Tuesday, October 30, 2012

Hope For A Home, by Savanah


I have a lot I can talk about. Hollywood has been extremely challenging, eye-opening and important. Just this past week I have dealt with giant, difficult issues that have made me grow in so many directions and have changed the way I view the world. I want to share one story that I got to experience this week that gave me hope and happiness, while also made me question the traditional ways things are always done.
            I met Lonnie (not his real name) on Wednesday when I, along with two co-workers, went to bring him to the DMV to get a California State ID. I never realized how important identification was in a person’s life until I heard about it firsthand. To board a plane, use a credit card, rent a house, get a bank account, go to a bar, buy cigarettes or even get a library card, you need to have some form of identification. I assumed that this was an easy process and most people could simply stop by a DMV and the rest would handle itself. For those who are homeless or those who are in the US illegally, the simple process becomes immensely complex.
            At the DMV, I happened to sit down right next to Lonnie and for about twenty minutes, I was privileged enough to hear Lonnie’s story through his own slurred speech and crooked teeth. He explained that he was a veteran who fought in the Vietnam War. He was a father to two daughters he adopted as babies. He was a husband and an adulterer. He was a friend and a brother. He was all of these things, but who is he now? He considers himself nobody. He is homeless. For many years he slept in the same cardboard box in front of an old building just blocks away from our community house. I don’t know exactly how Lonnie got to this point, but it was a mixture of mental illness, lack of benefits and support from being a veteran and a nasty divorce. Lonnie would say hi to the outreach workers, but would never take in their offers to get shelter or receive services. That all changed on a really lucky day of a street sweep. During these “sweeps” the LAPD clears an area of homeless people and calls in PATH to help advocate for the homeless and help talk them into going into shelter. Otherwise, often, the LAPD will arrest them. It was during one of these days that Lonnie finally felt ready and trusting enough to get into shelter.
            After many months of working with services, receiving medication and working hard with a case manager, Lonnie was on his way to permanent housing. The first big step?An identification card. This card to Lonnie means that he is no longer nobody. He can now prove to others along with himself that he is a person with feelings, emotions, ideas and dreams. This identification card is also the next step towards housing.
            After waiting for about two hours, Lonnie fills out the paperwork and goes up to the front. You can tell he is nervous, but he has three people next to him to support him. It is extremely important that the three of us (A veteran worker, my co-workers and I) are there. It is very obvious that if he would have went alone, treatment would have been very different than when we all were next to him in our PATH shirts. He fills out all the proper paperwork and hands them to the clerk. The clerk look them over and tells us that he needs an official document that is stamped by the VA to be able to give him an ID. We all look sullen, thank him, and start to walk away, thinking, maybe another day. Just then, Lonnie pulls out of his wallet a tiny, shrunk up piece of paper folded multiple times. He opens it up and there he has the exact document stamp and all! The clerk takes it in the back for a long time, comes back and says that they’ll accept it. To boot, he waved the fee. Lonnie had a big smile when he took his ID photo.
            That old building a few blocks from our house that Lonnie slept outside of for so many years is now turning into permanent housing through a partner organization of PATH’s. Lonnie is the first on that list for an apartment.

Monday, October 22, 2012

boundless compassion, by Kendra


i wanted to share a story about one of our guests at MFP.to respect him & his personal life, i will change his name.jimmy is a regular at MFP. always one of the first to line up outside of our gate for afternoon services.23 years old, been without a home & living on the streets for 5 years or so.truly a polite & respectful guy (which we don’t see too often),rarely causing trouble on the dayfloor & always up to chat.i connect with jimmy day one of work & we start talking about life.my life; his.he tells me (a number of years ago) that he’s been hit in the back of the head with a baseball bat & had some brain damage.still suffers from memory loss.unable to work & is in the process of collecting SSI.jimmy’s daily life is something unimaginable for me.the things he sees & feels.we talk abut him feeling like a reject, a loser, a failure.how people pass him on hollywood boulevard & think, what a waste of a person.when he collects SSI for the month, he gives what he can to his homeless friends.many of them older; he respects the elderly who just can’t seem to get themselves out of a rut.much of our time together, i’m a listener.jimmy might be one of the strongest people i’ve ever met, who has more value in this world than he will ever know; because he was made in the image of God & is loved.as he was leaving today; i left him with this, “not everyone in society thinks you’re a waste.not everyone walks by you & thinks you’re a worthless piece of crap.you’re a reminder for me to be kind.you’re one of the least selfish people i know.be safe & know that there is one person in this world who cares about you.” MFP is full of jimmys; young people who feel absolutely worthless in this world.
compassion is not about the healer & the wounded.it’s a covenant between equals.al sharpton always says, “we’re all created equal, but we don’t all end up equal.”

Thursday, October 11, 2012

Robert, by Drew


The name used below has been changed to protect the individual’s privacy.

                I want to tell you the story of a young man named Robert.  Robert is a participant at The Center at Blessed Sacrament, a drop in center for homeless individuals to participate in community groups.  I first met him in a mindfulness meditation group and was quickly intrigued by his strong diction and sensitivity to others as the topic of having a positive attitude in negative circumstances was discussed. 
                Speaking with Robert after the group ended I learned he had been homeless in Hollywood for three months.  Coming from an abusive family in Georgia, he worked hard and achieved much in his young life with little outside support.  He was on a football scholarship at Missouri State University where he was pursuing becoming a medical doctor. 
                However, despite all this accomplishment, Robert still felt unfulfilled and decided to pursue his love of the arts in Hollywood.  Giving away everything he had, he moved to LA with $300 in his pocket.  He wanted what so many like him have come here for: to become an actor.  He later admitted to me that as his plane touched down at LAX and the gravity of his decision fell upon him, he knew he would sleep on the street that night. 
                It is now three months later and Robert is sipping coffee and eating donuts in our homeless care facility.  At 22-years-old and full of potential and ambition, his circumstance bewilders me.  I ask myself, “Isn’t homelessness reserved for the mentally ill, downtrodden, antisocial, unmotivated people?  How can someone like this fall so low?” 
                Robert has invented a theory I like to call Robert’s Hierarchy of Needs.  Unlike Maslow’s, which begins with life’s most fundamental components for contentedness, Robert’s works backwards, peeling away the excess down to what is most essential to be content.  Because he does not have bills to pay, work to be on time to, or money to manage, he is able to live more freely. Without these little human stresses, Robert is actually content in a way he never has been before.  Once all you have to worry about is finding food and shelter, your natural survival instincts take over and keep you alive, he says.
                While Robert is doing all right for now, the dangers of drugs, alcohol, and violence on the street has proven time and time again to be inevitable.  He is currently applying for jobs and searching for avenues to use his artistic abilities. 
                Life in Hollywood proves to be challenging for me as well.  This week, my computer was stolen from our house.  We have also had other major thefts and some illnesses.  But, amidst the hardship, there is a sense of peace.  Maybe I am better understanding my own hierarchy of needs. 
                This city is damaged and in need of healing and I am not sure I can do anything to help it.  But I can at least listen to someone like Robert share his story while he finishes his donut. 
Drew is a current Dweller in Hollywood.  More about the work he and his intentional community are doing: www.facebook.com/DOORHollywoodDwell