Winter Weather on the Streets

By Colleen Sinsky

For the past week, temperatures in Portland have been dipping below freezing each night. Being from Southern California, scraping ice off my windshield in the morning is a pretty exciting battle against Mother Nature, and about as close as I’d prefer to get to the elements at this time of year. This morning as I walked from my car to the JOIN office I passed by a group of our homeless folks huddled outside waiting for our day space to open at 10am. Not that I’m living in luxury as a full-time volunteer, but that stark contrast between our lives continues to blindside me.

While writing this I took a break to catch up with “Adrian” who until recently camped in a beautiful forested area overlooking downtown Portland. When I visited his camp it was summer, and I was amazed at what a secluded and well-kept camp he kept. Talking about winter there though, he said “It just sucks. I had to use about four sleeping bags and a bunch of quilts to be able to sleep. As soon as I woke up, I’d high-tail it to a warm bus.” Adrian got his sleeping bags from organizations around town, including JOIN who receive donations of warm gear to pass out during winter. Lately, Quinn and Lio and I have taken the van out downtown to give sleeping bags and blankets to people sleeping on “the 2 C’s- Cardboard and Concrete” during these chilly nights. Adrian is now living in an apartment and is really appreciating being indoors this winter, but we could always use donations of warm blankets and sleeping bags for the many people still sleeping outside.

Cold temperatures make the experience of living outside exponentially more uncomfortable, and at times dangerous. According to a 2008 survey by Portland’s Bureau of Housing and Community Development, the Vulnerability Index, 14% of homeless individuals in Portland had medical issues related to cold exposure. During severe winter weather, the county opens emergency warming shelters operated by the Red Cross that will accept anyone (and pets) for the night. According to 211info “The criteria used to determine a Severe Weather Alert and the corresponding opening of Red Cross emergency warming centers is: A low temperature predicted at or below 22° F, or three or more nights predicted at or below 25° F.” I imagine I’d still be pretty uncomfortable spending hours on end outside in weather outside of this when the usual warming shelters are full.

We’re all lucky right now that at least this unusually cold snap is a dry one. Unfortunately this won’t be the case all winter, and it won’t be long before we’re dealing with ice storms and snow- when tarps become a lifesaving resource on the streets.

This Year's First Immersion

I just had my first immersion. I hosted a group from Newberg, Oregon called GodSong Church. The group was great and super fun. They brought their own icebreakers for us to all do together! I was impressed by how open the kids were to letting the immersion affect them. And they were really into the things I said. I was an expert in their eyes; I am not used to that since I feel like there is still so much I don’t know about the city and all the services it has to offer. In all, the immersion consisted of 13 people, 1-middle schooler, 8-high schoolers, and 4 leaders.

I arrived at JOIN with Carolyn, the house coordinator. She decided to come on my first immersion with me because she also felt a need to learn more about the social support in Portland.

7:00pm rolled around and GodSong Church arrived a little early for the immersion. They came in and unpacked their gear while I finished printing the last of the journals. The first thing they asked is if they could do their own icebreakers with us and if Carolyn and I would like to participate. I was floored. I went for it! Who wouldn’t?

After the game, I led the group through a reflection. Asked them to define “homeless.” The discussion ended up being more fruitful than I had hoped! The group could not come up with a definition. They realized that they didn’t know as much as they thought they knew and that even trying to define the word homeless is more difficult than it sounds. I let them journal and have free time for the rest of the night.

I woke up at 5:30am. The group was already up and rearing to go (that made me really excited). We had coffee, they did a morning reflection, and we left to go on the MAX downtown to eat at Blanchet House. Blanchet serves 3 meals a day, 6 days a week. It is one of the only places that serves food on Saturdays (there are a few more too). The food that Blanchet gets is pretty awesome, it is all either donated or they grow it. Blanchet serves an average of 250-350 plates of food each meal. Each meal lasts for 1 hour. Between 700 and 1,000 plates of food every day.

Blanchet also has a transitional housing program. The building has 25 apartments above the kitchen that is filled with men, 4 months at a time, who are trying to recover from drug or alcohol addictions and find stable housing or simply just trying to get their feet on solid ground. Those men work and sustain the kitchen. Here is what the building looks like:

the outside

the inside

The food is really good, especially when you realize that sometimes they serve 300+ plates in 1 hour. So, I brought the group here to eat with other folks. It hit them hard when they realized that hundreds of people flock from all over Portland and otherwise every single day, at early hours in the morning just to eat breakfast. And we even had bus tickets to get there, which is something that everyone cannot claim. They reflected upon it afterward and it was one of the more memorable parts of the immersion.

Afterward, we got a tour of the social services in Old Town. There are places where people can get clothes, meals, TB cards, free alcohol/drug treatment, more meals, more clothes, showers, free laundry service, shelter beds, bus passes, the works. It was immensely helpful for me to see all the social services also. The tour was led by a man named Larry who was previously homeless since his parents died when he was 5 years old. 11 years ago, JOIN housed him and he has been in permanent housing since. He decided that he needed to give back to JOIN, so he has been leading tours on the immersions since. I asked him if he was still interested in leading the tours when I just started out as the coordinator. His answer, “Are you kiddin?! I am going to do this till the day I die.” He is also a social activist. He always petitions and tries to get more women shelters and public bathrooms downtown. It was great experiencing the tour from someone who accesses those services. It also helps to break down some of those invisible barriers between people living on the streets and participants of the immersions.

After the tour, I had the group split up into groups of four or so. I gave each person 1 dollar and a sheet of scavenger hunt questions. Things like, “you are looking for a bed tonight but none of the shelters will let you in unless you have a TB card, where would you obtain one.” The scavenger hunt was intended to get the group to talk with people who are living on the streets and strike up conversations, and hopefully, to break down some misconceptions. They were to use their $1 for lunch. Most of them went back and ate at Blanchet House. Some went to the Union Gospel Mission and had lunch. Others combined their money and went to a store to buy something to share. One thing I thought was interesting. Everyone who didn’t use their dollar had full meals and were feeling very satisfied. The people who used their dollar at the store hardly ate anything. Four people shared an apple, a bag of chips, and an iced tea. It was a good discussion topic.

After the scavenger hunt, we went out to Dignity Village which is located right next to the State Correctional Facility, the airport, and a composting site. Dignity Village is a dwelling area that has been defined by the city for people who are homeless. They are not allowed to build “permanent” structures because then the village would have to be up to fire code. So all the people have constructed these shack structures.

We had a tour of the place and watched a video of its history. This place is fascinating. It is really far from downtown, but for some people, it is their only place to live. So, public transportation is a big deal for the folks living there.

There are about 60 people who live in the village. It was good for the group to see how a completely self-maintained community can be peaceful and successful.
Afterward, we came back to JOIN to have dinner with some of the homeless community. I invited a couple regulars who come to the house often. They came to be in conversation with the kids on the immersion and to share a meal. Meals tend to break down those invisible barriers and encourage free discussion among people. The night was great. The three folks told their stories over a spaghetti dinner and the young people said they were touched by the experience and by hearing what actual people have to go through on a day to day basis. Stories are powerful especially when they are full of pain and sorrow.

After dinner, we had a reflection and I asked them some questions to get them really thinking about what they saw. Altogether, it was a huge success. The leader of the group even did this extended affirmation circle where he listed the things that he loved about each person. It was really endearing!

Later, I got this email from the leader of the GodSong group:

Hey Joe,
Our group had such an amazing time. Thank you so much for the card. We had such a good time and the kids told so many people that I have had many come up to me wanting to do an immersion themselves. These would be all new people. You in for a round 2? Thanks good sir!
Blessings,
Marcus

I am happy to hear they want more!

-Joe Clark (Immersion Coordinator)

Rest in Peace Lordian Cross

By Colleen Sinsky

Last month one of our JOIN friends who had recently moved off the streets passed away after a long battle against chronic health problems. Lordian was a double-amputee who strongly valued independence and refused to cave into the difficult circumstances life had handed to him.

I wish I’d had the honor of having known Lordian years ago. While our lives only briefly shared an intersection I am so grateful for the time we did get to share.

I was introduced to Lordian by Lio, who had met him recently camped out under a bridge downtown. In all of the chaos and desperation that often accompanies homelessness, Lordian was a beacon of hope and calm. He was extremely well-spoken and well-read. I’d been working with him on getting a blog started, and he planned on going back to school to become a paralegal. He was actually supposed to have been the “guest blogger” here this week but instead I’ll share the impact Lordian had on me.

Lordian was one of those friends whom I felt genuinely happy when he name came up on my caller ID. His outlook on life and openness with his struggles and joys were insights that I always felt honored to share. The Friday before he passed away, I was at home, sick in bed and I gave Lordian a call. He was also sick in bed in his studio at the Bud Clark Commons, and dealing with pain that made my cold seem like nothing. We talked for half an hour- a rarity for me because I usually use any excuse to keep my phone conversations as brief as possible. But Lordian had a way of speaking that skipped over shallow chatting and got to issues of life that would open your heart and even restore a bit of your faith in the world. He was hopeful and loving, despite everything the world had thrown at him. He’d talk about the struggles his neighbors and friends were going through and how much he felt for them. At one point I asked him “How do you do it Lordian? How do you stay so optimistic with everything that you have to deal with?” His answer was along the lines of how impossible it is to compare any two persons’ struggles and how we all come equipped our own set of tools for dealing with life. He’d just learned to tap into his and was able to see the beauty beyond the pain.

The morning I stopped by Lordian’s apartment and was told he had died, I had been planning on telling him the good news that we’d received a grant that could help with his educational expenses in going back to school. Lio had just gotten him a pretty swanky electronic wheelchair to replace his broken manual one and Lordian was planning on starting a community Bible study for his neighbors in his building. His friendly nature and ability to reach out to others made an impact on the whole staff of his building. We’ll all remember Lordian Cross fondly, and I hope to learn from his example of resiliency and optimism.

Lordian was a big fan of poetry, especially from the Harlem Renaissance. Here’s one of his favorite poems that reads oddly appropriately now. (Courtesy of poets.org)

The Weary Blues
by Langston Hughes
Droning a drowsy syncopated tune, Rocking back and forth to a mellow croon, I heard a Negro play. Down on Lenox Avenue the other night By the pale dull pallor of an old gas light He did a lazy sway . . . He did a lazy sway . . . To the tune o' those Weary Blues. With his ebony hands on each ivory key He made that poor piano moan with melody. O Blues! Swaying to and fro on his rickety stool He played that sad raggy tune like a musical fool. Sweet Blues! Coming from a black man's soul. O Blues! In a deep song voice with a melancholy tone I heard that Negro sing, that old piano moan-- "Ain't got nobody in all this world, Ain't got nobody but ma self. I's gwine to quit ma frownin' And put ma troubles on the shelf." Thump, thump, thump, went his foot on the floor. He played a few chords then he sang some more-- "I got the Weary Blues And I can't be satisfied. Got the Weary Blues And can't be satisfied-- I ain't happy no mo' And I wish that I had died." And far into the night he crooned that tune. The stars went out and so did the moon. The singer stopped playing and went to bed While the Weary Blues echoed through his head. He slept like a rock or a man that's dead.

Not all rainbows and apartment keys...

By Colleen Sinsky

Most of what I get to do at JOIN is uplifting or fun or at least a new challenge- but occasionally it’s just plain depressing. (And no one told me to just blog about happy things.) Quick excerpt from my morning spent with one of our challenging fellows that exemplifies the emotions that I believe a lot of our folks are going through. I was frustrated that this guy who I’m trying to work with who was ..yet again.. drunk. We talked for a while and eventually accomplished what we were trying to get done today, after which my friend said “I’m sorry I’m so loaded, it’s just that if I’m not loaded I feel like killing myself, so I don’t have much of a choice. You don't understand.”

I can't think of anything to say to close this one out. He's right, I don't understand.

The JOIN Way

By Colleen Sinsky

Many conversations in the office make some allusion to the nebulous “JOIN Way.” It’s a sort of undefinable set of principles that guides the work we do. I’m new, and underqualified to try to explain what exactly the JOIN Way is, but it’s a beautiful thing to get to experience. It both encompasses, and goes beyond our mission and values statement and reaches towards a holistic understanding of how, and why we do what we do. Even when we’re overwhelmed by audits, communication frustrations, funding limitations and the sheer volume of individuals experiencing homelessness in Portland, the JOIN Way exists like a guiding spirituality to carry on the mission. The shared humanity we foster in each relationship is the product of nearly two decades of dedication by volunteers, donors, the board, the outreach, retention and admin staff, and our folks who have allowed us into their lives.

I’m not the biggest Star Wars fan, but I googled a definition of “The Force” feeling like there’s some comparison to be made between the mentor Obi-Wan Kenobi and Lio, who’s spent the last year teaching me the ways of JOIN. According to Wookiepedia (The Star Wars wiki. No joke.) the light side of the Force is defined as being "aligned with compassion, selflessness, self-knowledge and healing, mercy and benevolence." Sounds familiar! Lio just left for a well-deserved sabbatical, leaving the rest of the office scrambling around to stay on top of his gigantic caseload. Earlier this week he and I went out to our favorite pizza place for lunch and I voiced how worried I was about him being gone, and about the possibility of me having to have a say in whether or not to continue with financial assistance for some of his folks. Maybe it’s my background in economics or having worked briefly for another large non-profit, but I find myself often wanting to take a more conservative approach to continuing financial support. Lio’s smiling Samoan answer was the perfect understanding of the JOIN Way: “Just remember compassion towards the person in front if you and you can never do wrong.”

Year Two...

By Colleen Sinsky

I think I’m somewhere around my one year anniversary of working at JOIN. I’m just starting to experience annual events for the second time, and it’s all starting to feel a bit more like a comfortable- and of course chaotic- pattern. I transitioned last month from my full-time volunteer position being supported by the Jesuit Volunteer Corps Northwest to the United Church of Christ, but my “Outreach Assistant” position at JOIN stays the same. It’s hard to convey how fortunate I feel to get to spend two years at such a wonderful organization that has let me learn so much about the world of homelessness and about myself. I’m not sure that I’ve gone public with this confession yet, but until I started at JOIN I was pretty wary of those homeless people. I had very little experience relating with people who lived so different from myself, and I probably put more stock into stereotypes than I should. Obviously, my worldview has been rocked by the past 12 months and I’ve had the opportunity to totally revamp how I thought about and related to urban poverty. I’m excited to see where the next year takes me. I know that I’m going into this alongside the incredibly supportive and fun JOIN staff and I’m confident that we’re all going good places together. Here we go, year two!!

My Year at JOIN

By Lindsay Rundquist

I have been putting off writing this post, as the topic is encompassed perfectly in the cliché “words cannot describe”. We’ll start with JOIN as a culture. The individuals on staff here are some of the most compassionate, accepting, hilarious, FUN people I’ve ever met. You would be hard pressed to find another more unique group of human beings who are so good at what they do.

JOIN’s philosophy is “we don’t have all the answers”, which is a tough find in the social work world. Every day at JOIN was a matter of reflection—and a lot of the time you’re wrong! This is what makes it beautiful though—all of us are trying to figure life out, whether we’re on the streets or in a position of “authority”. We’re humans working with humans.

In that, there was obviously a lot of conflict to deal with on a daily basis. In a way, I liked getting my hands a little dirty and trying to work through these conflicts because it’s real. People come in to the day space and their daily—their minute to minute stressors from the street, explode over the peanut butter jar. And so really, we can intervene and maybe stop a fist fight from occurring in that moment, but there is little or no affective intervention on the street.

One of my most profound moments occurred very early on, when I had several extra tickets to the symphony. Daniel(JOIN’s Immersion Coordinator) and I offered the tickets to a few of our folks. When we walked to our seats that night we saw “James” already sitting down, reading the program. We hadn’t really expected him to come, but certainly hoped he would! It was the Oregon Symphony’s Christmas show, and during the final number I looked over to see James’ eyes watering, and a “smile the size of Texas” on his face(as one of our old time regulars would sayJ). As we were walking out amidst the ridiculous display of wealth and class, I asked James if he had enjoyed the show(as frankly, I had found a few of the pieces amazingly boring). He began to cry, said it was wonderful, gave us hugs, and jetted out the side door.

I realized then that I had invited him to a nice, warm musical evening, and then sent him back into the winter streets to sleep. This was a tough thing to grapple with, as I’ve grown up going to the symphony and not thinking twice about it. Now when I travel downtown for a show, that experience with James is very much present. Doing outreach with Quinn and Lio in that area also has caused me to take a look around when I’m heading to a bar on Saturday night, and that amazing view of downtown from the Marquam Bridge holds different meaning. I learned later that the other individual I invited to the symphony showed up outside the Shnitz, saw the crowd, was keenly aware of his homeless status, and left.

The thing I will remember most about JOIN though, is how much I laughed—how much fun I had. Through the chaos, emotionality, and authority I often had to exert, I just had a good time! Some pretty outrageous things happened in the day space, and it wasn’t hard to keep a sense of humor about it all.

The friendships I formed at JOIN, both with staff and our folks, will be with me the rest of my life, along with the wealth of knowledge I gained from this invaluable experience. JOIN has certainly rocked my views of social work, relationships, and how I view life, so the transition from here will be a little rocky! But in the best way possible. Thanks JOIN! I love you! :)