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.”
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.”
