Thursday, December 25, 2008
Thursday, December 18, 2008
I made it...to Christmas
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
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
Friday, December 12, 2008
Another Friday Blog.
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.
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.
Friday, December 5, 2008
Thankscoffee
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.
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.
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