to tell. My point is: It is of vital importance that every institution or organization -- large or small -- that publicly serves homeless persons to demand open feedback, criticism, debate, questions, discussion from homeless and formerly homeless persons, and to make their voice a predominant one in all official decision-making. How else are we to avoid abuses and trivial programs, which only serve to perpetuate the problem of homelessness in persons' lives?
I ask that before we attempt to define the forest, we first consider the trees. We may be intimidated by the complicated nature of our task. But the process in turn may give us perspective, and a tendency not to think or decide so quickly on the nature of homelessness as a social problem with standard solutions which apply to everyone no matter who they are or where they are coming from. Our solution may not be their solution, and our attempt to help may not be what is really wanted or needed. A forest, after all, is something that really exists only in our mind and language. It is only what we envision or want it to be.
Some altruists find it easy to love humanity; it is individual persons they cannot warm up to. Dorothy Day used to refer to love as the "harsh and dreadful" process of encountering and relating to real people, "warts and all." Herein, then, is the dignity of it all: we cannot love humanity, only humans. We cannot help homeless persons, unless we are first willing and able to become such a one. Then the task becomes to love and help our neighbor as we would so to be done for ourselves.