Reminiss whatdimiss

This is the lonely time of the evening.  Many times, sitting here, dreading going back to Grace House I pretend that my past is my present loosely forming a future of coulda beens and if only I had gone right instead of left.  It's like regret with a broader imagination...kinda like the dreams one has when they are asleep...extra bright, impossible and barely connected to reality.

I think about "what would my life be like if I hadn't messed up my marriage...that one is almost too big to hold but for a moment since my daughter, happy and playful and in my arms, plays a major role in it. 

I think of what if me and she were still together, but together the right way without all the violent upheaval and the tearing… and the waste.  She is the love of my life and the regret there, between her, her kids, my child and me, is the freshest. 

My life is a series of bad choices and missteps.  I almost feel that I was born of a bad choice, which rests in my DNA like sickle-cell does in my Cousin John's.  At times I have almost been incapable of making the right choices...and so many have been hurt by my blowing it. 

(I am trying an experiment right now, taking the focus off of me, giving a spiritual sacrifice to a child that I hurt and praying for healing and to be disciplined enough to see it through.  God help me.)

In my dream I am standing at the edge of a park with slight rolling hills on a day in the middle of spring when the birds sing and the blossoms on the trees are the most fragrant and life is new.  I am spiritually, financially and emotionally secure, thin, and happy watching my family play with abandon in front of me, smiling back at me because I provided for them this life.  That has been my dream for soooooooooooooooooooooooo long that it almost seems like something I saw on a T.V. screen...something that I would have love to have been a part of...like one of those car commercials.  But then I look around, and my life aint nobody's commercial...its just reality and regret.  Security and Love...that, I suppose, is what I missed...

Just 5

You know the old saying; "Hurting people hurt people"...it is true, maybe more true now than when it was first said.

In my hurt, confusion, anger and despair I have hurt MANY!  I am so sorry for that and I am working, to dry up those rivers of tears that have been shed on my account.

As I am doing that, I want to pose a challenge to you dear reader...go out of your way and help 5 people today.  Use your hurt in a different way, vow in your soul that no one else will ever be hurt by you intentionally.  Because, honestly, your lifetime of hurt may just be used to start someone on the path to their healing.  What terrible tragedies you have gone through may become a bulwark to detour someone else from going down that destructive path.  Take your eyes off of yourself for a few minutes (what you have to do, where you have to go why you have to...etc.) And put eyes on the other lonely, defeated, overwhelmed soul next to you. 

Just 5, help 5.  Listen to someone, without judgment, give your time and effort to improve someone's life today...smile at 5 people instead of frowning at them.  Buy a Homeless guy a sandwich, send a calling card to a soldier, let someone out there know that they are worth more than their pain.

Sure, "Hurting people hurt people", but did you know that Hurting people make the best healers?  They do if they move the focus from their pain to someone else's and act in love toward that person.

C'mon...just 5...

Paul

I just wanted to take a few moments to talk about the man who trained me to be an R.A. at Grace House.  Paul Douglas was about 50, 6’3", 270lbs and coffee black.  He had a penchant for wearing Kangols and t-shirts and baggy shorts despite the weather.  Paul was big and very intimidating and used that to his advantage often. He kept Grace House in line with his presence and cool; almost Shere Kahn meets the dirty south delivery. 

My first run in with him came the first night I had been accepted as a resident of Grace House.  After bed check I went into the bathroom and washed my one and only pair of socks in the sink.  Just as I was finishing up, Paul walked in the door and looked at me coldly.  "Now, were not gonna have a problem here are we Mr. Ware?"  He already knew the answer from my face before I answered,; "No, Mr. Douglas, no problems."  As I tucked in my tail and headed back to my bunk. 

Paul could be a hard, hard man to be around and a little over a month later when I was asked to be an R.A., he verbally beat me into the form of an R.A. that I would need to be to deal with some of these men.  And it was really tough sometimes and I had to eat much crow and bite my tongue nearly off in the process.  But because of Paul, I got armored and was able to move through critical situation after verbally violent confrontations with deliberate ease.

And the reason above all others that I was able to survive in the R.A.'s office was because Paul showed me how to genuinely care for these me and Grace House.  Paul, under the gruff exterior loved these men with all his heart and soul.  He gave and sacrificed and spent his personal money to keep up the place and her residents.  Paul advised, counseled, cajoled and crushed with equal amounts of care and respect.  He never called someone a "Rot Gut Mother..." without giving a man a chance to prove himself to be better than that.  He never came down hard with out throwing a life preserver behind himself to tow a man back to shore.

I remember during my first week, Paul was talking to a young man (in his early 20's) about how everyone was proud of how he was coming along, making real progress in school.  And no more than a half hour after Paul’s pep talk, this young man got into a verbally vicious confrontation with the Case Manager and the young man was almost escorted off property by the police.  I was there to see these two incidents and the one that followed.  When Paul was told about the young man, he almost broke down in tears...I mean I literally watched this steam engine of a man's heart break before my eyes for this one lost sheep.

Paul taught me to be hard and by the book but to always be measured with compassion for the Homeless.  He taught me more than I was ever able to thank him for.  Paul Douglass passed away suddenly in the fall of 2009.  By then he had moved out of Grace House and I was in charge of the R.A.'s office. Paul had told me just before I took over for him "We do things differently, but I like your swagger."  That meant a lot to me...and by the time he left this world I was honored to call him friend.

Rev. Micheal Elliott, in Paul's eulogy said that as he was standing on the beach after Paul’s death, he saw a container ship heading into the horizon with a lone seaman standing on the deck.  As the ship passed from site Michael whispered "Goodbye Paul" to that one, lone seaman.  I wish I had heard Micheal say these words; someone relayed them to me later, because at the time he was saying this I was at the desk at Grace House helping visitors and residents.  Carrying on his work, helping and standing up for these men, the Homeless, became my eulogy to Paul

Of Christ and Dr. King

On Brotherhood...

• Let us develop a kind of dangerous unselfishness. One day a man came to Jesus; and he wanted to raise some questions about some vital matters in life. At points, he wanted to trick Jesus, and show him that he knew a little more than Jesus knew, and through this, throw him off base. Now that question could have easily ended up in a philosophical and theological debate. But Jesus immediately pulled that question from mid-air, and placed it on a dangerous curve between Jerusalem and Jericho. And he talked about a certain man, who fell among thieves. You remember that a Levite and a priest passed by on the other side. They didn't stop to help him. And finally a man of another race came by. He got down from his beast, decided not to be compassionate by proxy. But with him, administered first aid, and helped the man in need. Jesus ended up saying, this was the good man, because he had the capacity to project the "I" into the "thou," and to be concerned about his brother.

• I remember when Mrs. King and I were first in Jerusalem. We rented a car and drove from Jerusalem down to Jericho. And as soon as we got on that road, I said to my wife, "I can see why Jesus used this as a setting for his parable." It's a winding, meandering road. It's really conducive for ambushing. You start out in Jerusalem, which is about 1200 miles, or rather 1200 feet above sea level. And by the time you get down to Jericho, fifteen or twenty minutes later, you're about 2200 feet below sea level. That's a dangerous road. In the day of Jesus it came to be known as the "Bloody Pass." And you know, it's possible that the priest and the Levite looked over that man on the ground and wondered if the robbers were still around. Or it's possible that they felt that the man on the ground was merely faking. And he was acting like he had been robbed and hurt, in order to seize them over there, lure them there for quick and easy seizure. And so the first question that the Levite asked was, "If I stop to help this man, what will happen to me?" But then the Good Samaritan came by. And he reversed the question: "If I do not stop to help this man, what will happen to him?".

• Let us rise up tonight with a greater readiness. Let us stand with a greater determination. And let us move on in these powerful days, these days of challenge to make America what it ought to be. We have an opportunity to make America a better nation

Moral Relativity (first posted April 27, 2010)

This has become such a popular notion for the last generation, moral relativity. The mantra is "Live and let Live", or "do whatever you want as long as it doesn't hurt anyone"...sounds fine, sounds fair, right?

Wiki states (and you can look it up in other more credible sources if you so choose) that;

Moral relativism may be any of several descriptive, meta-ethical, or normative positions regarding the differences in moral or ethical judgments between different people and cultures:

• Descriptive relativism is merely the positive or descriptive position that there exist, in fact, fundamental disagreements about the right course of action even when the same facts obtain and the same consequences seem likely to arise.

• Meta-ethical relativism, on the other hand, is the semantic and epistemic position that all moral judgments have their origins either in societal or in individual standards, and that no single objective standard exists by which one can assess the truth of a moral proposition.

• Normative relativism, further still, is the prescriptive or normative position that as there is no universal moral standard by which to judge others, we ought to tolerate the behavior of others even when it runs counter to our personal or cultural moral standards.

No universal moral standard...no blacks and whites only grays...who has the RIGHT to tell any one what is good or bad, right or wrong?

Several philosophers have expounded theories for thousands of years about the cons to universal or absolute morality, most notably would probably be Nietzsche. Nietzsche supposes that morality (especially Christian morality called by him "the most fatal kind of self-presumption ever") came from the subjugation of the weak by the strong and thus imposing their will on them*. Nietzsche theorized that the strong were much like nature's 'survival of the fittest' fact. The bird of prey or the lion i.e. "the blond beast” must not be held accountable for their actions of preying on weaker species under the auspices of 'good and 'evil'. In Nietzsche's philosophy domination, appropriation and injury to the weak (are) not universally objectionable

Nietzsche also criticizes "unegoistic morality" and demands that "Moralities must first of all be forced to bow before order of rank**. Nietzsche states that "Morality is... today ('s) herd-animal morality" and then firmly states that "what compels us to assume there exists any essential antithesis between 'true' and 'false'?"

One's philosophy works well for a person to suppose, but ‘the proof of the pudding is in the eating’. Communism as a philosophy appears the most altruistic and viable, yet in practice it is a horror. So, in retrospect of the last 3 decades how has moral relativism played out?

Society appears to be lurching headlong into an abyss. Murders, incest, rape, drug abuse, child abuse, spousal abuse, muggings, white collar crime, graft, greed and the list goes on have exploded over the last 30 years. Setting one's own moral compass, without the reliance on a universal moral compass has turned out to be a tragic error in judgment. Now reports are that slavery has reasserted itself upon the world stage and has now outpaced illegal gun sales in ill-gotten profits and is threatening to pass even the illegal drug trade very soon.

I am not suggesting forcing people to comply with my or the Bible's version of morality (I might strongly suggest Christianity for more reasons than are listed here), what I am suggesting is that without having a moral (personal) or ethical (societal) focus, we all (society in general) have suffered greatly.

Ask yourself, is child molestation okay...is rape is slavery? What makes you feel as you do? And if you feel that they are wrong, what makes you feel that way?

The Confederacy felt that slavery was not only right but also morally sound. Nambla feels that there should be no restrictions on the age that a child should have sex with an adult. What makes any feel (or have felt) that these 'problems' were wrong universally and needed to be mandated and/or abolished. Fascism is wrong...why? Murder is wrong, isn't it? Unless it's self defense or abortion or killing in wartime...perhaps it's a number thing...killing one is OK, killing 6 million is not. Where is the line drawn and should we leave it in an individual’s hands to decide where to draw that line regardless of the effect on society?

Christ stated "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you', and Christ was not the only one to espouse this type of doctrine. Buddhist adhere to SILA or the overall principles of moral behavior, Hinduism (in many of its forms) is directed by KARMA, which is the moral law of cause and effect. And the list goes on. Religion, outside of one's personal perception of it, has done well to keep society (in various cultures worldwide) from anarchy and flux.

Are there blacks and whites as far as how we should set morality and ethics? I believe that the obvious answer needs to be...Look out side your window and tell me how life looks now living in the 'gray areas'.
My opinion after my research is that moral relativity is a great idea that causes incredible damage when put into practical use. I live at the end of the line of what happens to society when people take theoretics and paint them across real people with real problems.

MUCH LOVE

*Master-slave morality is a central theme of Friedrich Nietzsche's works, in particular the first essay of On the Genealogy of Morality. Nietzsche argued that there were two fundamental types of morality: 'Master morality' and 'slave morality'. Master morality weighs actions on a scale of good or bad consequences unlike slave morality which weighs actions on a scale of good or evil intentions. What Nietzsche meant by 'morality' deviates from common understanding of this term. For Nietzsche, a particular morality is inseparable from the formation of a particular culture. This means that its language, codes and practices, narratives, and institutions are informed by the struggle between these two types of moral valuation. For Nietzsche, master-slave morality provides the basis of all exegesis of Western thought.

**In sociology it is seen as the most visible element of a power network, which itself usually organizes many social networks. The entire network has social capital which is mobilized in response to the orders that move through the hierarchy - and closely controlled. This leads to the phrase command and control.

Shocking!

http://www.thedailyshow.com/watch/tue-january-25-2011/indianapolis-homeless-talent-show

I am offended down to the depths of my very soul.  The Homeless are now, apparently, the new Minstrels of today's society.

Thank you Jon Stewart...I am actually speechless right now.  I will talk to you all tomorrow.

The Rain

"Let the righteous strike me;
It shall be a kindness.
And let him rebuke me;
It shall be as excellent oil;
Let my head not refuse it. " - Psalm 141:5
...
"Whoever loves discipline loves knowledge, but he who hates correction is stupid." - Proverbs 12:1
...

I have to own up to some pretty awful mistakes that I have committed.  Mistakes that have left many hurt because of my immaturity and wanton selfishness.  Right now, in this particular stage of my life, I am finding that I not only have to look hard at my past actions and short comings but suffer through the rebuke of others for what I have done. 

And Lord, it does hurt...I suppose true self examination is always a painful experience to some degree. 

When you cause hurt to others and really try to seek Wisdom in how you can make amends it becomes a mountain IN the mountain that you were already climbing for discovery/recovery of self.  Because the secret in this is, you may never reach where you need to go without the clear and uncompromising eye of self examination fixed on you.  You may never get where you are going until you attempt to fix the damage that you may have caused others on your journey. You might not even be able to move forward until you go back to make things as right as you can.

Today I had to walk through the rain to get back home.  The rain was torrential at times and my coat and rain hat utterly failed me.  But I had to keep going, because home is where warm clothes are and where showers and food are.  It would have been irresponsible and downright foolish of me to stand in the rain, cursing it, complaining that this trip would have been easier on a sunny day.  We bring a lot of the rain into our own lives...we seed to clouds of deceit, anger, pain, wanton selfishness, and having our priorities out of whack...accept the rain, know that it is part of the process of bringing to mind those who need you to heal them...and maybe look at the rain as an opportunity to cleanse yourself of your past in error.

Do you understand?  You have to be able to own up to the messes that you have made in this life to be free of them and their consequences.  Someway you will have to come to grips with the past and accept, without conceit or anger or self righteous upset, the absolute terror you may have made someone else's life.  Not only is this necessary, but it probably is the path that your life was SUPPOSED to take anyway.  Helping someone recover from the pain you caused them is more about the one who caused the pain than the one who is in pain.  When you cause intentional pain, you may hurt the other person physically, emotionally, mentally, sexually but you also murder a part of your own soul, your own humanity. You see, God worked that detour into your path and made it right for you to go back and help heal those you’ve hurt so you could be whole and complete at the end of your journey. 

That is, if you can stand the rain...
...

"An unexamined life is not worth living."  Socrates

The Little Drummer Boy

 

There are times when I feel so utterly useless.  Times when I wish I had the money and where-with-all to do the things I need to do...that I want to do. 

I want to drive my own car, the wind cutting through one window to cool my face and flowing through another.  I want to just be able to go when and I where I want when I want, beholden to no one.  I want to drive fast over highways and country roads.  I want to smell the gas fumes as I fill up my car and feel the glow inside that that knowledge brings me.  I want to go to the store and antique shops and truck stops and art supply stores and Home Depot just to get out of my car, go inside then come out clicking my alarm button so everyone near will know "that's right, this is my car!"

I need a house of my own.  To laze around-Saturday afternoons, dinner parties, bathtub, mowing the lawn and waking up in my own bed not made of a cot cushion.  My snores the only snores echoing in my bedroom, waking up and going to the bathroom with no worries about 30 other men stinking up the joint or me getting Athlete's foot every other month from their poor hygiene.  A place where my family could come and visit AND STAY! Wake up when I want, go to bed when I want, watch what I want on my T.V. Closing and locking my doors so I can be at peace in my sanctuary.

I want to have my own money...for real money.  To afford to live and give...shoot I would give most of it away. I just want to afford to go when I am needed and help those who need help without reservation.  To build up the Church and people of God.  Take a bunch of Homeless kids to Toys R Us before Christmas and tell them to fill their carts and not have to worry about what the price tags says.  To provide nice things for my family and friends and to smile when they open gifts with out the worry of having more month than money.  J.C. Penny was reported to live on 10% of his income and gave the other 90% away...I want that life!

I want to strike those who hurt my brothers and sisters with the words and seething rage of a Samuel L. Jackson's Jules in "Pulp Fiction", some Ezekiel 25:17 heat.  Those who look at us with contempt, fill their bellies with our food, wipe there mouths with our important papers and laugh at our impotence.  Those who are supposed to care for us that demoralize and kick us while we are down...who hurt us.  I want to rage against you!  I want to stand in the gap and tear your house down brick by brick until you are standing there exposed for who and what you are.  Your treachery leaving you naked so that our children will never feel ashamed by anything you do or say to them ever again.

I want to love a woman, fully and completely.  Provide for her and our family.  Wake up next to her and just be quiet, smiling at the gift that God has blessed me with.  And then watch as she opens her eyes and smiles at me...free of worry and care...knowing she has security, that she is safe with me.  I want her to trust me with her heart as I will trust her with mine, complete and unconditional, unconditional love.  I will need her to be subject to only One before me, and here on this planet the two of us, up down or sideways, will be as one.

(Why am I hearing Tevye singing "If I were a Rich Man"?)

But, that is not the life I have...I will still give of my lack, and love in my want.  Hoping and praying that I am remembered...Oh God, please remember me for the good.

Balancing

Balancing what you see vs. the real me, your perception against reality.  You have an idea in your head as to what Homelessness looks like...and I don't look like that, don't smell, like that, don't talk like that...but I am that.  There is always a fine, delicate line between exposing the truth of my situation against someone wanting to push me into a box of "their own personal truths" (ludicrous idea...Truth has nothing to do with what you personally think and believe.  Truth is immutable.).  I can refuse to be stigmatized, but that doesn't change the fact that there are many who feel a certain way about the Homeless (many times in spite of the facts!) and that is that.  I suppose that is one of the reasons God put me here, to challenge those stereotypes.  LOL, God has been using me and my family to smash stereotypes ever since I can remember, just preparation I suppose (no coincidences in life, people).

What helps me in being able to stand boldly in front of you all and proclaim that "I am Homeless" stems from the fact that I have purpose in this situation.  I needed the humility that this situation brought, the discipline that I am learning, and the steadfastness of purpose.  But most of all, I have learned (and am learning) to love God the right way, by unconditionally loving His children.  Everyday there is help to be given, tempers to be calmed and hope to be distributed.  Do you know what it is like to help a grown man finally look at his situation differently?  To see him give himself another chance, to learn to like others and himself for maybe the first time in life?  Like helping with the Homeless meal in Forsythe Park on Sunday or just sitting back and letting someone finally take off their heavy burdens and get a little rest by just LISTENING...these are good things.  This is what Love should look like. 

I am not tooting my own horn here; it's just that...I get it now.  I used to feel sympathy for the Homeless, pass on a few bucks... even offered a guy a pair of my shoes once.  But that is not living with that man, talking to him, praying for him...and then feeling the Rage and Indignation build inside you (But always, ALWAYS tempered by LOVE) until you are moved to act to help these brothers and sisters, my brothers and sisters, up and out of the mire - even if it means you have to stay in the mire a little while longer.

Martin Luther King, sir, I get it.  Mother Theresa, ma'am I get it, Nelson Mandela, Gandhi, Harriett Tubman...I see.  Don't you see, dear reader, some things are just more important than the outward trappings, the material, and the OBVIOUS.  Sometimes you are compelled to ride a wave that, by its nature, towers over your own personal circumstances.  You may look at me as trapped where I am...but honestly, I have never felt more FREE! 

You may think whatever you will from here on out...I am doing the work that feels like the breath of life filling my soul and I sleep...satisfied.  I am sold out to this purpose.

So here we are, balancing...

…and I would gladly perform this balancing act till I can't stand anymore.

Prison Mentality

My friend Samuel has a ministry that feeds the Homeless in Forsythe Park here in Savannah every Sunday at 1pm.  Food is donated and brought in, The Word of God is preached and then folks eat and receive clothing, blankets, bread etc.  It is one of the noblest un-organizations here in Savannah and there is a real drive amongst the volunteers to ask for nothing and give abundantly. I chip in and help praying with and talking to individuals that are hurting and struggling with their circumstances.  And it is one of the most rewarding experiences that I can think of to spend a couple of hours doing.

Of course one of Samuel's favorite expressions is; "We feed the needy and the greedy."  Even in this environment, where folks are breaking bread sitting on the ground - like when Jesus fed the 5,000 (our numbers are slightly smaller than that; usually 150 - 300 folks), there are those who try to get over on you.

Sadly, many of you have run into the Homeless person who is only interested in running game on you.  Ask for a dollar that somehow morphs into $5 - $10 whatever they can get out of you.  There is no privilege in Homelessness, but if there were these characters would be abusing it.

This brings me to today’s topic, necessarily in the Homeless Shelter you are going to run into people who have had a long history of incarceration behind them.  Many of these folks have a difficult time trying to adjust to this life outside (even the "outside" that the Shelter provides) the penal system, so many of them try to bend the shelter to their will (mentality).  It never works, at least not here at Grace House, because there are systems in place to check that mentality.  Yet it invariably causes no end of problems here.

There are gentlemen here today who try to drive division between the R.A.s, subtly (and sometimes not too subtly) threaten the other residents, form cliques and try to charm the pants off of Case Management.  These men are hardened by the system, yet they have amazing qualities about them.  They are generally charming and charismatic, natural born leaders in a sort of conniving and dangerous way.  Divide and conquer is their rule of law and I have been burnt several times by trying to trust and even help these individuals. 

But as I said earlier Grace House is not set up to be bent to the will of a few or one.  The architect behind this institution must have known the type of men that we would be dealing with and put safeguards in place to protect those who are in need...both the other residents and those who have that prison mentality.

One of the things that I am most proud of about this place is that everyone is given and can take the opportunity to change.  Most of these individuals with this mentality CAN change, if they first give themselves a chance to.  The sad thing is, is often, they will implode in here.  You see the signs and symptoms; those they used to hang around with  are pushed away, they become less stable- the lines blur - who should I be schmoozing, who should I take down, who are my allies and can I even trust them, and the anger becomes unchecked.  This is the most critical time in the process, standing on the precipice of your own destruction...what will you do? Will you jump, as you have done so often...or will you finally lay all that internal junk aside and decide that for once, let's take the road I never traveled - the road these people have been trying to get me to walk on for a minute-and see what happens? 

Most, sadly, don't change and end up in the wind...and Savannah is a deadly place to be a hustler...because there is always someone younger, angrier and hungrier than you just around the corner. But I am proud to say that I have also seen many success stories come and go from Grace House, a young man who battled back to get his GED and is studying to pass the college boards, another brother who is working a job and taking classes at Savannah State to become a construction contractor and there are more.  They are adapting and living and THRIVING!  These few, these ...these WINNERS make the burns from others worth while.

Transportation

There are many "Catch-22's" when you are Homeless.  The system is in place to help you, yet the entire purpose behind the system is to get you off of its roles as quickly as possible. 

One of the requirements of most Homeless Shelters in the Savannah area are that you get a job as soon as you can so you can prove that you are getting to a place where you don't need the shelter.  It is an understandable and even noble goal.  One that most residents and shelter organization feel is goal number one to help the resident not only earn their own money, but for the psychological uplift that work brings to a person.  Again, a most noble goal.

One of the problems in achieving this goal is that here in Savannah most of the entry level and blue collar jobs available are located outside the city limits.  Which brings up one of the problems with this goal, making money is easy to do; finding a sustainable source of income is not so easy.  Sure, getting a temp job or a job in construction or retail are fairly easy, except that come October most of these jobs dry up and don't  come back until spring.  Being a port city, Savannah has quite a few warehouse and factory jobs that are available to individuals for long term assignments (I say assignments because most of these jobs are through employment agencies.).  The problem is, again, that most of these jobs are located outside of the city limits.

Transportation is a HUGE issue with the Homeless.  The need to be able to get back and forth to work or school (many Homeless try to use this time to better themselves) or to get to the store is often a daily project in and of itself.  Someone is always looking to the few that have their own transportation to pitch and help the many who do not, trading gas money and favors for rides.  But many miss appointments or end up using bikes and their feet to traverse sometimes 7 miles to work each day.

The solution would be simple.  Public Transportation providing shelters with a block of monthly passes that the shelters can cycle through their populace until folks can afford to buy their own passes.  Also, more and extended bus loops to areas that have the jobs from Savannah proper.  But in these uncharitable economic times CAT (Chatham Area Transit) does not seem want to put their feet forward to extend these options to the Homeless because of the economic burden it will put on their bottom line.

 I understand., many times decisions come down to money and the ability to pay...which is why banks got the lion's share of stimulus money and job creation and small business got little...even though the people who go through these programs and get jobs would put the money they earned right back into the economy stimulating the economy and shoring up the Nation's financial foundation...digressing again.  Or maybe I'm not.  I want the city to see, to realize that addressing this small need in the Homeless community goes leaps and bounds toward thinning out the ranks of those who are Homeless.  Making it possible for a fella to get to a job makes getting and holding a job possible.  The little bit of up front money used to offer say 10 tickets a shelter per month would come back 1,000 times over in the money poured back into the economy by a working populace.

I'm just putting that out there...please comment and let me know what you think.

Ted Williams

I have waited to comment on the phenomenon of Ted Williams as reality got sorted out from the teeter-totter of sudden success.  Mr. Williams is now enrolled in a substance abuse treatment program because he used.  I listened to many people in the street comment and shake their head about what had happened.  I listened to many in the shelter and their response was "I hope he will be Ok..." I listened and said little about it until now.

Mr. Williams suffered for years out on the streets, a terrible life under the best of circumstances.  No one asks to be Homeless, not FOR REAL Homelessness (some kids do like to 'experience' the Hobo lifestyle...toddling down the road leading a care free life isn't quite the same as the pain and humiliation of having no place to call home)  So when the sun shone on his predicament...we all shared a little hope in that.  It's like someone at your job winning the LOTTO or someone finding true love … someone who has been single longer than you...it gives hope.

And that is what I still feel about Ted Williams and pray to impart to every Homeless person that I meet... I’m sorry, to Everyone I meet.

And I don't want this to come across like some Televangelist spouting some awful success doctrine "Keep on pressing on and someday someone will snatch you out of your situation and set you on the mountain top like TED WILLIAMS!"  I trust God for everything and still know that sometimes, there are reasons that we are down...sometimes reasons way beyond our abilities to change them (see my earlier post on Ability vs. Capability).

But Homelessness does not define us and hope should be IN us, not created by our circumstances.  Should a person hold on to hope when it looks like (to everyone else’s eyes) that there is no hope to hold on to?  Yes and HOLD ON.  Hope is more than this thing or that thing, larger than anything you can touch or stake a claim to in the natural...it is birthed into your spirit.  Not as naive as rose-colored-glasses but it does change your outlook.  Mr. Williams inspired us for what happened to him, but the fresh clean air of hope that we breathed into our starving lungs didn't get rudely exhaled (well, not from all of us) when things went south for Mr. Williams.  For various reasons, some of us just refused to exhale. 

And I would advise that to you as well, dear reader, when ever you can, whenever anyone achieves something that inspires you...Hold that breath!  Because your circumstances might flip on you or you may be torn by this life...or maybe you just get tired of trying so hard for so long.  That held-onto hope might just sustain you until you recover.

God bless you Mr. Williams, get better and get better at getting better...and, please, never let go of your Hope!

Poem "The Question Mark of Cain"

“The Question Mark of Cain”

I’m not exactly sure how this works

Grieving I've  Grieved You

Last time I looked it was me that lost

But it seems my loss

Has inconvenienced you

I am bewildered by how this is

Hating myself you hate me

My face, my body, my breath is abhorrent

You detest my stink

My being & the thought of me

I’m unsure of how again to be sure

And in my confusion you are certain

That I and everything that has to do with me

Isn’t worth a moment

An inkling

The fleck of paint on the caboose

Of the thought train in your mind

And victimized

I feel I should apologize

© 2010  S.LaDon Ware

The Answer to the Question

Should Homelessness be criminalized?  Perhaps the question is stated wrongly...Why are the Homeless being treated as criminals? That may have been the better question.  The National Coalition for the Homeless reports that many cities across America have turned to the criminal justice system to "handle the Homeless problem” even as the economy has worsened and foreclosures were at an all time high. 

In a joint paper published by The National Coalition for the Homeless (NCH) and the National Law Center on Homelessness & Poverty (NLCHP)  (June 2009) reported that over the last 25 years cities have made it illegal for the Homeless to "perform life-sustaining activities in public".  Accordingly, the report states that the "Criminalization Measures" some cities have taken have come in many forms, such as;

• Legislation that makes it illegal to sleep, sit, or store personal belongings in public spaces
• Selective enforcement of neutral laws, such as loitering or  open container against the Homeless.
• Sweeps of city areas where the Homeless are living to drive them out of that area (resulting in the destruction of personal property and the loss of important papers and medication)
• Laws punishing people for begging or panhandling in order to move poor or Homeless persons out of a city or downtown area. 

(I have sat in a meeting of local Downtown Area business leaders and let me tell you, the pendulum does not swing toward compassion on the subject of the Homeless.  In Savannah, the look and smell of the Homeless irritates business to no end, especially in a city that derives a substantial part of its income from the tourist market.  They turned their collective eyes to law enforcement to mitigate the "problem' of the Homeless.)

Again, according to the report, "city ordinances frequently serve as a prominent tool to criminalize homelessness." of the 235 cities surveyed for this report;

• 33% prohibit "camping" in particular places in the city and 17% have city wide prohibitions on "camping" (That generally means a Homeless person sleeping where people MIGHT see them either with a tent and gear or not)
• 30% prohibit sitting/lying in certain public places
• 47% prohibit loitering in particular public areas and 19% prohibit loitering city wide.
• 47% prohibit begging in particular public places; 49% prohibit aggressive panhandling and 23% have citywide prohibitions on begging.

The report states that "the trend seems to be growing" to criminalize Homelessness.  Of the 224 cities surveyed for their report spotted this trend from 2006 to 2009;

• A 7% increase in laws prohibiting "camping" in particular public places
• An 11% increase in laws prohibiting loitering in particular public areas
• A 6% increase in laws prohibiting begging in particular public places, a 5% increase in laws prohibiting aggressive panhandling.

The organizations also spotted a disturbing trend in increased city efforts to limit providers who serve food to the Homeless by placing restrictions on these providers as an indirect attack on the Homeless.

And....drum roll...the MEANEST CITIES TO THE HOMELESS (The NCH & NLCHP states this as their criteria for determining these cites; "The top 10 Meanest Cities have been chosen based on the number of anti-homeless laws in a city has, the enforcement of those laws and severity of penalties related to them, as well as the general political climate toward homeless people, local advocate support for Meanest City designation, history of homeless criminalization measures, and the existence of pending or recently enacted criminalization legislation. Although several of the report’s top 10 Meanest Cities have made efforts to address homelessness in their communities, the punitive practices highlighted in the report impede progress toward solving the problem.")

1. Los Angeles, CA
2. St. Petersburg, FL
3. Orlando, FL
4. Atlanta, GA
5. Gainesville, FL
6. Kalamazoo, MI
7. San Francisco, CA
8. Honolulu, HI
9. Bradenton, FL
10. Berkeley, CA

Do You SEE who is at Number 6?  That is my home town...Kalamazoo, Michigan!!!!!!  I have never been least proud of my birthplace...EVER!

(This report is available at; http://www.nationalhomeless.org/factsheets/criminalization.html )

So why are the Homeless being treated as criminals?  Economic strain on resources, undesirable presence that brings down profits, or perhaps ....they look and smell bad and they make our whole city look and smell bad? ! ???  Anyone?  Is this why you treat your brother so disrespectfully, so coldly without the compassion that you would treat a stray dog?  "But dogs can't help it, people need to pull themselves up by their own bootstraps, stop begging and start contributing to society!"  Wow...that almost sounds like a valid point...you say it all forceful like that..."Own BOOTSTRAPS harrumph, harrumph!"   
(Please, read this article when you think that way http://www.squidoo.com/why-homeless-people-dont-just-get-a-job  (and we will dive into this subject at a later date.) )

Can a person pay the rent, feed the kids, get transportation and save for the unexpected on a dishwasher's salary...salary, lol...let's just say pay.  A parolee just coming out of prison my be able to get a job as a dishwasher.  Let's say ...$7.50 an hour...and say 38 hours a week (you know he will not get any overtime)  less taxes...that makes take home, oh roughly $250.00 a week - $500.00 every pay period...1 bedroom in Savannah, average $600.00 a month...ok so there goes all the cash for two and 1/2 weeks...then 4 kids, a wife, food, clothing, bus (because let's face it there is no car here) and even if the wife is working (same amount) what happens next if the little ones get the flu and need to stay home a week...or someone loses their job, or the business folds or endless possibilities that we have seen played out on live T.V the last two years, what happens then?  Does this family decide "well we can't pay the rent so let's all put on our domino masks ‘cause being homeless makes us criminals”? 

So what say you to the Answer?

Ex 23:3, Ex 23:6, Lev 19:15, Psalms 72:4 - consequences   Thanks Fay for the scriptures!

Criminalizing Homelessness

http://articles.ocregister.com/2008-12-23/cities/24735941_1_homeless-population-homeless-people-police-officers

http://uspoverty.change.org/blog/view/police_shoot_and_kill_homeless_man_again

http://theonlinecitizen.com/2010/01/raiding-the-homeless-in-the-middle-of-the-night/

http://eastcountymagazine.org/node/2290

http://slohomeless.wordpress.com/2010/09/20/what-does-criminalizing-homelessness-accomplish/

http://uspoverty.change.org/blog/category/criminalization_of_the_homeless

http://www.nationalhomeless.org/factsheets/criminalization.html
http://peopleproject.wordpress.com/2010/12/25/savannah-georgia-says-it-blatant/

A Question For you....

Tonight I will put forth what the facts are here in the Savannah area and beyond in regards to "Should  the Homeless be treated as Criminals?"   ... But first, I want to give any and everybody a chance to respond to this question with your insight, observations, facts, reasonings and opinions...What do you think, dear reader..."Should  the Homeless be treated as Criminals?"

My People Perish...

Sometimes I wake up afraid of my own arrogance.  I believe that I can do...anything, I always have...but my current situation shows that maybe, just maybe I am wrong. 

It is easy to be "invincible" in this world, autonomous of other people and their situations...until life decides to bring the perfect storm down on you.  And when you are cast off and cast away, bobbing up and down in the waves you quickly realize that, to this world, you are not even tangible.  You are sea foam at best, rudely deposited on the shore, baked by the sun until you are no more.  But that is despair talking - the thought that encourages you to give up.

The truth lies somewhere in the middle, doesn’t it.  You will never be invincible, but you can sure be immortal.  You can do anything, everything...you just need others to help you do it.  And coercion and hate and brutality can only take you as far as the cliff where you and your ideas will be found smashed to bits at its base. 

But Love...ahh what love can do...

The Reverend Doctor Martin Luther King, Jr. said; "Somewhere somebody must have some sense. Men must see that force begets force, hate begets hate, toughness begets toughness. And it is all a descending spiral, ultimately ending in destruction for all and everybody. Somebody must have sense enough and morality enough to cut off the chain of hate and the chain of evil in the universe. And you do that by love."

I am the product of his lost legacy...but that is not all I am.  I am also the promise of finding again his legacy.  Dr. King's legacy was for African Americans, the poor, Disenfranchised Caucasian Americans who can't find a job, Latino Americans stuck in migrant work who do not 'habla Ingles', Asian Americans stifled creatively, Muslim Americans afraid to pray openly, Middle Class Americans afraid to look and Ghetto kids who have seen too much.

Ohh what Love could do...

Dr. King also said; ”People fail to get along because they fear each other; they fear each other because they don't know each other; they don't know each other because they have not communicated with each other."

If we could all have a few moments of each others time.  I believe that if we really shared with each other, broke bread together, and camped next to one another the differences that force us apart would melt away like pouring water on the Wicked Witch.    If we could only talk, really talk to one another, without prejudices and agendas...oh, what we could do.

We could be Heroes!  We could change the world...like the blessed community that was the 1st century Church or America after bloody Revolution...or the way we were on 9/12/2001.  This is one of the eye-opening lessons that Homelessness has gifted me.  We are really and truly all the same.  You don't have to let the color of a persons' skin, or accent, or religious preference stop you from calling that man or woman My Brother and Sister.  We can be the examples, the exemplars to the Dream of Dr. King...we just have to remember the dream and embrace it.

But we need to do something soon.  You see our children are been ground up in a mill that devalues them, hunts them, hurts them then discards them.  I am a by-product of this mill, as is every Homeless man, woman and child.  And they will continue to be vast wastelands of wasted peoples RIGHT HERE IN AMERICA if we don't sit down and remember the Dream and live in it, and then teach our kids to live in that promise as well and teach their kids and so on and so on...

The Dream is Love itself.  But as Langston Hughes wrote; "what happens to a dream deferred?"...What happens to it America?  Does it look like drive by shootings and crack babies?  Meth zombies and rampant greed?  Younger and younger teens having babies and getting abortions and Gangsta Rap and malaise?  Everyman for himself and all the lonely people, without a place where they belong? Is this what the "dried up like a raisin in the sun"  Dream looks like?

Oh how Love could Heal...

this is the arrogance I wake up with, that I can do anything, everything...because I am Loved and if I spread that Love to you...maybe ...we can be Immortal in some young person's heart...Maybe, we can be heroes.

Like Dr. King...if we can just remember....

Discouragement

There are a few constant companions when it comes to Homelessness; depression, hopelessness, helplessness, rejection, upset, anger and the list goes on. But the nightmare that has been the most frequent returning guest to my particular neighborhood has been discouragement. 

I will begin a project, look for work, try to take care of my legal issues, fix my situation, consider romance...and here comes Old Man Discouragement saddling up to the bar of my hopes and dreams and he shuts the place down.  I have been a poor fighter against discouragement, mismatched.   I have always felt as if, over time, one leg after another has been kicked out of the seat that I have been sitting on that leaves me in this place...A Homeless Shelter...looking up to the pinprick of light that is where I would love to be, have to get to.  But the walls are wet and muddy and I can't get purchase and each time I begin to climb I already feel as if it is inevitable that I will slide down and fall to the floor.   So when I do, it is maddening...but not shocking.

And here am I, 43 years OLD and nothing to use to prop me up...nothing tangible that is, nothing that this world seems to value.  I mean, what do I have to offer an employer, society, a woman?  I am actively pursuing being a better person?  God loves me?  No home, no car, no money...not even a security blanket to line a nest with...wow that is a bummer!

But, I don't forget that pinprick of light. 

Someone has said that when you wake up in the morning you should look at all the positive things in your life, then take a moment and think if things had not gone that positive way for you...then snatch your mind back to your reality...things look better right? 

Well, I try to stay in that moment all the time...The Soma of hope, perhaps.  But, I have to get up in the morning, despite discouragement.  I have to get on with sifting through the pieces of my life, patiently trying to rebuild the mosaic that is me, despite setbacks and challenges.  And beyond frustration and obstacles and nastiness I still have to have hope.  That pin prick is why I am alive and most important it is the reason that I will be alive tomorrow.  That pinprick is my faith in God, and when earthquakes come and shake everything else in my life, that light remains...and I am overwhelmed by it.  Because at the end of the day I am more than a car or a house or material things, and maybe I needed to be in this hole to discover it.  So, I can be left lonely and never be alone, be tossed by the winds and waves of this life and still keep that glimmer of hope.  I can be despised and ridiculed and left on my dry dung heap of an existence and still believe.  Because, my dear friend, life is more than me...discouragement can come and come and come again but he can never stay.  My hope is built on bigger stuff than things that will turn to dust in a little while.  I hope yours is too...

Burning Bridges ~ Ability vs. Capability

We had gentleman come to the gates today that had left somewhat 'unceremoniously' a few months back.  I had had personal issues with this man while he was staying at Grace House and seeing him at the gate was off putting to say the least.

This ex resident was a pot stirrer.  You see; living in the shelter environment means that you have to, consciously, choose to get along everyday.  What made you upset, what made you angry, what made you down right evil in the world you can't, can't, can't indulge those passions here.  Those who do generally get a wakeup call and either become a part of the community or end up expelling themselves from this community.  At Grace House you become in danger of receiving a non-compliance write up for not following the rules, garner 5 non compliances and you just might be heading out the door.

Well this individual was Houdini; he had to have had 10 non-compliances written by the R.A. staff on him and several grievances written by the other residents.  And, for some reason, much to the frustration of the residents of Grace House, this man stuck around like a bad penny.  He had hygiene issues, would bring food into the dorm area (which is a huge problem since we work diligently to keep down the bugs in the shelter, especially where people sleep and keep their clothes), would cook raw food in the microwave...I mean raw meat here, and was generally inconsiderate of everyone else's thoughts and feelings.  But as I said earlier, his main issue was that he liked to stir the pot.  Anything and everything was an excuse for an argument (and for such a small man, his voice carried over EVERYONE else's).  He was a verbal fighter and when he wasn't fighting he instigated arguments between others (they call that 'throwing salt' here in South).  I remember a particularly nasty row that he started between a fellow resident and me that almost led to the police being called.  And when things were just about cooled down- here come pot stirrer with a big ole stirring spoon setting tempers ablaze again.  To say that the R.A. staff went after him after this would not be accurate, but we gave him enough rope and sure enough within a week he was gone.

I said all of that to point out the strangest fact in the Shelter environment.  Those who have the most to lose tend to be the biggest problems.  Beyond drugs and alcohol, this contentious spirit that many have when they come to the shelter will get you put out faster than a wet dog in a clean kitchen.  Honestly, we all (ALL OF US) have to wrestle with personal demons...but those who are compelled to sabotage the most stable and loving relationships everywhere they go - as if they cannot stop themselves- have always been curious to me.  And again, beyond the toll of drug or alcohol addiction in many instances, these guys are in full control of their mental faculties...why destroy everything in your wake...leave nothing but smoldering ash?

My good friend & Life Transitions Expert, Ms. Rachel Milano, has helped me to piece this puzzle together. 

There is a joke where a man is sitting on his porch when the flood is coming.  A neighbor drives up in a car and tries to get the man to go with him to safety.  But the man adamantly brushes him aside, stating; "I'll be alright, The Lord is going to save me!"  Well, sometime later,  the flood has covered the full first floor of the man's house and he is seen sitting on the sill of  his second story windows.  A motor boat rumbles by and stops and the man is asked to get into the boat where he will be taken to safety...but again the man rebuffs the rescuers by saying; "I'll be alright, The Lord is going to save me!"  Sometime later the magnitude of the storm has increased tremendously and the man clings for dear life to his roof.  A helicopter fights its way through the storm in a desperate attempt to save the man.  A rope is lowered with a trained rescuer hanging from it just out of arm's length of the man.  Frantically the rescuer begs for the man to take his hand...but sadly, he is rebuffed again and again by the man who screams into the storm; "I'll be alright, The Lord is going to save me!" A mighty gust of wind swirls around the helicopter and they must withdraw.  Of course, the man dies.  So when he arrives in Heaven and stands before the Lord, his expression is pretty sour.  "What is wrong my child?" The Lord asks.  "Well, Lord...I thought, I believed that You would save me from that flood and low and behold You let me die."  The Lord looks at the man incredulously and says; "Son, I sent a car, a boat and a helicopter to save you...what else did you want Me to do?"

You see this joke presumes something that isn't verbalized.  The joke assumes that the man was 'capable' of accepting the help that was given because he had the "ability" to reach out to the help that was given.

The scenario that Rachel used that really opened my eyes was the problem of a woman who had been in an abusive (emotionally, physically and mentally) relationship with a drug addict for more than 20 years.  The woman knew she needed to break free from this relationship but her "capability" to leave the situation was all but destroyed.  She was wed to this man, had kids, had been beaten down and didn't feel herself worthy of anything else and was frozen when she tried to turn the door knob of the door…by the prospect of 'if I don't make it, what will he do to me then..." .  And to throw more salt in her wound, she still clung to the belief that some way, somehow her love could still save this man.  So this sister is probably dealing with past abandonment issues herself (Remember Tina Turner in "What's Love Got to Do With It?"), with years of abuse stacked on that had destroyed her self esteem.  The whole cycle of relationship that she knew was Honeymoon, build up, explosion, pseudo - contrition (if you just didn't do this, you know how angry that makes me...) then Honeymoon (and the Honeymoon doesn’t last so long anymore).

Without real and immediate outside help and support, the fact that this woman has two hands to turn a knob and two legs to walk away seem almost immaterial.  We tell her "Girl, you need to get away from him!"  But how, how does she embrace that rationale?  She cannot grasp that reality; it is not part of her perspective anymore.  She has "ability" to leave but down to the fiber of her soul, her "capability" may just be a shadow if it exists at all.

Sometimes, we all come to mountain that we cannot climb...while others happily mount and overcome the obstacle with ease.  Sometimes our addictions and/or upbringing/experiences render us the abused wife, the man on the roof...or the chronic bridge burner… until nothing is left in us or for us.

This man comes back to Grace House not to cause more trouble but because for a little while, in his heart, this place felt like home.  But the problem is, he is the scorpion trying to cross the river.  He asks the frog to give him a ride and the frog says no, you will sting me.  The scorpion gives the frog his word that he will not.  So they start to cross, and low and behold halfway across the river the scorpion stings and mortally wounds the frog.  The frog, dying, says why did you do that, now we both are doomed.  The scorpion replies just before going under the waves;  I am sorry, I am a scorpion, it is in my nature.

Guarding the Guardians

this will be a short post.

Quis custodiet ipsos custodes? who Guards the Guardsmen? 

For the Homeless, the question is necessary and desperately needed.
Who is making sure that the goods, money and services that you, the Public, give to the shelter system is being allocated for the Homeless? 

We are going to take time to point out what we see as  those who give wholly and generously and those who take and take and take.

We will shine the light on abuse and neglect within the system and endeavor to never deviate from this path until all the needs of the Homeless have been met and society is satisfied.

short post.

The Cold part 2

This just happened just a few hours ago.

 I have a part time job at a tour company here in Savannah.  The last of my drivers was going out the employee entrance to go home tonight after work.  I was at the computer, doing my log, closest to the door she was leaving out of.  It was a very cold night tonight, and she complained about it all the way almost out the door. 

I say almost because as she was leaving she stopped halfway out the door.  I saw her stiffen up and so I got up and went to the door to see what was making her uneasy.  As I came to the door I saw a man, a Homeless man, dressed in casual street clothes asking for a few dollars from my driver.  I interceded and she scrambled out of there fast.  The man then asked me for a few dollars.  I told him I didn't have any money on me (I generally don't carry cash for a few reasons, this being one of them).  He thanked me and started to walk away.  I stopped him by asking if he had a place to sleep tonight, because if he didn't, I told him he could stay the night at Grace House…if he hadn't been doing drugs or drinking.  He said he had been staying at old Savannah City Mission and knew where Inner City was but was unfamiliar with where Grace House was located.  I started to tell him that it was close, just a few blocks away, but he cut me off stating again that if he could just get a little money tonight he might THEN go to Grace House.  What followed then was a pretty inane back and forth about me trying to help him get out of the cold vs. his need to garner some cash tonight. 

So I stopped bantering with him and got real serious.  “Brother”, I said, “whatever it is you are chasing tonight is not worth your life.  The few dollars you make isn't going to keep you from dying if the temperature drops too low.”  And he stopped…stood there for maybe 30 seconds, battling what was going on in his flesh against the common sense of my words.  He then looked up at me and said what I said was right, thanked me for the words and began to shuffle off toward downtown and parts unknown.  And I felt that old familiar heartache of ‘We lost another one’ creep over me.  I shouted behind him, “May God bless you to be O.K. tonight...” then I closed the door.

No epilogue or tidy, prepackaged Hollywood ending here...I just pray he makes it through until the morning.

The Cold...outside and in

What happens to the Homeless when it becomes life-threateningly cold outside? 

Have you ever wondered?

Here in Savannah, there is a standing agreement with the city and shelters that when the temperature drops below 32° F.  those Homeless "in the wind" can come and stay the night. So, of course you would expect that shelters, on these frightfully cold nights would be full up.  And surprisingly, you might be wrong.

The belief that someone would naturally come in from the cold comes from a few miscalculations about the Homeless that I hope to remove from you (I used to hold to these same misunderstanding, until practical experience disabused me of these notions.).  You see, as with any thing, there are rules and stipulations to agreements.  Here at Grace House for instance, we are extremely reluctant to accept anyone in who has been abusing drugs and alcohol that same evening.  The rational is simple, better to lose one than lose all.  Many of our residents are recovering from drug and alcohol abuse and being in close proximity to a person who is actively using can put your sobriety into forfeiture.  This may seem harsh, but as I said earlier better to lose one than lose all.  The word is out about Grace House so many wont even come by on these nights because they know we actively test for drugs and alcohol.

This brings up another assumption...The Homeless are made up of mostly drug addicts and alcoholics.  First, let me say, that if you have ever been to Savannah during St. Patrick's Day you will see that many activities in the evening here swirl around a martini swizzle stick and open cups of Heineken.  It is most easy to fall into the troughs of alcohol abuse here, as many of the Homeless have.  So, yes a pronounced number in the Homeless Community are alcoholics.  The same can be said about drug abuse and the escalating cycle of choice in drugs; marijuana to cocaine to crack or crystal meth then horse (heroin).  Once captured in their clutches drugs and alcohol abuse lead one down a very predictable path that leads to Homelessness (a place many hope will be their bottom).   So many Homeless will choose to stay out "in the wind" letting their alcohol keep them warm (of course alcohol actually does the opposite, robbing the body of heat). Or they stay out swimming in their drug addled delusions... and some will die tonight because of it.  That is a group for sure, part of the 150 - 200 that live on the streets nightly here.

But that was not my course to Homelessness (I will tell this story in a later post) and, of late, drugs and alcohol may be contributing factors to Homelessness but the poor economy has muscled his way to the front row and the head of the line.  The largest percentages of new Homeless are families.  Let me ask you a question, when the rent in Savannah starts around the $500.00/monthly and you have to decide whether rent or food come first on a salary (or two or three) of  $7.50/an hour to feed a family of four which one do you pick? (Big surprise, you can't do either well). 

But I digress; we were talking about shelter from the cold...

As I stated earlier, the largest growing percentage of the Homeless are families.  And here is the craptastic problem that faces Savannah as well as the rest of America...the lack of shelters for Families.  Men's shelters are the most prevalent, followed by shelters for women with children then maybe children alone.  But for a Father, mother and children to find a place is near impossible in Savannah, GA.  And some families...all they have is each other and to sacrifice that, even for warmth, is not a compromise that they CAN make (in my earlier post "Mortality...and the Homeless" I explain how precious the few things we carry from the "Normal" world into the Homeless world are...imagine if that "thing" was your wife or infant child...think about it). 

But Savannah, like many, many cities across America is strapped financially, having to make deep cuts into the social services programs that they already provide.  Who can ask Savannah for a shelter dedicated to the welfare of Homeless families (and single women as well...single women are some of the most vulnerable victims of abuse, robbery, rape and murder in the Homeless world.  They, too, have very few choices for places to stay in Savannah).  No, I would not ask Savannah for it...but I would approach the private sector.  Look around you...there are large, privately owned  buildings around town sitting empty for YEARS, that could be converted to shelter space for the Homeless.  And there are activist within the community that can aid us all in coordination and acquisition of necessary material and manpower...which I can assure you is available in the Savannah community TODAY!  What can we, as Savannians do? Do we need a ballot measure, neighborhood petitions to these private owners...perhaps one of us to just ask a question to see if the spirit of altruism that has come alive in our hearts will leap to theirs? ('Course, you may have to ask the big question first..."Do I want a Homeless Shelter in my neighborhood?")

So when the thermometer dips below the freezing mark, ask yourself; "What can I do to help bring those in from the cold who want to come in?" or...you can just turn over in your warm bed and pull up your comforter and wish for a warmer tomorrow.

Forgotten Me

This is the poem that I wrote and read at the Homeless Memorial Day event.

Forgotten Me

I Am I
Forgotten Me
Standing at the Gates
Of Liberty
Unable to Enter
Unwanted, Unloved
Hopelessly Struggling
Beneath your Cold Thumb

I Am I
Rejected, Unseen
Your Poor Children's Eyes
Need Swift Covering
As I Stand on the
Corner
Sign in My Hand
Crying Compassion
Receiving its Sham

I Am I
The Down & Out
Hope Steady Dying
Time Running Out
From Shelter to Shelter
No Bed to Call Home
Society's Rejected
On My Neck Hangs a Stone

I Am I
You Might Pity Me
But You Never Will Touch
'Cause We're Only Lazy,
The Unwashed, Disgusting
You Offer A Dime
While You Roll Your Eyes
If We Merit That Much
Most Just Look Past & Sigh

I Am I
Am I Still A Man?
My Blood Still Bleeds Red
I Just Need Help to Stand
Fell on Hard Times
Or Did They Fall on Me?
Broken in Heart
My Dreams Are Failing

I Am I
As You Legislate
Tare Down My Poor Tent
And Push Us Away
Vans In A Field
Where My Family Stays
Or Under The Overpass
A Stone For My Head
As You Sneer At Me - A Bother
To The Life You Have Led


I Am I
Yet Your Brother Still
But As You Drive Past Us
To Home & Job that You Trust
You Should Know that Last Month
I Was Driving Past..To..
But For the Sake of God's Grace
Here Now Stands You


And
I Am I...
Forgotten.

S. LaDon Ware (c) Copyright 2010

Noted Individuals that were Homeless

Check this out...Again Homelessness does not define who you are OR what you can accomplish!
http://www.angelfire.com/stars4/lists/homeless.html

Mortality...and the Homeless

I just found out this week that two people that at a time I was very close to died.  Both of them died at the end of last year. 

One was a well respected leader of Zion Temple Apostolic Pentecostal Church out in Denver, Co.  Pastor Robert E. Martin, Sr. was a beloved pastor and "a man after God's own heart".  It may be easy to say, but if you had known Pastor Robert, seen the love and joy that exuded from him and saw the peace he left in his wake you would understand.  He was a beautiful man and I am glad to have been in his flock for a time and his example I still carry with me of patience, perseverance and above all his kindness.

The second was a young man, barely a man, who was killed in one of those freak accidents we all hear of, a jeep jumped the curb and killed him while he stood at the bus stop.  Stefan Fairfax was a young man that was overcoming the obstacles that plague many of the young men in our community. He struggled to give school his full attention while the life he grew up in subjected him to unnecessary pressures that a 17 year old should never have to face.  I met Stefan while we were both living at the Salvation Army and tried to be a friend to him, his big brother Anthony and to his mom, Sandra.  But a homeless shelter is a hard place to live when you are a teenager, especially among 40+ year old men with various mental health, hygiene and social interaction issues.
 
Elder Robert had a full and very productive life, Stefan had not really begun to live life, yet many people have memorialized them both...because they were both cared for. And that is a beautiful thing even in tragedy.

On December 21, 2010 a group of no more than 15 people gathered together to memorialize the 17 or so Homeless people that have died in the Savannah area in the last 3 years.  Many that were there may have had only a passing association with any person on that list.  During the ceremony, when the group of people were asked to say something about any - ANY of the people on that list - no one stood to say anything.   And my heart broke right then and there.  17 people died and no one had anything to say about a single one of them.  They were just part of the system, inconsequential...vanishing people expected to disappear... So when it did happen no one noticed or really cared. 

Funny thing is, a few weeks before this event came near Marvin Heery, another Homeless homeless advocate (http://homelessnessinsavannah.blogspot.com/) was asked to help design this event by the Savannah/Chatham Authority for the Homeless.   Marvin asked me for my input...and we designed an event where those who attended would be asked to bring a sleeping bag, prepared to stay the night at Forsythe Park, making for a small simulation of what a Homeless person "in the wind" goes through nightly.  We also would be raising money for a glass monument commemorating the "Invisible People" (another term for the Homeless) who have passed on.  Not too complicated, but Homeless Authority thought it was too, too something (?) and went with a simple service out on B Road (The Salvation Army's Church location) staged by the Salvation Army.  Very nice, quiet and finished in 20 minutes with not one individual Homeless person recognized.

So, I was on the schedule to read a poem (That I will post at a later date), but before I read , I had to tell about a Homeless man that I knew who had passed away in the fall, Kenny Stewart. 

Kenny was a smallish, white man in his mid 40's and passerby's might call him a "Redneck".  Kenny was distinct for a few reasons one of which being the hat he always wore with the original Georgia flag emblazoned across the front...that's right, the one with the Confederate Flag still on it.  Sure, this is the South, and you don't have to travel many miles without seeing the 'Stars & Bars' hanging off someone's porch.  But here in the shelter that is probably 50 - 75% African American at any given time, this hat issue began to stir the pot.  When the other residents came to me (in my capacity as head Resident Assistant at the time) with cries of racism and insensitivity, I pulled Mr. Stewart into the R.A. office to discuss 'the hat'.  Turns out Kenny wasn't trying to be insensitive at all, the hat had been one of the last things he had of his father's and he wore it in memory of him.  This was a very emotional issue for Kenny and when the rest of the story had come out we were able to smooth things over with the other residents fairly quickly.  You see the Homeless generally have so few things with memories attached to them, that the few things we have grow increasingly precious to us. Kenny was trying to be a good man, trying to get his life back together.  I met his wife, Cindy, who was staying at a women's shelter at the time and she was very sweet and genuine.  Kenny went out everyday, rain or shine, looking for work (which is a full time job in it self at times), started going to church with his wife and battled daily against that demon, alcoholism.  But, unfortunately, Kenny lost that battle.  He ended up getting put out of the shelter and not too long after that the authorities found Kenny's body in the Savannah River.  Kenny tried and at least someone should have had that to say about him...he really tried.  His requiem that night deserved more than the sound of silence.

I am not faulting the Salvation Army for the service; at least they endeavored to give a reverent and solemn service to these that had passed.  I suppose what weighed on me is the fact that so few knew or came to the event and of the members of the social services organizations and even the few Homeless that were in attendance,  nobody spoke for those who had come and gone.  I am no saint or martyr, just a guy who saw and said something...I guess kinda like what I am doing here.  Just saying something so people will remember that we were, that we are.

I pray a prayer for the families of my three departed friends...and for peace.

Alone

Today I spent the day alone.  In a Homeless Shelter, this is a difficult thing to do, but not impossible.  The life of our brothers and sisters out in the streets, the act of being alone is a constant, but within the walls of a shelter you rarely have a chance to be alone.

At the Old Savannah City Mission everything is corporate.  We ate together, shower together (and the water is generally cold unless you are one of the first few taking a shower), and slept together all in the same dorm room.  When I first became Homeless, Old Savannah was my starting point.  Broke and unemployed with no prospects, I remember being very skittish and close to tears many times that first night.  That night I felt utterly alone, like an astronaut adrift in space desperately calling out and no one hearing, no one listening.  At the Old Savannah City Mission, someone is always standing over you barking orders ushering you from fellowship hall to cafeteria to shower to bed. Vague memories of "Roots" and "Holocaust" flickered through my mind where people with frightened, shocked expressions were shuffled rudely from place to place, never sure of where they are going.  Within the system that is one of the first things you realize, there is no more autonomy of action.  Out in the world when you don't like a movie you can get up and leave.  Here the motto Go Along to Get Along is a stringently enforced mandate written on stone tablets 10 feet tall.  You are told when to come in, where to sit, when to eat, when to shower, when to sleep, when to get up and when to get out and there is no personal control of these activities. 

And those in power say that this is the way that it needs to be, the strict structure of the emergency shelter environment keeps people safe and relatively peaceful.  But the immediate stripping away of one's individuality is instantly attributable to the breakdown of self esteem and self reliance.  The real tragedy here is that the system does not necessarily have to work this way.  Just a few kind words and well intentioned courtesies could go miles in helping the residents of the system retain their self worth.  I am an advocate for sensitivity training for any and all people who work with the homeless and disenfranchised.  And I am not stating that some expensive program be put in place...just show people that saying "Hello, How are you?" and waiting and listening to the response is a kindness.  Saying please and thank you, calling people by their sir names and watching that "Brutally Honest" thing (which is often just an excuse to be cruel to someone else...you know what, the Homeless don't necessarily need your brand of "honesty" because, guess what, life is being BRUTALLY HONEST with them on a daily basis!)

There seems to be a feeling in the Homeless care community that the ways the homeless are engaged works.  Is there any other program that you can think of that believes that after 20 - 25- 30 years that some change is not warranted?  So many of the Homeless in the Streets (we say that they are 'In the Wind') don't want to deal with members of Savannah's Continuum of Care because they feel that they are looked down upon and made to feel like less than a person for asking for help.  When you have social workers telling clients that if they don't do such and such a thing "No one will save them." or have administrators continue to turn a deaf ear to the plight of clients and residents instead of letting go of staff, that are cited regularly for grievances, for their detrimental and demoralizing actions and words toward the people who have no choice but to come to them for services. But Go along to Get Along still is the prevailing wisdom used to quiet the rancor of the Homeless...the threat of removal from the line to get services is real and constant.  "You had better be humble and subservient to be deemed lucky enough to partake in the blessings I (personally) bestow." No one should feel beholden to a person or to a specific building/business to get the help that they need to live.  So many who help the Homeless have set up their own little 'office monarchies' that deliver services to the poor as if they were Yahweh sprinkling manna from Heaven...so superior, so untouchable...so sad. The Bible says "And be ye kind on to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God, for Christ's sake,  has forgiven you" (Ephesians 4:32).  But so many who administer help to the disenfranchised forget that they were ever in need of help.

Today I was alone...by choice.  But so many of my Homeless brothers and Sisters (and their children) are alone because they don't feel that they are worthy to come in.

We Are The Lazarus Community

I have been struggling about what to write here for a few hours.  I sincerely want to open your eyes to what it truly is like to be Homeless, in particular what it is like to be Homeless in Savannah, GA. In telling this very personal story I will aim to be as objective as possible...which will not be possible.

What i pray will happen from this blog is that many of you non-Homeless people will be able to put aside prejudice and see that the Homeless are your brothers and sisters, nieces, nephews, aunts and uncles and neighbors down the street.  And hopefully, for the Homeless that will read this, you will put away your stigma and shame at being in this Homeless Condition...a condition that no more defines who you are and what you are capable of than does a sudden rain shower on a sunny day.  To everyone, Homelessness is something that a person, or persons or families go through...it is not a character trait. 

Oh, and why the Lazarus Community?  In the Bible, Christ raises Lazarus from the dead.  This is my ambition with the Homeless...to bring us all back from the 'living death' that is the situation of Homelessness and to reclaim our rightful places as citizens, and brothers and sisters in today's society.   Prayerfully, I hope to edify you and move you beyond pity to the point that real and effective change can happen to those who have been disenfranchised by the situation of Homelessness.

Here is my voice...part of The Vox Patria, the Voice of the Homeless;

Murdering Hope – The Life of the Homeless in America

“The Question Mark of Cain”

I’m not exactly sure how this works

Grieving I Grieve You

Last time I looked it was me that lost

But it seems my loss

Has inconvenienced you

I am bewildered by how this is

Hating myself you hate me

My face, my body, my breath is abhorrent

You detest my stink

My being & the thought of me

I’m unsure of how again to be sure

And in my confusion you are certain

That I and everything that has to do with me

Isn’t worth a moment

An inkling

The fleck of paint on the caboose

Of the thought train in your mind

And victimized

I feel I should apologize

S.Ladon Ware 2010

Who in their right mind asks to be homeless.

The plight of the homeless in America is not just the problem of lodging or a living wage to afford affordable housing. The main problem of the homeless is the stigma of homelessness. You see the perception of the homeless isn’t tender like poverty stricken children or heartbreaking like women suffering with cancer, or devastating like the victims of war (not taking anything away from these very worthy causes in saying this).

But the homeless suffer under the dark cloud of being ugly and in the way.  The impression many have is of the homeless standing on street  corners in tatters, selling papers and trinkets with scruffy beards, uncombed hair and dirty disgusting fingernails and OMG THE STINK! If you are lucky they will only smell of B.O. and maybe faintly of urine. Scabby, dirty, vile beggars that intrude on your clean life!   It’s all you can do to force down the bile in your throat at the sight of them. The homeless are the modern version of the lepers, soup lines & donations the Bethesda pool and shelters are the colonies, the Lo Debar that they need to be confined to.

So when some of you see them on the corners you don’t feel too bad if you can’t wrestle the change from the ashtray in time before the light turns green. Or when charities ask for your money and time...well... there are soccer games or sewing circles and other somethings to do.  So when legislation is proposed that can help curtail the relentless advance of unemployment, one of the leading causes of homelessness, (by giving substantial stimulus monies to help foster retraining programs and desperately needed infrastructure jobs) it is all too easy to vote no and turn thumbs down.  As the job market collapses & the housing market collapses and the ranks of the homeless swell like a blood-engorged tick you can kick your feet up on your desk, glad that you didn’t add another dime to the national debt (though if our kids starve to death today tomorrow’s debt seems like a moot point). OK, I’ll take a breath now.

Dirty, unsexy lepers. Question, if you don’t do what you can to help the poor & middle class build a solid foundation for this country’s future, what will happen to America’s future? Let’s look back in history – How many societies have survived without major upheaval if the middle class evaporates and the poor get trampled into the mud?

The Great Depression's galvanizing factors looked a whole lot like the factors we are dealing with today.  We didn’t learn from that,  our most recent past , obviously given our present situation. A house without a firm foundation (the underclass) and good sound walls (the middle class) just is not a house in any definition.  People, if we kick out the rest of the house and expect the roof to ‘magic’ itself upright somehow we are fooling ourselves and courting disaster (again).

As a country in 2001 President George W Bush commissioned a report on how to end chronic homelessness in America from several of our country’s major cities. Great information was gathered and it would have been an amazing aid in helping to bring down the ranks of the homeless had this program been able to proceed (unfortunately the events of Sept 11, 2001 halted most of the progress in this area).

But the past is the past. Now we have the opportunity to infuse our job market with a work force that is ready, willing & able (and statistically, the homeless & disenfranchised desire is to work instead of relying on unemployment benefits or welfare) to work. But obstructionists have fought tooth & nail to defer any change in the status quo no matter what the lingering  effects of homelessness does to those in its ranks.

The loss of self-esteem has seen a sharp increase in the rise of depression in the homeless. The homeless have a higher stress level, just living in their situation, not counting the daily grind of looking for work, housing and suitable meals especially if you have children to care for as well.

The homeless are susceptible to higher incidences of staff infection, tooth decay, respiratory & viral infections due to their situations.

Homelessness is draining emotionally, physically, mentally & spiritually.

And when you need to seek help, the number of hoops one has to jump through to find that help is daunting.  The red tape,  both necessary & extraneous, only aid in making a human being feel as inconsequential as ...the designated number on the top of the mountain of forms required to be filled out to get any aid.

The homeless feel helpless, hopeless, unwanted & unloved. A feeling only reinforced by the way they are treated, the vicious and thoughtless way they are talked about (and over and around) and sadly, the way some people look at the homeless with a mix of disgust folded in with a type of pity that doesn’t ever lend a hand out or a hand up.

The homeless only ask to be treated one way – as living, loving, loved, blessed brothers & sisters  – as fellow human beings.  Some of you know this and treat us fairly, other's of you seem to be on that old bandwagon with Ebenezer Scrooge...when confronted with the plight of the poor tenaciously hanging on to some pride and hope, not willing to go to the jails and workhouses, preferring to die instead "If they would rather die,' said Scrooge, `they had better do it, and decrease the surplus population."