Housing First Model: what you are not being told

Have you heard of the term Poverty Pimping? Its a term in Tucson to describe people who enrich themselves while keeping those they serve suffering; stuck in a revolving door. This may be a shelter anon profit, or a lobbyist group. One friend that is close to me, states how Ann Rand calls such people looters. For example you have the tucson pima collaboration to end homelessness. They receive $125 million a year to end homelessness, thus made up of mental health organizations, homeless shelters, etc. 85% of those working own a house, a car, the people running such organizations have several houses and several cars. The Dallas Fort Worth version gets $195 million each year. mean while 7800 people remain homeless in pima county, 5000 in Dallas. In Tucson there are 400 beds available and the P.T.C.H., refers people they cant help to a Downtown Park.

Meanwhile laundry services, showers, transportation and bathrooms are not provided to those living outside. The newest sale is the housing first model, that according to reports is leading states like Utah to en homelessness by 2015, months aways. According to other sources, outreach workers have never seen more than now. This housing first model places those who qualify (disabled, vets, addicts, domestic violence victims, etc) into an apartment, and given a social worker and other team members to assist them in their success. To the casual observer, this seems awesome, and the math shows its cheaper than criminalizing and herding them from one place to another. 

In fact, the simple things like a bus pass, furniture, cooking utensils, toiletries and laundry are still not provided. Most homeless who are dressed based on donations, still be unemployable, because the clothes are faded, worn, or don't match causing them to be seen as unprofessional. Many times they are moved where other homeless hang out, where resources are easy to get, placing them in housing miles away, offers them a loss in social relationships, and farther from the places where they gathered food, work, showers, hygiene, etc. To get anywhere they must walk from one side of town to another. Maybe easy for you or me, but for a special needs client, it can be a death sentence , especially in the Arizona Desert heat. When you are on the streets, who easily in your sleep know the difference between good sounds and bad, no sounds is weary, this changes in an apartment. You have perfect quietness, no good sounds no bad sounds. An uneasiness develops, the other thing is you remember your friends that are still suffering, outside, unprotected by the elements. You feel like you are turning your back on them, rather than making it easier for the next, you have followed the rest who received help and turned your back, Many who aid their friends get evicted as having someone sleep over is a violation of the program. In the end, we see many gaps in the new housing first pitch, we can see why many are not making it thru.

Meanwhile the guy who doesn't fit a qualifying diagnosis is either left on the street with no one to help him or bullied by the organizations to say they are something they are not. We as a society have created special concessions to help those with special needs, but the person who needs and wants work, is turned aways. This being your hidden homeless. Each night the employees head back to their warm homes, knowing they changed little. In places like Oregon, Washington, San Jose, Utah, Tucson, Madison and other cities the homeless are fighting back, they are getting involved in direct actions, setting up their own tent city's, tiny home villages and other things to aid the homeless ran by the homeless on budgets of $15-50K a year, and making a much bigger dent in the homeless population than the Poverty Pimps that now run social assistance programs around the country , charging tax payers more and more. 

Ibrahim Bilal Mubarak founder of Right to Dream in Portland, states home is where your heart is, if you call people homeless, you call people heartless. At Safe Park last, year, nobody there or in any shelter had blankets because of the government shut down. We had thousands of people unable to stay warm, Safe Park Co-Founders Jon McLane and myself, did a social media blanket drive, supporters Like the Tribe Tucson, Maria Rice, and Danielle Mireté answered the call delivering blankets to hundreds of men, women and children. This year we are organizing two events . https://www.facebook.com/events/313373248861907/ known as the Homeless Backpack Challenge, and the Central City Assembly Thanksgiving Dinner. http://www.signupgenius.com/go/9040e4ca4ab2fa20-thanksgiving. Activism is the place where all voices will be heard, and where ideas become direct action. Its the place of social justice, which is the opposite of poverty. Where all donations go to the people who need it the most, and nobody is hoarding for them selves, where no one enriches off the suffering of others. Thank you for reading , please subscribe.

day of a homeless activist

This morning I woke up, to muscle pain, not enough cushion and had slept on my arm, making it all numb. Out side I could here the drizzle of the rain that had fell. Still rolling off the roof. Mosquito had grown by numbers. A good 30 mosquito staring down at me like a t-bone steak hot off the grill. I walk out and down the side of the property to the porta pottie. I notice all fellow members had already left. I gather my things and Leave. I walk a block south to the South side Presbyterian Church , for a pear of clean clothes and breakfast. There our also showers offered on Mondays and Fridays. I quickly am spotted by a few friends. One is a homeless mechanic, works low wages and helps with the family business. The other is one of the coolest people you would meet on the streets. I also see more and more, most wet, talking about the wet and adventurous nite. For breakfast they have BBQ chicken, mac and cheese, cheese enchiladas, salad and soup. They Also offer water, juice and coffee(the crowd favorite).

The building has a old southwest flair, you walk inside and it seem like a much older time period. Litely coated, but rough to the touch. There are a few tall rugged crosses, where you can imagine the pain of anyone placed there. Jesus a peaceful man, homeless, preaching love. A good reason why the homeless may not be liked, because some great men in that circumstance really rippled the system. On the outside bold statements of where the church stands on issues, as if warning those who seeking a friend or an enemy to keep a distance from. Any many ways my friends and I are in safe refuge.

Doug is one of the leads, the ministry is offered threw the use of volunteers, many are those on the street. Either wanting to be part of something positive, trying to maintain a resource, or community service ordered by the court.

I have a few conversations, a few are about where our Safe Park Dream Center stands. I then head out on my way back to the dream center. I am met at the gate by another person staying there. He offers to only let me in if I do his chores. I tell him no, and thats not the way to use authority. He goes his way. I sit there for 30 minutes, until another with a key lets me in. I put my stuff away and head out.

I walk to the downtown library, this is a 15 minute walk. Along the way I see a friend heading in the same direction. He is in a rough spot. Upon getting to downtown, he is doing better and heads a different way. I get to the library, quickly ambushed. One person needing a phone, one needing help with id, another needing someone to talk too, because kicking a habit is too much. Another hasn't ate in a few days. Another needs to know about housing, another needs to find a place to hide her stuff.

Online and in the library, I check my email, Facebook. Nothing new or surprising. I did see some funny stuff, I shared a few articles. I want to post a blog, got a few ideas but writers block is in high drive. I then head over to fourth ave, a road that is the party in this city, there another community of homeless live. I am heading up to meet with them, see what their needs are, their current struggles, maybe we can come up with solutions.  Eerie part is the sidewalks are empty, even the nicks and cranny's where they camouflage to hide in the crowds. I see one, see is getting ready to set up shop, she normal sells prints of her art there on the sidewalk, he significant other Mike, is down the way, playing those old classic rock songs like no other. A few more snacking on some ice cream at dairy queen.

Then up ahead, some cops lights on, surrounding some homeless homies on the sidewalk. It appears they have some train hoppers, they are conversing, joking with them running their identifications, asking them their business here and where they came from. They are dirty, patches on their clothes, backpacks all bundled up , instruments in hand. They write them tickets for sitting on the sidewalk, they let them know they can play music but need to get a permit, they can play music but they have to stand up and do it. The can play music but not in front of these businesses.
I continue on, I see a business owner hand out some dog food to some homeless homies with pets, I see a elderly man, who should have no problem getting elderly assistance, tell me he hopes for a bigger crowd so he doesn't have to spend another night in the rain. His sign says jokes for a buck, songs free to give luck.
I see another, he is cleaned up, he has new clothes, a girl on his arm. He explains after 5 years he finally got housing, he is doing good, and now trying to start a business with help from his family. He humbly, gives credit to us co founders at safe park, spending time with him, to see what he needs, and being there without judgement, so he has a place to be when his choices weren't the best.

I spend some time with him, loving the good news, makes everything worth it. The nights in the rain, the days in jail, the blistering Arizona sun. I get a call, and meet that person for lunch, from there we go to a meeting, then to meet with a sponsor. Then online to do paper work.
This is the day of a homeless activist, a day of what others call a cultural worker. Welcome!

Love and hate for rain.

You are on the streets, enjoying life with what you can. Health, liberty to travel as far as your feet or limited funds will allow, decent health, and friendship. Material items are all but void, leaving you with a pair or two of clothes, a backpack, maybe a tent or a blanket if available.

You have heard talk about the possibility of rain, this excites you as its a break from the hot sun, that already burnt your skin all summer. At the same time you hope its not at night, knowing that you sleep with no ceiling. All of a sudden, everyone's life line phone goes off, warning that the rumored storm is minutes away. Your choices is under a bridge, under a building Ramada, or maybe a buddy's house.

The bridge may turn into a waterfall, the Ramada may lead to a trespassing charge, the buddy works for a living and may not be home or may have company. You got minutes.

The rain comes it fees cool on your skin, the air is refreshed , easier to breathe now that the smog is removed. You got a natural shower, the universe has you taken care of. The wetter you get, the more uncomfortable. Feeling soggy, cold and no way to stop it, your blankets are a wet sponge, mosquito arrive out of nowhere. Humid you feel, you ty to slumber, but water travels across your face, the rain drops fall in your ear.

Maybe you risked the Ramada you are dry, but you don't know for how long, you see bike cops on the horizon, a good paranoia comes across your mind, and your nerves are on alert. Worse case scenario, you got a way out of the rain, a nice walk back to the area you stay in, court dates and community service. They come over they start casual conversation, they joke a little, then they ask if they can see your id. They ask if you got warrants, that ask what you are doing here. You are sure whether telling them you are trying to sleep and if can leave you be, will go over well.

No matter the choice you make, the next day the people who work in the area don't notice, how you have changed, they do notice they see alot less people.Your stuff is still soaked, its not warm enough to hang dry, you now have to consider, whether to start finding new gear or risk, mold, mildew ,etc. Is this the safety net in place, that america has to make sure, all of its people are secure? 

A friend of mine named Robert, believes most people are truly educated on why homeless live and do the things they do. He is in the process of putting together a leaflet that can be handed out, giving answers to the top 11 questions homeless persons get. 

In a place where we spend billions of dollars on infrastructure, shouldn't the least of us be able to have access to shelter?