View From the Homeless Streets

It was Starbucks Sunday at lunch today. Once a month the Sumas Way (near the Super 8) Starbucks provides coffee to the Open Door Church to serve with the lunch the church provides. Not only do we get the high octane of Starbucks but there is lots of coffee for seconds and thirds. On a cool rainy day such as today was, hot coffee puts a nice warm glow in your stomach.

I would be most remiss if I did not mention Cobs Bread and their weekly donation to the Open Door of bakery goods for the sandwiches they make. In particular I must mention the occasional special treat that comes in the form of leftover sweet items mmmmmmmmmmmmm. For an epicurean delight of the baked goods variety I can attest to the tastiness of our local Cobs and to their generosity in giving support to different groups the other six days of the week as well.

Although I must acknowledge that Costco's Kirkland brand of apple caramel pie and shortbread cookies are pretty tasty, especially when hunger has sharpened the appetite and being homeless in the cold and wet weather has your body demanding extra fuel, extra calories, to burn for warmth.

A community often does not see all the little ways that franchisees and corporate citizens contribute to the community not just through big dollar donations but in the day to day, month to month contributions to local groups like the Open Door Seventh Day Adventists who use this generosity in order that there might be a little less hunger stalking the streets and homeless of Abbotsford.

So give Cobs bread a try, the great flavour is well worth the trip and take time to tell them "that homeless guy who writes all those letters and other stuff" said to say thank you for being generous and helping feed the hungry. If you get the chance, tell management at Costco "good job" for giving back to our community.

Swing by the Sumas Way Starbucks and say thank you as a citizen of Abbotsford for being part of the community. You might also want to work into the conversation a suggestion that since that is the favourite Starbucks of "that homeless guy who writes all that stuff" they might want to consider donating a Venti or two a day to fueling his fingers ....

Thank you to these and to all the businesses that give back to the community through their generosity, from homlelessinabbotsford and the many others who benefit from and appreciate their kindness and thoughtfulness.

Have you found yourself forced to stand in the wind and rain at a bus stop you could have sworn use to have a bench and shelter? Your memory may not have been playing tricks on you.

I was into Community Services and noticed as I walked by that people were standing around in the rain. I seemed to recall that when the bus routes changed and the street in front of community services became a transit exchange they had put in benches and shelters.

I was commenting about this over lunch and someone at a nearby table informed me that the city has taken to removing bus benches and shelters to prevent the homeless from seeking shelter there. I am not sure whether any one at City Hall could follow a train of thought far enough to realize it also leaves “the right type” of citizens standing in the cold winter rain.

Don’t want them sleeping on bus benches, in bus shelters, doorways, parks, woods, in neighbourhoods etc? Once we are finished with the bus benches and shelters what next? Clear cutting parks and woods? Bulldozing neighbourhoods?

Instead of wasting time, energy and money trying to drive them away from where you do not want them causing problems for citizens try rational behaviour. Decide where you do want them and put in place the facilities to draw them there.

Because we all know what happens with the best laid plans ….

My conversational kibitzer was unfazed by the city’s actions as he just relocated to one of Jimmy’s Places. Those nice shelters and benches built for advertising by Mr. Patterson. With advertising revenue at stake they are sacrosanct and untouched. So while the average citizen stands in the cold rain the homeless, with a fine eye for economics and human nature relocate to Jimmy’s.

Thank you Mr. Patterson. I do not suppose you could find time in your busy schedule to acquaint our local and provincial politicians with the reality of market forces and human behaviour?

In its continuing quest to attract a better class of clientele, the right sort of people to bestow charity on, the pancake breakfast discontinued showers and had very little in the way of men’s clothing Saturday October 13 while continuing the policy of no longer sending the bus around to give a ride to those in need of a big hot breakfast.

I suppose I could cite scripture and verse about how Christ would feel about this judgment of who is worthy of charity and about denying charity to those in need, but what is the point? It is clear from their actions that the institution that has put on this pancake breakfast for the needy over the past years has become an institution about religion and not about spirituality.

Be clear I have no quarrel with them wanting to reach out to another group of people in need. But my spirituality cries out that this should have been done by adding another pancake breakfast, not denying an established relationship with another group of people, undeniably in need of showers, haircuts, clean presentable clothing and a hearty pancake breakfast.

Anyone in need is “the right sort” to deliver charity to.

I must acknowledge that this is not my writing but that of Fred Johns of Something Cool News (http://www.somethingcool.ca/). it was just such an interesting piece I felt that as well as putting it on the Other People's Words page it needed to be on View From the Street.

In order to remain true to the editorial comment flavour of the page: Oh what we could accomplsih if Abbotsford had such a Mayor!

At first, he’s just another man sitting in the trash. His face is layered in dirt, his clothes are in even worse shape and judging by his choice of associates, he is a man who has truly hit rock bottom. Sitting on a log near Coquitlam River, he is sandwiched between a woman who seems to be constantly twitching and another man who is clearly drunk. And yet something separates this man from his company – his eyes seem slightly more vibrant and for a moment, it seems almost like he doesn’t belong here.

That’s because he doesn’t. (Indeed, does anyone?) This man has a home, an apartment somewhere – or so he says. He admits he used to call this forest home, but those days are behind him. He boasts that he is one of the lucky ones that escaped this life of despair, but has ties here still which brings him back to his former stomping grounds from time to time. But the real surprise comes when he is asked how he got his house. He smiles and then says proudly, “The Mayor got it for me.”

As this conversation is taking place in Port Coquitlam, one naturally assumes it is the Mayor of PoCo that is responsible for helping this man, but that assumption would be wrong. The man explains that it wasn’t Scott Young that helped him out, but the Mayor of a neighbouring city that helped out. “Maxine Wilson helped me,” he says, referring to the Mayor of Coquitlam. Then he adds, scathingly, “She actually cares about people.”

Does she now? I think to myself. It's rare to hear someone who used to be homeless say something nice about politicians, so this indeed something unique. The man seems to suggest that Mayor Wilson is different than other mayors, as evidenced by what she did for him. But I have only this man's word to go on - I've never spoken to the Mayor of Coquitlam. I have a feeling that is about to change.

***

The walls on her office seem to suggest a connection to people. On all sides of the giant desk that Mrs. Wilson sits behind whenever she is actually in her office, are pictures of her surrounded by giant clumps of humanity. In one picture, she is seen smiling with a group of Asians, in other she is seen grinning with her City Council. But perhaps the most telling portrait of Maxine Wilson is the one of her and her daughter as the watched the last election results come in. Her daughter is clasping her hand over her mouth and Maxine is looking on expectantly. It’s a picture a newspaper photographer captured and sent to Maxine who proudly posted it on her wall.

“How old do you think my daughter is?” she asks me as I study the picture closely. She’s a very young-looking girl, with a youthful face that could easily fit into any high school hallway. I venture a guess of sixteen. She laughs. Turns out the young woman is actually in her thirties. “Everyone gets that wrong,” she says.

She sits down in one of the seats that surrounds a small table in the other end of her office. I sit down next to her and begin explaining why I wanted to interview her, which means telling her about the man in the forest. When I had called her the day previous, I had left a message with her secretary that I wanted to discuss “homelessness” and that she could return my call whenever it was convenient. Less than an hour later, my phone rang and it was her.

Right away, she expressed her interest in the interview. “How does tomorrow sound?” she asked me. I was caught off guard, but maybe that’s because I am permanently scarred from my Mary Reeves ordeal. I said that it was fine. “How does 1:30 work for you?” I politely asked if I could bump that up to 2:00. “Sure, that’s fine. Whatever works best for you.”

I couldn’t conceal my surprise and quickly agreed to the interview. A phone call made to Scott Young last week was still not returned (but would be an hour later) and already I had an interview set up with the Mayor of Coquitlam for the next day. And remember, Mrs. Wilson and I had never met, and she had probably never even heard of SomethingCool News. Colour me impressed.
I mentioned Scott Young’s name at the start of the interview, explaining that I had spoken to him many times regarding the homeless problem in PoCo and expressed my view that until any sort of conviction appeared, he deserved the benefit of the doubt. She seemed to agree.

“People are products of their environment,” Wilson said calmly. “Scott’s had a difficult life. He’s a very easy Mayor to work with and remember, I am a woman saying that. He’s got some issues and he has to deal with them.”

What she didn’t agree with so much was PoCo’s policy of dealing with the homeless – i.e., tearing down their camps 85 times so far this year. “What PoCo is facing – and what we face – are residents who are afraid for their safety and are worried that they will be robbed so they phone the City and want something done,” she said. “But the only thing that will ever change it is to change the societal attitudes from being ones that are fear-based to realizing that we all have needs and we all need to support each other.”

Indeed, one resident of PoCo who watched the SCN mini-documentary The Displaced, wrote, “I live in this area and if your going to do a story about this then get all facts straight. The majority of these people are also drug addicts and we as residents are being affected greatly because they break into our homes, vehicles and steal and or vandalize our belongings. Drug deals are made in front of our children and homes. So tell the down side we as residents have to endure in the area; this is a huge problem and they create it!”

Those must the societal attitudes Mrs. Wilson is talking about. PoCo’s solution has been to destroy the camps only to watch them spring up on the other side of the trail. Maxine suggests a different solution: “The way I see we attack this is person by person and find the champions who will spread the word and mobilize so gradually people in the community help each other to be supportive.”

Okay, so I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking this all sounds like another episode of Sesame Street. It’s just another Mayor spouting off a feel-good message about humanity coming together and facing all challenges and blah blah blah. It’s the stuff someone who has never experienced the problem says from their comfy office armchair. I thought that too, but then I remembered that guy in the forest.

“Sure, I know a few people I have helped,” Mrs. Wilson replied when I inquired about this man. “I give suggestions all the time as to who people should connect up with. You know I never intended to get involved with politics, but through my years I have come to know a lot of people form a lot of different agencies.” She chuckles. “My staff always jokes that I am a walking encyclopedia because I know who to connect to what.”

She decides to give me an example. “We just had a family traumatized because their son is a cocaine addict who is facing trial. The mother has two other kids and she wasn’t able to manage her own life or the rest of the family’s and she didn’t know what to do. I know Diane Sowden from the Children of the Streets Society. I gave her Diane’s number and told her to call her and to tell her that she needed help. And she did. The next time I saw her she was beaming and her son was there too. So they are going to help their son and get past all that.”

I ask her if she feels gratified and fulfilled having partaken in such a success story. She doesn’t smile or nod – she just shrugs. “That’s my job,” is all she says and patiently waits for me to ask my next question.

There’s a lot going on in Coquitlam – the problem of homelessness may not be as bad as PoCo’s but it could one day be. It’s for that reason, that Coquitlam is working on getting some churches together to help provide shelter for some of them over the winter months and has a long term plan to lease land from the City to help house women and children who are living on the streets. It’s a place she hopes those who want help will finally be able to get it.

“My idea is not to trap anyone in a cycle of dependency,” she elaborates. “We want to help every person that wants it. We are all co-dependent, symbiotic. We all need each other. Each person should be given the chance to be as resilient and independent as they can manage.”

I tell her about the disturbing information I came across when filming the mini-documentary – that there may be a pregnant woman living in the forest. She counters that she has heard there may as many as forty women living in the woods. About the pregnant woman, she asks, “Who can she learn to trust again and how can she learn to stay together with her family? It doesn’t do us any good to blame anyone – each of us must step up to the plate and take personal responsibility. These people are not numbers. Each has a different story and needs to be supported.”

Like the man in the forest? “That’s right,” she says, again refusing to congratulate herself. So I ask again how it makes her feel to know there is one man who feels he owes Mayor Maxine Wilson something. “It means that one person ahs been able to progress in life,” she responds passively. “But there are many more we need to support. I’m not great. I’m just another ordinary person. There are so many other people out there who are doing good things, much greater than what I am doing. I’m just an average person who as an accident of circumstances ended up being Mayor.”

She paints herself – like the pictures on her wall do – as a woman who is just part of something much larger. “We all need to pull it together,” she continues. “We all need to make sure that everyone is included in our society. Put simply, if you see there needs to be change, change it.” I notice for the first time she looks nothing like a Mayor is supposed to. And then she says, “That’s all of our jobs.”

This comment from a recent newspaper column took me back to a very similar thought I had while reading the editorial pages of all the local papers and finding letter after letter denouncing slots because “they are hard on/bad for the poor”. I was left sadly shaking my head at such blatantly self-serving morally objectionable behaviour.

I do mean to christen as immoral those who are concerned for those in need only when it is convenient or serves their self-interest and ignore those in need when it could inconveniently required effort or even (shudder) some small sacrifice or there is no self-interest to be served by being concerned for the well-being of the poor.

Immorality: something that is a cause or source of suffering, injury, or destruction: the social evils of poverty and injustice (American Heritage Dictionary).

Week in and week out papers were filled with letters about how bad for the poor slots would be, a vast outpouring of concern for the poor to the papers and to council. Before or after the slots debate?

Preciously.