Volunteering w/ St. Vincent de Paul -- Ryan

It's So Hard To Say Goodbye To Yesterday

2009-07-22T13:31:00.000-07:00

I went to see poet Saul Williams perform when I was in college and he touched on the subject of writer’s block. Essentially his take was that it doesn’t exist, or shouldn’t exist, in the sense that writing should come from experience and that you will write when you are ready.

Well, this has been one hell of a year--I swam in Lake Tahoe, watched a sunset in Santa Cruz, biked across The Golden Gate Bridge, burnt to a crisp on Venice Beach and watched on television as people rioted down my street to name a few things. However, all things, good and bad, must eventually come to an end and after a few days in Napa at the JVC dis-orientation retreat I am ready to say goodbye to the blog.

It seems like only yesterday I was driving down US-101 to Aptos, California ready to meet 70 other volunteers. I don’t think any of us had a clue of what we were getting ourselves into.

We hung out at retreat for five days talking about the values of JVC and getting to know one another. We would talk about our job placements and I would tell people I was working at a homeless facility and pretend like I was confident and ready for the challenge, but that couldn’t have been further from the truth.

The thought of working with the homeless scared me. Last summer I went to visit friends in Chicago a few weeks before JVC started and we were standing outside of a restaurant on a Monday night in Wrigleyville, the place was pretty dead and a couple of homeless men came up and started talking to us. One man was a Native American named Brian Blue Cloud, and he started doing a drunken rain dance for us and singing Billy Joel songs. It was funny for a little while. His friend came over and seemed pleasant enough at first, but then as the conversation continued things started to get a little more awkward. They started asking us for money and Brian Blue Cloud’s friend demanded we buy him beer and made a thinly veiled threat of violence. We walked away without any altercation, but it was still an uncomfortable situation that left me on edge.

That fear didn’t diminish when I walked into the men’s center for the first time, either. I saw a group of guys I had little in common with. Thoughts of mental illness, drug abuse and felonies raced through my head.

Slowly but surely my feelings changed. We shared conversations of politics and sports over cups of coffee, watched movies and laughed. They showered, did their laundry and on occasion I was able to give them bus passes, shelter referrals and help them with their legal matters.

My clients morphed from a homogenous population into actual human beings with names, hobbies, interests, families, funny stories, past lives and aspirations for the future.

A few weeks ago, while walking home I was stressing out about life after JVC when I spotted a couple of my favorite clients. I was stopped at a crosswalk and they were on the other side of the street. They waited for me to cross and we talked for a few minutes, and mid-way through the conversation, mood completely lifted, I realized that they were no longer my just my clients, they were also my friends.

I don’t mean to romanticize working with the homeless. It is difficult. It is challenging. It is tiring. But it has also been one of the most rewarding experiences I have ever had. I will always remember and be grateful for the lessons of honesty, dignity and living in the present moment that I have been fortunate enough to witness.

To end, I want to thank SVdP and everyone I’ve worked with for making this year possible. Also, I want to thank all of the amazing, talented, committed and inspiring JV's I’ve met who’ve made the experience as fun and meaningful as it’s been. Finally, I want to thank my family for their love and support--you guys are amazing.

One last thought for the year: To paraphrase St. Ignatius of Loyola, “Go forth and set the world on fire, just try not to burn down Oakland.”

Fourth of July

2009-07-02T14:21:00.000-07:00

I was sitting around yesterday thinking--contemplating the meaning of life--and while I didn’t have an epiphany about man’s purpose on earth, I did decide that if I were to create a new and perfect holiday it would be complete with fireworks, hot dogs, burgers, Budweiser and most importantly, a healthy heaping of freedom! Then I realized that I'd just described the Fourth of July. Oh boy, did I feel foolish...

The Way I See It.

2009-06-23T14:27:00.000-07:00

My Jesuit Volunteer year is quickly coming to an end, and it’s both hard to believe and something I’m truly looking forward to. I’ve made really good friends and had some great experiences, but I’m ready to move forward and see what the next chapter holds.

I don’t have any clearer picture of what I want to do with my life than when I arrived in California last August, but one thing I’ve definitely seen this year is the value of commitment.

A few weeks ago I was at Starbucks and my tall cup of black coffee had on it “The Way I See It #76”:

"The irony of commitment is that it’s deeply liberating – in work, in play, in love. The act frees you from the tyranny of your internal critic, from the fear that likes to dress itself up and parade around as rational hesitation. To commit is to remove your head as the barrier to your life." - Anne Morriss

The exciting part of the JV year is long gone—moving out to California, meeting other recent college grads, finding your own definition of the words “social justice,” becoming comfortable working with homeless clients—that was the exciting part. Right now for most JV’s their jobs are second-nature, they are tired of not making money and the truth of the matter is that it’d probably be more beneficial to go wait tables or find any other job.

But few, if any, will take the easy route. This is the part of the year that is truly a test. It is a test of your ability to live in the present moment, to give your best when you would rather be elsewhere and your commitment to serve marginalized populations.

That is the thing about social justice—it’s not always front page news. Actually, it’s rarely news at all. The headlines: “Man Needs Shower,” “Man Needs Cup of Coffee,” “Man Needs Referral to Overnight Shelter,” are not glitzy or attention grabbing. No, they are only true.

Change is slow and it takes a renewed commitment each day to serve your clients with dignity and patience, optimism and compassion without worry of outcome. And maybe, as I’ve experienced this year, you’ll see an old client on the street and he’ll be dressed nicely and thank you for your help. Or, as often happens, most clients will simply disappear from your life without a good-bye, and that’s okay too.

Stories, Freedom and a Picture of Lake Merritt.

2009-06-12T13:15:00.000-07:00

Photo by José Antonio Galloso

On Thursday over 60 people came to St. Vincent de Paul to meet with the Public Defender and prepare for the upcoming Homeless Court that will be held next Friday in our community center. Due to the difficulties of reaching our clients, many of whom only have voice-mail boxes they check infrequently or phones that oscillate in and out of service, it would be nearly impossible to set up appointment times. So instead, we have everyone show up a little before 9:30 with a first-come, first-served policy. At best you could describe the situation as controlled-chaos--more accurately though, it was mostly just chaos. But really, as a whole all of the clients were extremely patient, understanding and excited to be part of the program.

Last night before bed, I opened up The Best American Short Stories 2008 edited by Salman Rushdie and in the introduction he wrote: “…The freedom to tell each other the stories of ourselves, to retell the stories of our culture and beliefs, is profoundly connected to the larger subject of freedom itself…”

That quotation reminded me of my clients who show tremendous strength in addressing their legal matters. We have them write a letter to the judge and document their personal progress, growth and achievements, which the court accepts in lieu of a financial payment.

Essentially, they are telling their own stories, many of which involve job loss, drug abuse, failed marriages and countless other peaks and valleys. For many people, these stories would be too painful and embarrassing, but as I’ve seen throughout this year, our clients refuse to indulge in false pride and they are better for it. It’s clear that the process of addressing their problems--refusing to hide in the shadows and watch their lives spin out of control--is incredibly liberating in a way that someone such as myself who doesn’t live in the margins of society, can ever fully comprehend.

The Dance of Life.

2009-05-27T21:03:00.000-07:00

The chapel at the Jesuit Retreat Center.
I was reminded to stop and smell the roses.

To be alone with your thoughts for the better part of four days is an experience every person should have at one time in their life.

At the beginning of the retreat we all met with our spiritual directors. My spiritual director, S.J. Tom Weston, asked me how I was feeling and if I needed a break from work. I told him I went home the week prior and was feeling pretty refreshed, but about three hours later, with my window open and a nice breeze passing through the room, I was out cold.

Aside from sleeping, and eating ridiculously good food, I spent much of my silent time reading a compilation of Henri Nouwen’s writings called The Dance of Life, which spoke to me in a way few books ever have. The passage that stuck with me the most was: “When we become aware that we do not have to escape our pains, but that we can mobilize them into a common search for life, those very pains are transformed from expressions of despair into signs of hope.”

Part of the retreat included a peace vigil where the staff put out journals we could write down our thoughts on peace and the JV year as a whole. They also put out the journals from the prior years, and it was interesting to see how similar the entries were from year to year. There was always a funny guy, cynical guy, some girl taking herself way too seriously, but mostly there was a deep appreciation for the triumphs, struggles and conflicts they had endured throughout the year. I thought about the journals while I was reading more Nouwen and I recognized that the universal epiphany of this year is that “in solitude we discover that our life is not a possession but a gift to be shared.” We leave the comforts of family and friends at home and move to neighborhoods rougher and more impoverished than most of us have ever lived in, and instead of accepting fear and despair we attempt to find hope and dare to bring light where there is darkness.

As I’ve mentioned before, it’s easy to wonder if there’s any point, to question whether change will ever come, but I think the lesson I’ve taken away from this experience is that joy and sadness are not mutually exclusive. There are days when I’m biking to work and I have a million thoughts and worries running through my mind and I forget to stop and appreciate a crisp morning or blue sky. This was the case the other day when I was running late, still half-asleep when I looked at the park across from St. Vincent and saw one of our clients blasting music on his boom-box and busting a move. I watched him for a while longer, here was this man who has so little, wonders where he’ll get his next meal, where he’ll sleep, and yet he’s still able to find so much joy.

The dance of life doesn’t begin when poverty, mental illness, rampant substance abuse and violence is eradicated--it is here and now. To witness all that is wrong with the world juxtaposed with genuine laughter and untainted pleasure can only be explained through grace--in a word, it’s divine.

Silence, please...

2009-05-15T14:27:00.000-07:00

The excitement of dollar dogs--it's hard to contain.
Hello! I thought I’d drop a line before I head to silent retreat on Monday for four days--this is definitely another reality check that the year is coming to close. The retreat is held in Los Altos at a Jesuit retreat center that is supposed to be very scenic and I hear the food is buffet style and delicious, so I’m looking forward to that and some time to read a few books and relax.

Not too much else is new around here. On Wednesday night I went to the Oakland Coliseum for the first time and saw the Oakland A’s beat the Kansas City Royals 7-2. It was also dollar hot dog night, unfortunately I’d already eaten dinner, so I only ate a couple, otherwise I think I’d be good for about a dozen—I guess that’s something I can look forward to next time.

Also this weekend is the much ballyhooed Bay to Breakers race in San Francisco where people wear wacky costumes and pull around wacky floats and have a real wacky time! So yeah, that should be fun…

"When you become aware of silence, immediately there is that state of inner still alertness. You are present. You have stepped out of thousands of years of collective human conditioning."
-Eckhart Tolle

Ladies and Gentlemen...Guest Cartoonist Brett Foreman

2009-05-04T13:54:00.000-07:00

Here's a little current events humor from our talented culinary student services coordinator Brett Foreman. Enjoy.

Spring.

2009-04-30T17:31:00.000-07:00

Once again, sorry I haven’t written in a while. I guess I haven’t had a lot on my mind lately. Maybe I should buy a hat...I said maybe I should buy a hat! Am I right?

Now that we have that knee-slapper out of the way, not too much is new around here, but I’m back and feeling refreshed after taking a few days off while my family visited. We were able to explore a bit of San Francisco and I showed them around Oakland and my apartment. We also went to Muir Woods and Stinson beach, which were both lovely. The place we rented had a hot tub and I was reminded why people work real jobs--big props to my pops who does not volunteer his time.

It’s hard to believe how much of this year has passed, but it’s been great to get some nice spring weather in the bay area in recent weeks. I’m starting to get excited about the year coming to an end, but I’m also a little nervous, as I don’t have a job lined up. Like most of this year, not making any real money to speak of, it’s been a challenge to live in the present moment and trust that good things are ahead. But I’ve tried for so long, why stop now?

Along the same lines, maybe it’s just my imagination, or merely a couple isolated incidents, but I feel like people in Oakland have been a little pricklier than normal. And by “pricklier,” I mean that they’ve been giving me the middle finger and cursing at me lately. My personal theory is that all of the talk in the media about the recession and unemployment puts people in a foul mood. Whether that’s true I’m not sure, but it’s the theory that allows me to take it less personally.

The past two times I’ve taken a mid-day stroll to Starbucks I’ve had people ask me for money. I politely declined both times. The first time I was with two other people walking past Taco Bell and we told the man we didn’t have any money but that he should check out the free dining room at St. Vincent de Paul. That only served to infuriate the man and he started shouting obscenities at us as we walked away. Though, I guess I can understand--sometimes you really need a Chalupa and nothing else will do. The other time I was walking back from Starbucks another man asked if I had any money and I said I didn’t, but this time the man didn’t even pause to let me tell him about the SVdP dining room before he launched into a mini-diatribe laced with a few choice racial slurs.

Also, a few weeks ago as I pulled off the highway and was stopped at a red light on Jackson St. when a man pulled up beside me, and decided to flip me the bird, apparently I hadn’t given him the proper amount of room to maneuver past me and make a right turn. Oh wait, I did give him the proper amount of room, otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to pull beside me and flip me the bird.

I won’t attempt to weave these stories into some sort of metaphor about social justice or any commentary on the state of Oakland. I will only say that the next time you have the urge to curse at someone who won’t buy you a taco, or maybe another frustrating situation of greater significance, you should take a deep breath or two and maybe the world will be a better place.

Now for some SVdP news, I’d like to give a big blog shout out to my fellow volunteer, miss Lorelei Alvarez, who recently received funding for her graduate studies in social work at UC Berkeley. Also, I’d like to say congrats on her two-year anniversary with her boyfriend Carlos--I give him two thumbs up. What’s that I hear? Oh yeah, the distinct sound of wedding bells!

Forty Acres and a Mule.

2009-04-17T13:39:00.000-07:00

It’s been a while since I’ve written. At certain times this year I’ve felt like I’ve had a lot to say and at other times I’ve needed to sit back and wait for the bigger picture to emerge.

The other week I went and visited another JV in Sacramento on my day off and we went to her agency, also a homeless drop-in facility. I was helping hand out tickets for their dining room when I recognized a familiar face--it was a client at St. Vincent de Paul who hadn’t been around in a couple of months.

The man--in his late 50s with graying dreadlocks--let out a guttural laugh and said, “Hey, boy!” as he often called me. “You move up here, too?”

“I’m just visiting for the day,” I said.

“Well you should. There’s nothing but trouble in Oakland,” he said. I nodded my head in agreement. We talked a little more and he asked, “You still got the book?”

The book is Forty Acres and a Mule. It’s missing its cover, it’s water damaged and I think it was taken from the Oakland Library at some point. While I was managing the men’s center there was hardly a day he wouldn’t pop into my office and talk about the book. For the most part I’d just nod and smile, but I always enjoyed hearing him talk about it. He’d tell me about how he was going to head down to Louisiana and homestead himself up a little farm complete with cows, chickens and horses. He’d say things like, “You think I’m going to end up like the rest of these dopes? Nope, I’m going to get me some land. You better believe I’m going to get me some land.”

“Still got it,” I said as I handed him his lunch ticket.

His eyes lit up and he said, “Yeah, that’s right. I’m still going to do it, boy. I’m going to get a big ol’ place in Louisiana and I’ll let you help me farm it.

“That’s a deal,” I said.

Later in the afternoon he came back to the counter I was working at and asked to get change for a dollar so he could use the vending machine. I gave him ten dimes in return and he left sixty cents on the counter so I could buy myself a soda. I told him I was okay, but he insisted that I take the money whether I wanted something to drink or not. “Boy,” he said, walking away, “these pockets are full of money.”

I felt bad taking his money. I wasn’t quite sure what I should do, but I didn’t want to belittle his generosity so I went over and inserted the sixty cents into the machine and drank a soda while I talked with my former client a little longer.

After not seeing the man for a couple of months, I have to admit I secretly hoped he'd really moved to Louisiana and was hoeing up some craggy piece of swamp land. But mostly I was happy to know he was doing okay.

In reality, I’m fairly certain he never will homestead a piece of land in Louisiana or anywhere else. Though, maybe the dream or fantasy of setting up a little rural farm is the glimmer of hope that gets him by each day, and if that’s the case, I hope he never stops believing it’s possible.

Later on in the day after the homeless facility in Sacramento had shut down we were walking back to the JV house and along the way I spotted the man again. He was slouched on a bench, sort of staring off into the distance at nothing in particular. When he was living in Oakland I saw him around town a couple of times, and like many of our clients I see outside of St. Vincent de Paul, he never had quite the same smile, and he seemed lost in the world, lacking the confidence, or maybe bravado is a more apt description, that he exuded while in the men’s center.

We’d snagged a bunch of Girl Scout cookies from the homeless facility’s warehouse, so I jay-walked across the street and gave him a box of Samoas. He thanked me, but once again he seemed unsure of himself, demeanor completely changed. I told him it was nice seeing him again and that maybe I’d be back later on in the year. He simply nodded and forced a bit of a smile.

It was a reminder of the barriers that exist between “us and them” and how difficult it is to create lasting change. But I thought about it for a while, and maybe that’s okay. Perhaps making one man’s world a little better, slightly more bearable, for one day, or one hour, or even one minute is enough.

“The miracle is not to walk on water. The miracle is to walk on the green earth, dwelling deeply in the present moment and feeling truly alive.” -Thich Nhat Hanh

Taking a look at Oakland.

2009-04-08T21:46:00.000-07:00

I decided that it might be fun to upload a few pics of my neighborhood. Enjoy.

Here's the McDonald's next to my apartment. Nothing quite like a double cheeseburger and McFlurry after a long week.

Here are some ducks hanging out at Lake Merritt, a popular spot for walking, running and even rowing.

If you look closely that's a young couple pushing a stroller down my street. What is this, Berkeley???

This is a picture of the court house in downtown Oakland.

This is a street sign and I like sepia. No other significance.

This is The Ruby Room--best bar in Oakland. Red lighting and cheap drinks. Enough said.

The Oakland Public Library. A great spot for broke JV's.

More Violence in Oakland.

2009-03-24T17:48:00.000-07:00

For the second time this year violence in Oakland has made national news. Last Saturday, after a routine traffic stop three officers were shot and killed along with a fourth later declared brain-dead.

In the words of Yogi Berra: it’s like déjà vu all over again. There is a definite pattern in Oakland where something tragic occurs and the Mayor, Ron Dellums, or another leader talks about the need for change.

"In these moments, words are extraordinarily inadequate," Oakland Mayor Ron Dellums told reporters at a news conference Saturday night at Oakland police headquarters. "We come together in shock, in grief, in sadness and sorrow. Our hearts go out to the officers' families who are experiencing a level of tragedy that goes beyond our ability to comprehend."

"These folks leave their homes in the morning, with every expectation of returning," Dellums said, "but they did not."

Several of the articles touched on the fact that there’s a growing sense of hopelessness. People are aware that change is necessary—it’s the buzzword that sold millions of Obama t-shirts—but like all hollow rhetoric, it’s starting to lose its meaning.

I don’t know what needs to be done, either. I don’t think anyone does. I look around at all of the empty buildings in Oakland and wonder if there’s any realistic solution. Even the Tribune building, with its neon red sign that shines brightest above Downtown Oakland, is boarded up.

Last Thursday I watched an episode of 30 Rock where Liz Lemon, Tina Fey’s character, is dating a guy who has an inflated sense of self due to everyone around him catering to his every need and letting him win because he happens to be really good-looking. They refer to this as “living in the bubble.” Liz also falls into thie trap, but eventually she realizes she can’t continue to be dishonest with this guy. After pointing out several of his shortcomings, the guy becomes extremely frustrated and throws a fit. Eventually he apologizes to Liz and tells her she should come and live in the bubble with him. He confesses to Liz that it’s ironic how much he hated life outside of the bubble. Liz points out that it’s not ironic at all. He laughs and says that he likes the bubble because he can use word ironic however he pleases.

While I was watching that episode the signal kept coming in and out as a helicopter flew atop our apartment building. It turned out that a small convenience store about two blocks from our apartment was held up at gunpoint. The clerk and two customers were shot, but managed to tackle and subdue one of the gunmen.

That’s a little closer than I like my violence to occur.

It made me think of other bubbles in our lives, and one of those is distance, both physical and emotional, from the problems of the most marginalized in society.

One of the JVC houses is located in Berkeley, but they don’t work in Berkeley, most of them work in Oakland. Nothing against the people in that house and the work they do, but in some ways it seems to go against everything that JVC stands for. With that said, when I go over to Berkeley and I see college students, young couples pushing baby strollers, and old hippies in their diesel Mercedes, and a slew of Priuses parked along Shattuck Avenue outside of nice restaurants, I’m a little jealous. I’m able to let my guard down and relax.

I grew up in the suburbs, love the suburbs and will probably someday move back to the suburbs. However, I think it’s important to be aware of the luxuries and privileges we are afforded and often take for granted. When you watch the news and it becomes too graphic and violent you can change the channel, but when it happens down the street it’s harder to ignore.

At several points throughout this year living in Oakland has really started to annoy me and I've felt trapped, but at those times I’ve been able to get away, whether it’s been for a retreat or a visit to another JV house. Though, I’m now starting to see the value in getting even a small sense of what it’s like for those who can’t escape the culture of violence and crime that pervades Oakland.

“Home is not where you live but where they understand you."

-Christian Morgenstern

B-i-n-g-o

2009-03-13T13:25:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I decided to sit in on the Thursday Bingo in the visitation center which is starting to draw a pretty good-sized crowd. Each week they pop popcorn and have a table of prizes ranging from soaps and lotions to dolls, underwear and razors. It’s fun to see how intense the competition gets for all of these fairly inexpensive prizes. My favorite winner was the guy who picked out a pair of pink slippers for his “lady.” After thinking about it for a little while, I realized it’s not about the prizes, but rather, it’s about a sense of accomplishment they receive from winning.

It made me think about the need to strike the delicate balance between necessary handouts and the ultimate goal of helping clients become self-sufficient. The clients as a whole at SVdP are certainly appreciative of the services they receive, but the pride and gratitude they have after helping themselves is on an entirely different level. It can be seen at the graduation for our transitional employees and the kitchen of champions. It can also be seen in the men’s center with the guys who like to earn their keep by sweeping up the floors or emptying the trash.

I guess the desire to be valued and capable is basic human nature. This week a guy who went through the December Homeless Court came in to thank me for my help and to let me know he’d recently found a job. It was a brief conversation, but it was genuine and true, and exactly what I needed to hear. Just when I start to question whether I’m doing any good at all, something like that seems to happen where I’m reminded that the work we do is indeed worthwhile.

"At times our own light goes out and is rekindled by a spark from another person. Each of us has cause to think with deep gratitude of those who have lighted the flame within us." -Albert Schweitzer

March Madness

2009-03-06T13:49:00.000-08:00

Today, six days into the month, I finally realized that it’s March, which of course signifies the arrival of everyone’s favorite season—no, not Lent—March Madness!

I think this is the surest proof that JVC, or at least the lack of money for cable, has had a significant impact on me. And while maybe I’m not “ruined,” there’s a good chance my bracket will be. Actually that’s probably not true, since the tournament no longer seems to have any rhyme or reason and picking winners based on mascots or uniform colors seems to be about as equally effective. Never the less, I normally pride myself on making informed selections, having usually watched at least one game from nearly every school in the dance, even the play-in game. I’m a junkie--my drug of choice is college basketball, that and the occasional highball.

Aside from the lack of cable, I’ve tuned out of this year’s college basketball season in part because my Hoosiers, with first-year coach Tom Crean, are in the midst of a historically bad year, currently sitting at 6-23. Though, we have a good recruiting class coming in, so I think we should be respectable next year and start to seriously compete in another year or two after that. And to all the haters, unless you’re Kentucky or UCLA we still have more championship banners hanging from the rafters (’40, 53, ’76, ’81, ’87). You might point out that it’s been over twenty years since we last won, and if you do the math you’ll realize that the vast majority of guys in this year’s tournament weren’t even born in 1987, but those are minor details…

I assume most of you (the four people who read this blog and aren’t related to me) are unaware of the events that led to this year’s disastrous season. Well, back in the year 2006 IU decided to hire a man by the name of Kelvin Sampson, who was already in trouble at his old school, Oklahoma, for making too many phone calls to recruits, but we hired him anyway. He promised that he’d follow the NCAA rules and do things the right way. To make a long story short, he brought in one NBA lottery-pick, a bunch of junior college thugs and a few other questionable recruits and also continued to make phone calls with reckless abandon.

Sampson knew how to coach, and his teams were relatively enjoyable to watch. Before he was forced to resign during last year’s season, the team cracked the top ten in rankings and was poised to capture a Big Ten championship, though there was always a nagging sense that we were doing things the wrong way. But despite it all, I continued to support Sampson and the team, because when it comes to sporting endeavors it’s always more fun to win than lose.

It’s not as if I supported Hitler and the Nazi party, but the two or three year ordeal has been a reminder and lesson in how easy it is to justify behavior that deep down you know is wrong.

I think there are many issues, especially related to social justice, where it’s easy to fall into similar thought patterns. It’s easier to say, “I’d never do drugs,” “they deserve to be homeless,” or “I’d never let my tickets spiral out of control,” than it is to address the root causes of the problems and the legal and social barriers that exist. That work is difficult, arduous, met with resistance and often painful. But at the end of the day, it’s the right thing to do and there is a certain reward in that alone.

Likewise, this season has been dreadful for the Hoosiers when judged by wins and losses, but not everything can be measured using results. Our team has been battered and bruised nearly beyond recognition, but they hustle and play with pride and our basketball program finally has its heart back, and in my opinion that counts for an awful lot.

Ash Wednesday

2009-02-25T12:44:00.000-08:00

It has been a little while since I last wrote a blog. I think I’m running out of things to say, perhaps hitting the proverbial wall, which is probably natural in February at the midpoint of the JVC year.

This year so far has been simultaneously a blessing and a struggle filled with ups and downs. At times it’s easy for me to walk the streets of Oakland and wonder how things could be any worse and question whether I’m making any difference at all. This year hasn’t necessarily filled me with great optimism that things in Oakland will improve any time soon, but last Friday’s Homeless Court session held here at SVdP was a reaffirmation that my work here is meaningful. The thing I especially like about Homeless Court is that Judge Gordon Baranco isn’t looking for a grand apology or clients to grovel, only that they exhibit progress and a sincere understanding that it’s a one time chance to move forward with a clean slate.

As always my favorite part of the process is witnessing the spectrum of reactions the clients have after their charges and fines are dismissed, it ranges from one woman who fought back tears as she hugged her two-year-old son to the 21-year-old guy whose grin stretched from ear-to-ear as he bragged to me that his $5,000 in fines dismissed had been the most of anyone all day.

“You are dust, and to dust you shall return.”

Another week at SVdP.

2009-02-13T14:25:00.000-08:00

This week has been cold and a little wet and I’ve felt slightly under the weather, so I’ll keep this post short.

Yesterday we had over 40 participants in the Homeless Court come to St. Vincent de Paul to meet with public defender Diane Bellas in preparation for court this coming Friday. Essentially everyone was told to show up at 9:30 in the morning and it was a first come first serve process, so for some it was a very long day of waiting. But in general, all of the clients were extremely patient and thankful to be a part of the program. It was also a great chance to talk with the clients and hear their stories. Many told me about their past jail experiences, drug addiction, divorces, children and what ultimately led many of them to recovery and made them want to turn their lives around. I’ve written about it before, but I continue to be struck by the honesty that many of our clients exhibit when talking about their problems and struggles. I will admit that I’m still shocked by some of the things they tell me, but I’m always impressed with their truth and dignity, which are qualities we should all strive for.

This afternoon there was another graduation for the latest class of culinary students and transitional employees. It was great to see what the students had accomplished and to sample some of the delicious food they made for the final project, but I really had trouble believing that another six weeks had passed. This year is starting to pick up steam.

And now it’s time for a much needed three-day weekend…

Boom!

2009-02-06T12:41:00.000-08:00

The serenity of retreat quickly came to a halt on Tuesday night after work when I decided to go for a jog around Lake Merritt. I put on shorts, a t-shirt, running shoes and had my iPod cued up, unfortunately I only made it about two-hundred feet to the parking lot before I noticed that one of my car windows had been smashed. It probably happened the night before--I recall hearing a sound very similar to my car alarm at around 11:30 that night, but I’m not for sure.

Obviously, a broken car window is fairly minor, and not anything to waste too much energy on, but none the less it was still enough to make me feel violated.

A week or so earlier our support people came over for dinner and we talked about the protests and riots in Oakland, and basically what one of them said is that the recent events hadn’t been a good thing, but that they proved we were working in the right area—a place that needs an infusion of young, educated people willing to work for change. I whole-heartedly agreed. But it’s always easier to witness poverty, injustice, crime, etc. from a distance, even a relatively close distance, than it is when it happens to you.

After cleaning up the glass from inside the car, and calling up my parents to figure out what I should do about insurance and getting it fixed, I talked to the Berkeley JVC house to see if I could drive it over there and crash for the night. They of course said I could, so I put a toothbrush in my backpack and grabbed my sleeping bag and hopped in the car only to discover that the car battery was drained as well. When it’s not your day, it’s not your day.

I headed back inside, ready to kick or punch something, but then I took a deep breath and I knocked on our neighbor’s door and she was generous enough to give me a jump and I headed to Berkeley where one of their neighbors let me park my car in their driveway. We ended up talking and had some tea and put on a movie, making the night about as pleasant as it could’ve been.

I took the car over to get fixed early Wednesday morning and I should have it back this afternoon, but I’ll be honest, on Tuesday night I felt like throwing in the towel and getting the heck out of Oakland. I’ll be honest again, I still kind of feel that way. But after a bit of time to calm down, I realized that it was an event that could’ve occurred anywhere and that I shouldn’t catastrophize the situation. Also, as much of this year has been, it was a reminder of how lucky I am to have a family and friends that care.

“Teach us to give and not to count the cost” -St. Ignatius of Loyola

Back from retreat.

2009-02-03T15:09:00.000-08:00

I just got back to work today after spending parts of four days down at Camp St. Francis in Aptos. The camp was located right beside the beach, and there was a basketball hoop and a bunch of the guys organized a little tackle football game, which I’m still sore from. It was also a nice chance to relax and do a little reading. Unlike when we were there in August, the weather was clear the entire time, and I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a more spectacular sunset. Few things in life put things in perspective the way the Pacific Ocean can.

JVC brought in University of San Francisco professor Mike Duffy. He gave three talks on Catholic social thought. He was a really inspiring guy who has done tons immersion trips and work in the City as well as in third world nations, but what I especially liked was when he talked about how each person has to define for themselves their own meaning of social justice, that it’s a long an arduous process and that you have to take time out for yourself so you don’t burnout in one month, or six months or one year. The quote he used several times was from St. Ignatius of Loyola: “Go forth and set the world on fire.” And then he asked us all to contemplate what that would look like in our own lives.

2009-01-22T14:14:00.000-08:00

On MLK day one of my roommates and I headed over to Jack London Square and rented kayaks. We paddled for about an hour and made it a good distance down the inlet, but not all the way out to the bay. The shore is lined with cranes, tug boats and huge cargo ships and several sailboats and a ferry whizzed by us as we slowly fought our way against the current to get a good view of the bridge. It wasn't the most scenic adventure I've ever been on, but it was pretty cool to launch from a pier five minutes from the heart of downtown Oakland, and as I’ve always found paddling to be, it was extremely relaxing.

Things here at St. Vincent de Paul are going well. On Tuesday the men’s center hooked up an antenna to the television and watched Barack Obama’s inauguration. I didn’t have time to watch all of it with them, but it was inspirational to see people from all walks of life engaged in the political process, which is clearly what Oakland and many places around the country desperately need.

The deadline for submitting Homeless Court applications is approaching next week so things are busy around here. Also, next Friday I’ll be heading back down to Camp St. Francis in Aptos for the re-orientation retreat, which will hopefully be a good time. There's a beach and a basketball court, so I assume I'll manage. That is all...

January Heat Wave

2009-01-15T13:43:00.000-08:00

Northern California is currently in the midst of a heat wave. The word January feels awkward each time it rolls off of my Midwestern tongue, especially as temperatures reached into the mid-seventies this week. There’s already talk of drought and mandatory water restrictions as a result this summer, but until water stops coming out of our faucets I’ll continue to enjoy the great weather!

Last night there was another protest held for the BART shooting death of 22-year-old Oscar Grant. This one included a march from city hall down 14th street to the courthouse and back. It was better organized and a lot less chaotic than last week’s, but still resulted in some minor vandalism as crowds dispersed. One news station showed a guy smashing the windows of a Radio Shack with his skateboard, and down the street a dozen or so guys kicked in the windows of a Wells Fargo…in related news: I bought an iPod for a great price this morning from some dude on the corner of Broadway.

I thought Mayor Ron Dellums made a good point when he said something to the effect that there can’t be selective outrage when it comes to violence in Oakland. As tragic and sensational as Grant’s death was, there are 120 murders a year in a city with a population just over 400,000—there should be outrage over every single one. The passion and intensity that was seen at last night’s protest needs to be seen on a daily basis when it comes to education, employment, gang violence, drugs and the multitude of other problems that Oakland faces. But the truth is, those problems are less exciting, progress is harder to track, and the streets won’t be lined with cops in riot gear while four or five news choppers hover above. If the people at the protests aren’t interested in those issues as well, then the last two weeks amount to little more than a whole lot of rubbernecking.

Social Justice

2009-01-08T13:34:00.000-08:00

In the early hours of New Year’s Day a 22-year-old male was shot and killed by a BART police officer. It’s especially disturbing that multiple people captured the entire incident on video and it appears that the shooting was completely unnecessary. With little progress in the investigation and the police officer resigning from the force instead of meeting with investigators, protesters took to the streets last night.

At around eight o’clock we flipped on the news and they were giving an update on the situation, we noticed that everything was happening just a few blocks away from our apartment. A few minutes later there were fire engines, and cop cars streaming down our street and we could hear people shouting and at least four or five helicopters hovered above downtown for the majority of the night. In all, several dumpsters were lit on fire, storefronts smashed, cars damaged and over 100 protesters eventually arrested.

As I biked to work this morning I rode over more than a little shattered glass, there were still several helicopters in the area and there appeared to be more trash in the street than normal.

There was a quote that struck me in a CNN.com article from an anonymous woman who said: "We live a life of fear, and we want them to be afraid tonight."

Social justice is one of the four tenets of JVC, and it’s clear that many in the Oakland community do not feel that all groups are receiving fair and impartial treatment. It’s also a reminder of how large the schism still is between the police and many urban communities. Working at St. Vincent de Paul it’s easy to see that progress needs to be made in a myriad of areas in Oakland, but for those who don’t see the problems on a daily basis it’s easy to ignore. However, when one incident, a horrific one mind you, is enough to cause the type of chaos that was seen last night, it’s tough for anyone to turn a blind eye.

Happy New Year!

2009-01-07T14:49:00.000-08:00

After spending Christmas home in Colorado, and New Year’s Eve in the city, a visit to the San Jose JV house and a couple of days spent on the couch watching college football bowl games, I am indeed back to work.

It felt good to wake up at a decent hour and ride my bike to work. It was especially nice to see everyone again and get back into a routine. Also, my Monday homeless court orientation was well-attended, my voicemail inbox was full and the guys in the men’s center were excited to see me, which was a nice start to my week.

Last night, for the second time this week I was the only one of my housemates who made it past 9:30, and I think that’s only because I took a nap after work. There is a slight chance we all have mono, but mostly I think it’s a combination of our drafty apartment, cold weather and the sun still setting early. For me at least, there’s a sense that this whole JVC thing is no longer a crazy adventure in California, but rather, it’s our real lives for the next eight months. Those in JVC who are applying to grad schools have finished up their applications and some have already heard back, and those looking for jobs are starting to realize that August, like the mythical year 2000, will eventually come. It’s an oxymoronic test in planning for the future, while living in the present moment and making the most of our remaining time.

Merry Christmas from Colorado!

2008-12-25T13:36:00.000-08:00

I made it...to Christmas

2008-12-18T13:21:00.000-08:00

Ho! Ho! Ho!

With Christmas approaching and cold weather hitting the bay area, things have been busy here at St. Vincent de Paul.

The women’s center has been busy giving away stacks and stacks of clothes and toys to families in need. Like many of the services provided at SVdP, I have been impressed with the honesty, dignity and gratitude that the clients have displayed.

The transition at the men’s center has been going well. A few of the guys weren’t too pleased to see a new guy running the center at first, but after realizing the new guy was now the one handing out bus tickets, razors, toothbrushes and that the hours would be extended, they seemed to adjust pretty quickly.

I looked over some of my first blog posts the other day, and though they’re only four months old, it felt like they had been written a very, very long time ago. The phrase that former JV’s always use when talking about the program is “ruined for life.” I’m not sure what that actually means, but all in all I don’t think I’ve changed a huge amount thus far. It’s been interesting, and a growing process as I’ve become comfortable working with the homeless, but I don’t think it’s transformed me, and definitely hasn’t ruined me.

I’m excited to head home this Saturday for 10 days to see my family, meet up with a few friends, go skiing and eat some good food. Though, the thing I’m looking forward to most is getting away from my roommates. Don’t get me wrong, they are all good people with the exception of maybe two or three of them (that’s funny because there are only three of them!), but a break is definitely needed.

This year has made me appreciate my family and friends more than ever before. Living on a small stipend this year has allowed me to see that lack of money is just one obstacle the homeless face. I’ve seen that we can provide clothes, food, job training and help with shelter, but the one thing we can’t give out—the greatest gift of all--is a network of supportive and loving family and friends.

“In the old days, it was not called the Holiday Season; the Christians called it 'Christmas' and went to church; the Jews called it 'Hanukkah' and went to synagogue; the atheists went to parties and drank. People passing each other on the street would say 'Merry Christmas!' or 'Happy Hanukkah!' or (to the atheists) 'Look out for the wall!'” -Dave Barry

Another Friday Blog.

2008-12-12T13:01:00.000-08:00

After submitting applications for the December Homeless and Caring court, I finally heard back this week from the council with the list of clients they accepted. As always there were a few clients that didn't make the cut—most were understanding but a few were bit perturbed. A client came in last week to check whether he'd been accepted, I hadn't heard back but I told him I thought things looked good and that'd I'd give him a call when I received the list. He didn't have a telephone number, so I told him to check back before he went to the meeting with the public defender on Thursday. Probably through some fault of mine, he went to Hayward for the meeting with the public defender without checking in again and ended up waiting for three or four hours before he found out he wasn't on their list.

This morning he came in to see me, and as you'd probably expect, he was fairly frustrated. I let him know what he could do to improve his chances of being accepted for the next court date, but he still wasn't happy. He asked me why I was ruining his life. I told him that I was neither a public defender nor a judge, and that I didn't have anything to do with the final decision. I gave him the number of the person in charge of the homeless court and he used the phone in the men's center to call, but there was no answer and he was convinced there was some sort of conspiracy against him. I apologized for not being able to do more, but he just stared me down as I explained the next steps in the process, and then after thirty seconds or so he asked why I was looking at him "funny" and dropped a few other expletive-laced comments before leaving.

It's slightly disheartening to have something like that happen, but I guess it comes with the territory when dealing with a volatile population. A minute later, one of the guys knocked on my office door and asked jokingly if the coast was clear, and like that it was on to the next problem. And it's not that I didn't care about the last guy, it's simply that there are always way too many current problems to get bogged down with past failures and situations that you can no longer affect.

In other news, my time as interim men’s center director came to an end today. I will still be spending plenty of time out in the center, but on Monday there will be a new director. It will free me up to be less of the father-figure and more of the kooky uncle who comes in and plays card games.

Being in charge of the men’s center has been a really good learning experience. At first it was somewhat intimidating, and there have been more than a few unruly and disgruntled clients, and they’ll steal your toothpaste, deodorant and just about anything else of value, but in general the guys who frequent the men’s center have all been really nice and respectful. The main thing I’ve found in dealing with the guys is that you have to be honest and direct and willing to genuinely listen, but I suppose that’s true of all people and populations.

Thankscoffee

2008-12-05T09:57:00.000-08:00

For the most part I’ve given up coffee in favor of herbal tea after watching my morning cup of coffee each day turn into an entire pot. Though last Friday, with nothing to do after spending an entire afternoon watching college football, I hopped on my bike and headed to the Starbucks on Lakeshore Avenue.

I found an empty table next to the window to nurse a cup of coffee and write. The sun was setting, the sky a dark, but luminescent shade of gray. I had forgotten to throw my iPod in my backpack, so I was forced to listen to the Christmas music that played on the stereo, which turned out to be fairly pleasant.

Several people typed away on their laptops, others sank into the upholstered chairs and pored over a newspaper, two tables played chess while several others gathered around to watch and converse.

I sat and thought, this is what Oakland needs. This was the Oakland I fell in love with when I moved here in August. The lake, China Town, the temperate weather, proximity to San Francisco, the amusing hipsters with their bikes, tattoos and mustaches, the Catholic church with a gospel choir. There is a lot to love.

But, then after a little while, it’s easier to look at all of Oakland’s shortcomings. The homeless are everywhere and the entire downtown is practically boarded up. You wonder how it happened, and maybe that’s not important, but the question of how things will ever change is important. It’s never going to be easy, but especially with the current economy, the task of turning things around seems especially daunting.

I took another sip of coffee, the caffeine really kicking in, and thought about the prior week and my first Thanksgiving away from my family. Near dinner-time with several other JV’s I was admittedly a bit depressed, but after a couple heaping plates of turkey and all the fixings and some pie and a couple of beers I felt a lot better. It was, as people who annoy the heck out of me often say, “excessive in typical American fashion.” Exactly the way it should be, in my opinion.

I think that it’s often hard for people to find that balance between excess and guilt and somewhere in that equation is also sanity. There are always going to be people in need, but at a certain point you have to take time out for yourself without feeling bad about it. This is especially true in an area like Oakland where poverty pervades. Perhaps, that’s the kind of moderate thinking that will never change the world, but I really enjoy green bean casserole and pumpkin pie, I guess...

On my second cup of coffee, thoroughly buzzed, I thought about The Awaken Café in Oakland. The café’s first meaning is obviously a place to wake up, and the second meaning is the cultural and economic awakening that Oakland needs. I wondered if maybe I should’ve been down there, by the homeless men and boarded up store-fronts, but instead I was down near the hills on Lakeshore Avenue across from Trader Joe’s and down from The Gap.

Too much caffeine--my own thoughts were irritating me.

A couple next to me was talking loudly about Obama and Africa and God and an old hippie was sitting Indian-style with his Birkenstocks off. The sky was now completely black and I decided it was time to start biking home. I took a final sip, wiped up the table and headed for the exit as one last thought pin-balled through my head, the lesson I keep coming back to time and time again this year--acceptance.

Great afternoon. Great cup of coffee. Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

Winter is coming...

2008-11-21T12:35:00.000-08:00

Today it’s sunny and in the 60’s, making it difficult for me to believe that Thanksgiving is really next week.

Though, on Monday the winter shelter at the Oakland Army Base opened up and the number of guys contacting me about getting a voucher to stay there is a sure sign that rain and cold weather is on the way. In total there are one-hundred beds, thirteen of which we distribute from SVdP. The guys can stay there for 28 consecutive days between the hours of 5p.m. and 8 a.m., and are also provided with transportation to and from the base.

It’s great to be able to help 13 people find shelter for the winter, but at the same time it’s a reminder of just how many people are in need of a place to sleep. I’ve felt a bit like Scrooge having to turn so many people away, but that’s just the reality of the situation.

In other news, the men’s center has been chaotic as always. This week I had to call 9-1-1 after a man had a seizure in the shower. After seizing for a couple of minutes, he seemed to be okay, a little disoriented, but the response time of the paramedics was less than stellar had it been a more serious situation. Moral of the story, please don’t have a heart attack in the men’s center.

While that was going on an older man who mostly just comes into the center to check his mail came in waddling rather quickly with a serious case of the runs. I’m not sure if he made it to the bathroom on time, and I didn’t ask as he re-emerged twenty minutes later shaking his head.

This afternoon there’s another graduation ceremony for the latest batch (pun intended!) of culinary students to complete the 12-week program. For the final project each student prepares a dish that is served after the ceremony for family, friends and staff, so in preparation I ate a light breakfast and lunch and should be ready to put on a Kobayashi-esque eating display.

Surviving

2008-11-14T12:17:00.000-08:00

Yesterday after I gave a guy two bus tickets to get to a job interview, he thanked me and I wished him luck and he told me that he didn't believe in luck--that luck only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades. I told him I thought the phrase was that "close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades," but he wasn’t interested. He said “God Bless” and was out the door.

Sometimes that’s how it feels when dealing with the homeless--we get close, but never quite there.

We throw grenades in the form of a shower and bar of soap, a razor and shaving cream, a cup of coffee and a donut, clean socks and underwear, a place to make phone calls, receive mail and use the Internet and the only thing you can do is hope that something sticks and makes a difference. Most likely it won’t.

Often, I grow frustrated when I give the same guy a new toothbrush two days in a row, or when I explain the same thing four times, or when a guy comes into my office and tells me how I should be running the place instead of simply saying thank you for providing a warm, safe place to get off of the streets for a couple of hours.

It probably sounds selfish, but the only thing I know for certain after working here is that you have to save yourself.

On certain days I wonder if it’s a battle even worth fighting, and then I think about one of the volunteers in the men’s center who likes to jokingly rant about how “all them cats got amnesia.” The guys pretty much try to get away with anything they can, and when they get caught they plead ignorance, as if the same rules haven’t been in place for the last three months. It’s aggravating, to say the least, and the only solution I’ve come up with so far is to fight fire with fire and develop a similar case of amnesia--a process greatly aided with long naps after work, runs around Lake Merritt, Hamburger Helper and Charles Shaw.

I try to not let their failures become my failures, because when I do everything all too quickly becomes overwhelming and destroys any semblance of optimism that I still have. Without optimism there’s no presence, patience or compassion, and without that, coming back day after day and pitching horseshoes at a pit that may or may not have a stake is impossible, useless at best--you have to believe you're eventually going to get lucky and toss a ringer.

TGIF

2008-11-07T10:37:00.000-08:00

It’s Friday again and I’m not quite sure where all of the time went. This week marks the third month I’ve been in JVC and in some ways it feels like I’ve been here forever, and in other ways I still feel like I’m just getting my feet wet.

For the most part I like to try and write coherent posts, but this is a blog and currently I have no coherent thoughts, so I’ll just give you a quick re-cap of the week.

It rained on Monday, and since I only wake up with exactly enough time to grab a quick shower, throw on clothes, inhale breakfast, and bike to work in exactly seven minutes, walking was not an option unless I wanted to be thirty minutes late. Also, I don’t own an umbrella. So, I put on my raincoat and braved the elements. It turned out to be a pretty enjoyable experience, though drying out for the next three hours at work wasn’t quite as much fun. But you know, saving the planet from dangerous greenhouse gases is a 365/24/7 job, not just like when it’s nice outside…

Tuesday was quite an historic day with the election of Barack Obama. There was a definite sense of excitement in the men’s center and Oakland in general. One of the older guys told me that he voted earlier in the morning for the first time in his life, and this was a man who spent twelve years in the armed forces.

From about the time Obama was officially declared the president-elect until I fell asleep shortly past midnight the sound of cars whizzing through the streets, honking their horns, filled the air. One of my roommates and I decided to join in the celebration and opened up a bottle of wine as we watched the speeches of McCain and Obama, and afterwards we went joyriding around the block! I kid.

Along with all of the hope and excitement there was a slight sense of melancholy and nostalgia as I thought back over the past eight years and all that has happened, both as a country and personally. It felt a bit like New Year’s Eve. Cheers, America.

On Wednesday I cooked dinner for my housemates and another former JV. I made chicken, stuffing and creamed corn--I’m a little excited about Thanksgiving. Also, the former JV was kind of enough to bring over mint chocolate chip ice cream, which is quite the treat these days.

On Thursday a former professional wrestler came into the men’s center to use the computer and get a cup of coffee. He pulled up an old clip of himself from Wrestlemania II which was pretty awesome--he was shirtless and wearing purple tights. I’m really hoping he never acts up, because I certainly won’t be intervening, but luckily he seems like a gentle giant.

Aside from that, Thursday was a fairly routine day, though I was a little tired. When I got home from work I laid down for a quick nap and about thirty minutes later I woke up feeling disoriented, thinking it was Friday morning and I had overslept work, but unlike the time I did that In elementary school, I didn’t get in the shower.

Tonight I’m headed over to the JV house in San Francisco for a “dress like you’re in your forties” themed party. I should be looking quite dapper rocking a collared shirt and sweater and I’m currently debating whether to wear some nice dress shoes or go with the old man cross-trainer look.

"The word enlightenment conjures up the idea of some superhuman accomplishment, and the ego likes to keep it that way, but it is simply your natural state of felt oneness with Being. It is a state of connectedness with something immeasurable and indestructible, something that, almost paradoxically, is essentially you and yet is much greater than you. It is finding your true nature beyond name and form." -Eckhart Tolle

Happy Halloween!

2008-10-31T09:17:00.000-07:00

Today it’s cold and it’s rainy and generally unpleasant outside, which on any other Friday would be a downer, but since it’s Halloween, it feels perfect. I guess those are my Midwest roots shining through.

This afternoon we’re having a small Halloween party for the staff, transitional employees and volunteers. I’m dressing as a construction worker. The costume is not well crafted or clever; it’s actually fairly pathetic. I’m wearing jeans, hiking boots, a t-shirt, aviators and an orange construction vest that I found in my closet when I moved in. What can I say? I’m living simply.

Yesterday I jokingly asked one of the guys in the men’s center if he planned on dressing up for Halloween. He laughed and he stroked his beard for a couple of seconds and said, “No, but I think I will go trick-or-treating. What time do the kids go out these days?”

I wasn’t sure if that was a good idea, but I decided to let him make his own call on that one. So here’s to hoping he gets plenty of good things to eat and not picked up by the cops!

On the subject of costumes, on some days I feel as though I’ve come to work dressed as Superman. Similar to when Clark Kent takes off his glasses and no one recognizes him, when I put on my SVdP badge the guys suddenly think that I’m capable of anything. And while it’s flattering, it’s also occasionally overwhelming.

A week or two ago one guy came into the center and he wanted me to get him a job. He told me about how he’d been fired and how he has a wife and two kids that he needs to support. I referred him inside to the job center at SVdP, but that wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted me to find him a job, but not just any job, a job in Texas. I eventually found him the numbers of a few job agencies in Houston and convinced him to go inside to the job center and see what they could do for him, and I casually said I would let him know if I heard of any other leads.

I should be more careful with my words. He came back into the center, looking understandably tired and disgruntled, and he asked me if I’d found him anything. I shook my head and apologized and then asked how things went over in the job center. He said they hadn’t found him anything either and looked away. A minute later he asked if I wanted to play cards. I wasn’t really in the mood, but I figured it was the least I could do and said “sure.”

As the word was still rolling off my tongue, stuck in between my teeth, he stood up from his seat and, before storming out, he angrily said, “Man, forget you. You don’t care about anyone. You just want to play cards. You don’t want to help me out--I’ve got kids, man!”

That was a trick question, certainly not a treat, though.

I felt bad, I really did, and I wished that I could’ve done more. But the truth is, in most cases I really can’t. On most days I have enough trouble making sure we have clean towels, enough soap, shampoo, a hot pot of coffee and an appropriate movie to put on the television.

Taking satisfaction in the small strides and little victories is something I’ve touched on before, but it’s something that I have to constantly remind myself of. When I can get a guy a clean pair of socks and underwear--that is a small step. And when, like earlier this month, I can call around and get one of our clients into a rehabilitation center--that is a major victory, and one that needs to be appreciated, because they are few and far between.

“You can safely assume that you've created God in your own image when it turns out that God hates all the same people you do.” -Anne Lamott

A Clean Slate.

2008-10-22T15:27:00.000-07:00

A major perk of working in the men’s center is that I’m allowed to wear jeans most every day. However, last Friday morning I woke up bright and early and pressed a nice pair of khakis and a white dress shirt and even threw a tie in my backpack—that afternoon I was hopping on the Bart and heading over to Berkeley for the October Homeless Court date.

But first, I had to spend the morning in the men’s center. Things were going smoothly, I finished up a bit of paperwork and checked my e-mail and decided to get a cup of coffee when a couple of guys got into a bit of an argument. I walked over and told them to break things up, that they couldn’t fight in the men’s center. The arguing quickly stopped and one of the men decided to leave the center. I was feeling good, thinking maybe I should dress nicer more often, that it gave me an added amount of authority.

My arms were beginning to tire from patting myself on the back for the way I handled the situation. And then it happened, the guy who decided to leave the men’s center decided that maybe he should come back into the men’s center and continue the argument. I will spare the details and jump to the climax of the story—it ends with me covered in coffee.

I’m pretty certain part of the story also involves me shrieking like a little girl, but that’s not really important. After things settled down and I cleaned up, the rest of the morning turned into the “roast of Ryan Want,” albeit not a very good one. “So, are you drinking your coffee or wearing it?!?!?!?!” was the joke I heard about ten times from ten different guys.

After biking home and changing, I finally arrived at the Berkeley Food and Housing and took a seat in the back as I waited for the session to start. In August I was able to catch the very tail-end of a court session, but this was my first chance to see the process with clients I had worked with and helped through the process. The sessions are held outside of an actual courtroom to create a more relaxed environment for the clients, though the process is very official, complete with a judge, district attorney, public defender and two clerks.

Judge Gordon Baranco addressed those in attendance and thanked them for participating in the program, reassured them that nobody would be arrested and emphasized that it was a one-time opportunity to clear their records and fines and that they really needed to learn from the experience.

It was an intriguing process to witness, listening to the public defender read the clients’ stories of addiction and recovery and personal growth. After each of my clients had their cases heard, all with positive outcomes, I spent a few minutes outside talking with them individually. One woman was in tears and gave me a big hug. Another guy who had fines in excess of $5,000 cleared kept insisting that he really had taken care of the fine from his 1987 D.U.I.
The emotional reactions varied from client to client, but on each one of their faces you could see the undeniable sense of relief that comes with a clean slate.

On a less important note, the coffee stains on my white dress shirt weren’t completely expunged after the first washing, but I'll give it another shot in about two weeks when I can once again afford to do laundry.

JVC Fall Retreat

2008-10-16T15:57:00.000-07:00

Last weekend I went down to Colby Ranch, about an hour north of Los Angeles, for the JVC fall retreat. It was cold and fairly miserable and in the middle of nowhere without any cell phone reception, both of which the JVC staff failed to warn us about. Not exactly the sunny southern California weather I’d been hoping for—it was more like a not so beautiful version of Colorado.

Now that I have that out of my system, I will say that it was nice to get away from Oakland for a couple of days and have some time to reflect. One of the activities was a guided meditation followed by some pseudo-psycho-mumbo-jumbo molding of clay, I’m not quite sure. Many people made leaves, trees, bridges, waves and all different kinds of elaborate very artistic sculptures, but I decided to shape a clay sphere—partially because I wasn’t overly enthused about the activity, but not entirely.

It has been just over two months since starting JVC, and like the transformation from a block of clay into a sphere, the transformation has been slow and subtle. The way I view my interactions and place in the world has shifted and certainly the way I look at homelessness and other marginalized-populations has changed as well. This is not to say I have become a great person, because I haven’t. I still like to make too many generalized, sweeping, often offensive comments, and that probably won't change, but perhaps they’re now done with more thought and compassion.

One entry in Christian Lander’s popular blog, “Stuff White People Like,” is:

#62, "Knowing What's Best for Poor People." ("It is a poorly guarded secret that, deep down, white people believe that if given money and education that all poor people would be EXACTLY like them.")

In an interview that appeared in the East Bay Express Lander said, "That's kind of ridiculously condescending and unfair, but that was absolutely the way I thought. And I still do."

Lander’s comments are intentionally outrageous but also somewhat true, and the idea of recent college graduates with little experience helping the homeless, mentally ill, abused, etc. is equally absurd at best. It is also beautiful, naïve, refreshing and something the world needs more of.

The ball of clay also represented not dwelling upon what could have been, or how things should have been, but coming to peace with the reality of a situation.

Talking with many other JV’s at retreat there was often a sense of disappointment, that things were harder or less exciting and meaningful than they had hoped. It was the realization that we don’t have all the answers and that change is slow and plodding and dirty and tiring and doesn’t happen overnight. Change starts with a load of laundry, a shower, a hygiene kit and conversation over a cup of coffee.

"The mysterious route of faith and love that led Peter and Paul from their native land to Jerusalem, then to other parts of the world, and finally to Rome, is a model of the journey that every Christian is called to accomplish to witness to Christ in the world."
-Pope John Paul II

The Sweet Science.

2008-10-07T13:36:00.000-07:00

Today in the men’s center we watched Resurrecting the Champ. It tells the story of a young sports writer at the fictional Denver Times who is eager to make a name for himself and jumps at the chance to write a feature on a former boxing champ that most believed died 20 years prior, but who he “discovers” living on the Denver streets. However, in his excitement, he is careless and neglects to do some basic background checking that would have easily shown that the homeless man was an imposter and that the real champ had indeed been dead for 20 years.

It is far from a great movie, yet it’s strangely compelling. It’s a movie about struggle and passion and the dangers and misguided beauty in attempting to be more than you really are.

As the movie played it was interesting to hear some of the guys talk about Joe Louis, Rocky Marciano and other boxing greats and see the way they reacted to the movie’s fight scenes.

The movie ends with a voice-over of the young sports reporter at his desk in a dark room pounding away at his computer, owning up to his mistakes, and he says something to the effect that in boxing, like writing, one must stand alone--there is no place hide.

Boxing like no other sport turns impoverished men into gods and just as quickly throws them back on the street as soon as every ounce of value has been extracted. And if the guys in the men’s center can’t relate to the highs of a heavyweight-champion, they can certainly relate to the lows that follow. It is no wonder that writers such as Ernest Hemingway, Norman Mailer and Joyce Carol Oates have been compelled to write about the sport—it is life heightened and accentuated. One man loses. One man is exalted in victory. Both are bloodied and battered and will ultimately pay a price—physically and mentally—that few can fully comprehend.

Many argue that boxing is barbaric and has no place in a civilized society, which is probably true, I myself am no great fan, but never the less, it is a metaphor we should strive for every single day of our lives. It is the end of deception and the illumination of truth. When a fighter is knocked out cold on the mat, there is no longer doubt regarding who’s the better man. It’s the honesty we need when examining our work, interactions with friends, relationships with family and commitment to living out our faith.

“Christianity is not a theory or speculation, but a life; not a philosophy of life, but a life and a living process.” -Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Jack London Square

2008-09-30T14:43:00.000-07:00

After work last Friday I decided to bike a few blocks down Broadway and over to Jack London Square and do a little reading down by the pier. On the way there, I was stopped at underpass next to a guy holding a sign that read “Homeless, anything will help. God Bless.” He showed all of the cars at the intersection his sign and then he turned to show it to me, I diverted my eyes slightly, and then I heard a laugh come from the man, and he said, “Hey, I know you!”

I was slightly caught off guard and it took me a second before I recognized the man and I said, “Hey, I know you, too!” We’d read the paper and drank coffee together at the same table in the men's center earlier in the morning.

I sat there, propped on my bike seat, and we shot the breeze (as the kids say) for a few minutes about things down at SVdP. I will openly admit that I’m not a huge fan of panhandling, especially at intersections, and as we continued to talk I kept thinking, “Why are you here?”

And then I caught myself. It was a reminder that homelessness can’t be summed up in numbers and statistics, and that it can’t simply be legislated away. There are drunks and addicts and many are mentally-ill and smell unbearably bad—but, there are also guys who are funny and likeable and can talk intelligently about sports and politics.

It’s scarier to think about them. It’s so much easier to think of the homeless as a population that can be easily boxed in--who’ve made decisions and done things that we would never do. It is disconcerting when you look at a homeless guy and you legitimately wonder, “Are we really that different?” Maybe there is a big difference, and at that point you can ask, “Is there really any difference between him and my crazy uncle that shows up to random holidays every couple of years?” Probably not.

Homeless Court

2008-09-25T13:05:00.000-07:00

Homeless Court submissions are due today. It reminds me a bit of college finals as people scramble to get their applications in before the deadline. Oh yeah, I really should’ve read all eight books assigned this semester…Oh yeah, I should really get that misdemeanor cleared up. Very similar.

For the second time I’d like to say good-bye to last year’s SVdP JV Mike Tyler. After helping us out at the men’s center for a few more weeks he’s leaving on Friday and moving on to bigger and better things in San Fran and I wish him well.

Currently, we haven’t yet secured a new men’s center director, so starting Monday I’ll be taking a slightly larger role.

Speaking of roles, the Seldom Seen Acting Company that is comprised entirely of homeless men is heading to Kentucky over the weekend for an acting competition. So break a leg, guys. No, break two!

Speaking of really bad jokes, as the ultimate sign of respect for Mike Tyler I’ve prepared a short little roast:

What can I say about Mike? Well, he’s a pretty trustworthy fellow…for a guy with two first names!

We really hope he has time to come back and visit us at the men’s center from time to time…for a shower!

Mike Tyler’s so stupid it takes him two hours to watch 60-Minutes and 13-months to complete a JV year…

As a token of our appreciation we’ve prepared a special little 1,000-plate farewell luncheon in his honor…so Mike, walk around the building and get in line for the dining hall!

Best of luck—you’re going to need it—and don’t let the door hit you on your way out…because I like you too much and wouldn’t want that to happen.

Numero Uno.

2008-09-18T12:25:00.000-07:00

After the initial first few days at the center I have been surprised at how comfortable I’ve felt while interacting with clients. Mostly I stay inside of the visitation center and the men’s center, and in the morning I ride my bike from the Lake Merritt area to SVdP, located on the corner of West Grand and San Pablo Avenue, which is right at the edge of where Oakland really becomes Oakland to use a slight euphemism.

However, yesterday after coming back from lunch in the dining hall, the door to the main center was locked and I was forced to walk outside of the caged parking lot and around the block to get back into the main entrance. It was a reminder that I am still a visitor in a foreign land. There were stray dogs and more than a couple of guys carrying on loud conversations to nobody in particular and I’m pretty sure one of them yelled, “Hey, white boy” at me. Rather than stopping to explain my ethnic makeup, I thought it prudent to keep walking and avoid eye-contact, figuring the v-neck cotton-cashmere blend sweater I was sporting was already more than enough provocation for any one of them to justify commencing a Jets-Sharks style rumble.

The other news at SVdP is that we’re implementing web-based software to track our clients more efficiently. As a drop-in center with many different functions it has been hard to accurately track the clients and progress of the center using various Excel sheets dispersed throughout the different departments. The software will also supposedly allow us to compile over 1,000 different reports based on demographics and other info we gather.

I’m hoping there’s a report that will allow me to say, “Oh, well I helped seven more clients this month, which according to this web-based software report I just ran, I’m 53.5% closer to heaven and eternal salvation.” Because as we all know, when it comes to helping people it’s all about what’s in it for numero uno, right?

Uncertainty.

2008-09-16T15:10:00.000-07:00

If last year at this time you told me I’d be living in Oakland and spending a significant amount of my time working with homeless men, I wouldn’t have believed it. I was comfortable in Colorado, it was familiar and there also wasn’t a 15-year-old high school drop-out smoking and chilling in my suburban cul-de-sac at all hours of the day and there definitely weren’t drug deals occurring within earshot of my window. With that said, I have truly enjoyed my first month in Oakland and JVC in particular. There is great uncertainty, but the flip-side of that is the excitement of new opportunities and experiences.

There has also been a level of uncertainty at SVdP, after my first week here the decision to change the men’s center director was made. Currently, last year’s JV in my position is running the center in the interim. We also decided to shut down the center for about a week to refinish the floors, which also allowed us a chance to clear out the old clutter and only put back items that were essential to the functioning of the facility. One of the volunteers informed us that the stuffed armchair was covered in a sheet because two years prior a man had vomited on it and it had been too difficult to clean up—we decided that it was no longer an essential item.

In addition, we rearranged much of the furniture in the center and so far the changes have been received with an overwhelmingly positive response. The guys thought the floor was “sharp” looking and appreciated that we had moved the TV to a part of the room with less glare from the Sun. I’ll go out on a limb and say that the room now has phenomenal feng shui! Though, I don’t actually know any principles of feng shui, but in any case, the energy has been greatly improved. I'm guessing there's a correlation between the new changes and the abnormally large number of guys requesting bottles of our free “Man Power” vitamins.

Another thing we’re trying out is purchasing a couple of newspapers each morning to leave out on the tables for the guys to read as they drink coffee or wait in line for the showers or laundry. So far it looks like the guys are enjoying the papers and we’ve even had a few informal discussions about various news items, mostly homicides, in the Oakland area. We might try to make it into a more formal thing in a couple of weeks, or we might just keep it casual, either way it will be nice especially as the election approaches.

“It is no use walking anywhere to preach unless our walking is our preaching.”
-St. Francis of Assisi

A Wealth Beyond Measure.

2008-09-10T15:24:00.000-07:00

Each week I hold a short orientation on Mondays at 10 a.m. for the Homeless Court in the visitation center at SVdP. The first couple of ones were lightly attended, which was actually a nice chance to get my spiel down, but this week about a dozen people showed up. As last year’s JV warned me, there are always a few people who with legal issues that we don’t handle and are slightly perturbed, often times at me, when they realize they have wasted a good portion of their morning. Beyond that, the thing that has stood out is the inability for people to deal with their legal problems, many having let fines and citations spiral out of control to the point that, aside from Homeless Court, jail time is their only option.

Later that afternoon as I sat in my office, my mind drifted to the party my housemates and I threw on Saturday. About 20 people from local JVC houses showed up, I won’t bore you with the details, but let’s just say we set the bar pretty high for future JVC gatherings. It amazed me that in just over a month’s time, we had already created this large network of friends and lifelines scattered all throughout California, a place where few of us had spent extensive time

Then, I thought back to earlier in the day, one man stayed after everyone else had left and asked me if I could provide him with additional assistance. He was on disability due to a brain injury and he was also illiterate. I helped him as much as I could, walking him through the instructions several times and helping him figure out the areas in his life he could document as progress and offering to help write his letter to the public defender the next time he comes in. I’ll be honest and admit that I have my doubts whether he’ll actually return, but I’m hopeful. I’m hopeful because he was genuinely grateful that I had attempted to help him, and because it was clear that he has few other options.

On Monday night, the temptation of watching my Denver Broncos play the Oakland Raiders on national television was too much, so I grabbed my bike and headed to a little sports bar on the other side of Lake Merritt. The Broncos pretty much dominated the Raiders in every single aspect of the game, but I was careful not to get my hopes up too high for the rest of the season—the Raiders are really just that bad.

As much as I enjoyed watching the game, I also felt a level of homesickness that I’m not sure I’ve experienced since freshman year of college. It was lonely being the only Broncos fan in the entire bar.

The next day, I made the connection between the loneliness I felt watching a sporting event to the isolation and hopelessness many of our clients must experience on an every day basis, whether it’s dealing with court fines or simply finding a safe place to sleep at night.

I realize that it may seem shallow, and it probably is, to think that I have even the slightest idea about what our clients deal with, especially since my struggles involve cable television and a cold beverage or two that may or may not have left me red in the face—but it’s the best I can do for now.

One tenet of JVC is simplicity, which is sort of enforced through the $85 per month stipend we receive for personal expenditures. But what I’ve come to realize is that this year is not about pretending to be poor--that task has already proved impossible. Trite or not, the value of friends and family and the ability to turn to others in times of need is a privilege and a blessing and a wealth beyond measure.

Facing adversity with dignity and honesty.

2008-09-05T13:24:00.000-07:00

This week really seemed to fly by. It could have been that it was only four-days, or maybe I’m settling into the daily routine around here. For those that haven’t been into St. Vincent de Paul, it’s a bit of a maze, so simply not getting lost every five minutes this week has had a calming effect on me.

The men’s center shut down on Thursday and will remain closed until Wednesday while a few of our maintenance men renovate the floors--because you know, men without roofs over their heads are real sticklers about a decent floor.

Probably the highlight of my week was putting in Mighty Ducks II for the afternoon movie. I thought it might be inspirational and provide some light-hearted fun. I was wrong. There were a few laughs here and there, but for the most part it didn’t seem to satisfy their daily appetite for action and violence. I left the men’s center to take a phone call and when I returned fifteen minutes later they’d already put in another movie, but I think it was a good learning experience for everyone involved—I figure that they test my boundaries on a daily basis, I should at least make them uncomfortable every now and then. For all of you reading in West Oakland, spread the word, SVdP men’s center will be showing The Notebook next Friday!

Looking back at some of the blog posts of former JV’s here, I’ve realized that there can only be so many epiphanies about social justice, poverty, addiction and homelessness. With that said, each day at work there’s been a moment where I’ve been struck by the openness and willingness of clients and volunteers to talk about the struggles and adverse situations they are facing. They speak with dignity and honesty, and it’s refreshing, other times jarring, but most of all it’s something to be emulated. It’s not a joke when one of our volunteers takes home a heaping pile of food from the dining hall and openly admits that they don’t have any other food in their refrigerator, but it’s also not something to be ashamed of or hide. It just is—and that’s all life can ever be.

Turning on the light.

2008-09-03T13:50:00.000-07:00

The other day as I went into the backroom of the women’s center about an hour after it had closed down for the day to get a glass of water, I flipped on the light switch and heard an alarming noise—it appeared to be a grumbling pile of clothes. In fact, there was a woman trying to sleep beneath the clothes—a pregnant woman who was also an addict. It was disturbing to think of the unborn child that is to come into the world to be cared for by a mother who can’t care for herself, facing a life of poverty and great uncertainty. It was also another reminder of the difficult circumstances many of our clients are facing.

One thing that I’ve really noticed since joining JVC is how out of touch with the world you can become in just a couple of weeks. My constant checking of e-mail and news has nearly ceased due to the lack of Internet in our apartment and the terrible reception that our TV receives. At home I was a bit of a political junkie, watching commentary on MSNBC and CNN for hours on end, but here I’ve realized that the world goes on without my reading of every John McCain “senior moment” and apparently “Alaskan teenagers gone wild.”

Also, the other day one of the volunteers in the dining hall asked if I’d seen one of the college football games over the weekend. I shrugged and said that I don’t get ESPN, but still he recounted the game—I apparently missed one of the greatest games ever.

Though, I got my revenge afterwards when he launched into a story about his recovery from alcoholism, and I said, “Oh really, well let me tell you this great story about the amazing six-pack of beer I drank over weekend…” Actually, that’s not true. Though, I think that’s about the only way he could’ve experienced the mixture of jealousy, rage and sadness that was momentarily coursing through my veins.

Joking aside, it has been useful for me to realize that most of the things that I concern myself with will continue on without me and how easy it is to build-up your own little world of pop-culture and politics and even derive great satisfaction from all of it—but none of it is real. It’s not real at least in comparison with the human connections we can make. It’s more important for me to eat a donut and talk with some of the guys in the men’s center than it is for me to have an encyclopedic knowledge of sports. Though, I am planning to get a digital box for our TV in hopes of attaining a slightly more watchable picture, you know, so I can talk sports with the guys and make more meaningful connections…

“Men are beginning to realize that they are not individuals but persons in society, that man alone is weak and adrift, that he must seek strength in common action.” –Dorothy Day

Hope.

2008-08-29T15:24:00.000-07:00

On Friday afternoon I attended the graduation of the students in the SVdP culinary program. It’s a 12-week program that teaches students to cook and hopefully prepares them for employment in other professional kitchens. The graduation was the culmination of a lot of hard work and it was clearly a very emotional and joyous occasion for the students who invited their family and friends and cooked quite a feast. The keynote speaker, Christophe Kubiak, the executive chef at La Bonne Cuisine, was especially well-chosen. He talked about moving to the U.S. from France in 1993 with only the proverbial $2 in his pocket and the idea of a better life.

On a personal note, I found out that Chef Michael, who runs the culinary program, also went to Indiana University. His time there was slightly more star-crossed than mine, swimming with Mark Spitz and also winning a gold-medal. I didn’t get the impression that he’s a die-hard Hoosier basketball fan like me, and he also wasn’t a huge fan of Bloomington with its lack of ocean and all, but the one thing we did agree upon was Nick’s English Hut. For those that don’t know, Nick’s is probably the greatest college bar in all of America, at least in my opinion. We ended up spending a few minutes talking about their Stromboli and he artfully described each ingredient from the crumbled sausage, pizza sauce, cheese and even the bun with meticulous detail in the way only a chef could. Apparently the real key to the Stromboli is the 500-degree oven that they use.

Back to things that matter--on Thursday night I watched Barack Obama’s acceptance speech. It was pretty amazing to see 75,000 people pack Invesco Field just to see a politician. It is clear that he’s a captivating figure and maybe even the “biggest celebrity on the planet,” but I think what makes him truly unique is his ability to inspire the common man. In the men’s center I talked to one guy and he told me that all week he’d been tuning into the convention on his radio. The significance of Obama’s speech forty-five years to the day after Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s “I have a dream” was certainly not lost upon him—it was a promise renewed.

As Jesuit Volunteers I feel like many of us are dropped into positions we’re not prepared for, working with marginalized populations we have little experience with and facing problems that have no easy solutions. It’s easy to get discouraged and overwhelmed when dealing with poverty and homelessness, so it was especially heartening to see the tangible proof that SVdP really is making a difference in the lives of its clients. Chef Christophe Kubiak impressed upon the students that in order to become successful they must do everything in their lives, especially cooking, with passion. Not all of the students are going to become executive chefs, but the very fact that it is now a possibility to be explored is inspiring.

I think the biggest lesson I’ve learned so far is that, for staff and clients alike, the value of hope should never be discounted.

Settling in...

2008-08-27T14:23:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I awoke to a knock at my bedroom door, it was my roommate telling me she was leaving for work and that there was a maintenance man fixing a leak in the kitchen ceiling. Fifteen minutes later, I managed to pull myself out of bed and headed for the kitchen to discover a ladder, a shop-vac, and a ceiling that looked completely water-logged and ready to collapse at any moment. And oh yeah, the maintenance man had slipped out the door—apparently this kind of thing was routine for him, you know, nothing a few Bounty paper towels can’t fix.

On the bright side, I’m no longer wondering why the apartment complex constantly smells of urine and “incense”—it’s the sweet smell of mold and probably Asbestos living in harmony with one another as Mother Nature intended.

On Monday I held my first Homeless Court orientation, which will be the first of many throughout the year. It was good to finally get some time to interact with clients and get a get a better understanding of who the program serves. Everyone I’ve talked to so far has been extremely appreciative, with only the occasional complaint that we don’t handle parking tickets, felonies or D.U.I.’s. One woman said to me, “Why don’t you care about the D.U.I. people?” I told her that we do, but that our program doesn’t address that particular legal issue. She wasn’t buying it.

I’ve still been spending time in the men’s center which has been eye-opening in many ways. Things such as checking e-mail and using Mapquest to get directions to a job interview, which many of us now take for granted, can prove to be monumental tasks for some of the men. Also, it can be somewhat startling to see the differences in drop-in clients from day-to-day who drink or use drugs. I’m not completely naïve and it was something that I fully-expected, but never the less, it’s a different experience to have a coherent conversation with a man on Monday and then on Tuesday the same guy’s eyes are glazed over, he’s wearing a sweatshirt un-zipped with no undershirt and he’s talking non-sense and singing love songs.

And now a thought for the week:

Be kind whenever possible. It is always possible. -Dalai Lama

Hello, St. Vincent de Paul

2008-08-21T14:24:00.001-07:00

Hi, my name is Ryan Want and I will be serving as the Homeless Court Coordinator at St. Vincent de Paul for the 2008-09 year. This is the fifth year that SVdP has hired a Jesuit Volunteer to run the program and with a little effort on my part it will also be the fifth year a JV has kept a blog.

I have a degree in journalism and English along with experience working at a newspaper, so this should be the easy part--at least compared to getting over the culture-shock of moving from Boulder, CO to downtown Oakland.

Another challenge my position presents for me is learning how to interact and gain acceptance with the guys that frequent the Champion Guidance Center for Men. I’ve spent quite a bit of time over there during my first week, the center has a place to do laundry, showers to clean up, computers to check e-mail, a phone to make local calls, tables to play games and a big-screen TV to watch movies in the afternoon, so all in all it’s a pretty nice place.

I was also pleased to see that there is a steady stream of coffee in the morning and judging from the elderly-woman who tried to force her way into the center on Wednesday while she yelled “Coffee! Coffee!”--it must be quite good. After one of the guys said, “Woman, what you think you’re doing? This is a men’s center!” and another guy gently bear-hugged her, they agreed to fix her a cup to go complete with cream and sugar.

Last year’s SVdP JV, Mike Tyler, was nice enough to stick around for my first week on the job and show me the ropes, which has been extremely helpful. Throughout the week as I talked with both staff and clients it was abundantly clear that I’ve got some clown-sized shoes to fill.

As for future posts, it’s my goal to keep the blog updated at least once a week with mostly personal reflections and musings about my job, community and experiences here in Oaktown.

I’ll end this first post with a prayer that seems appropriate for starting a new job in a city you’ve never been to before and has really inspired and comforted me over the past week:

MY LORD GOD, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it. Therefore will I trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.

- Thomas Merton, "Thoughts in Solitude"