Herb met me at my office for an early morning meeting. Both of us were requiring coffee before we could really get started so I led him next door to Grace House, our shelter for men, down a hallway and into the kitchen where there were steaming pots of the morning elixir.
When we entered, there was a tall slender, feminine black man who was washing the dishes left over from breakfast. He was humming and singing to himself as we came into the room. Long straight black hair fell upon his shoulders and the eye liner on his face accentuated his large brown eyes. He wore a fluffy pink bath robe and matching bunny slippers.
"Good Morning Mr. Elliott," he sang.
Herb stopped dead in his tracks. I replied with my own good morning wish and poured two cups of steaming coffee.
"Have a good day Mr. Elliott," he sang as we left.
When we got into the conference room and sat down, Herb took one sip of coffee staring at me as he did so.
"Was that a man?" he asked.
"For the moment," I replied.
That was several years ago. Last night I was at the Don & Kaye Kole Center, a home for women with addictions. The Ruby Show was filming an episode with the ladies who live there, including one transgender person who, as far as I know, is the only Union Mission resident to successful complete Grace House to move into a center for women.
Anyway, I greeted all of the excited ladies who were thrilled at the prospect of being on national television. Ruby entered and seemed like most everybody else and they all got along and cooked. The only difference is that there were television cameras and lights shinning on everything.
I couldn't help but marvel at this work. I see transformations of all kinds taking place every day. Some stand out much more than others. But I cannot think of a happier way to end a happy week with watching people celebrate the fact that they are finally becoming who they want to. I hope that all of us get to do as much.
Friday, January 8, 2010
Thursday, January 7, 2010
The Long and Winding Road
Do you know what it like to work on something for years, hoping that it will happen, but it never seems to?
Still you keep at it only to encounter frustration after frustration, road block after road block, villains who turned into hero’s and hero’s who turned into villains, and…well you get my point. It becomes the long and winding road.
The end of this particular road happens today with the grand opening of Union Mission’s Dutch Town campus. It is our masterpiece! A 48-unit apartment complex for homeless people with disabilities began moving in right before Christmas.
It is beautiful, is also home to a health clinic, behavioral health services, oral health care, case managers, and other staff to help people who have never been able to do so, maintain their housing.
To hell with homeless shelters, this is the way that it should be. Dorothy was right! There is no place like home.
Earlier this week I was standing there talking to Keller Deal and Letitia Robinson, planning today’s grand opening, standing in the community center which has walls of windows that let in natural light, looking out over the lush manicured lawn. A city bus pulled into the curbed area that had been cut for it. The doors open and we watched a mother and her two small children climb down the streets onto the white sidewalk.
“Oh, they’re residents,” Letitia exclaimed.
They made their way into the community center where we were standing. Mom had her daughters sit on the new leather sofa while she took care of business.
We resumed our conversation and in the next few minutes I was walking in solitude towards my car. Climbing in, I absentmindedly decided to take one last drive through the entire complex before we turned it over to those who will live here. It had been mine for these past four years. Now it was time for it to become what it was always intended to be. Home!
So as I made my way towards the last quad of apartments, there was mom, unlocking the door to her brand new apartment, and leading her children in by holding there hands. One started jumping up and down before hurling herself over the door. I stopped the car and smiled as I observed the scene.
And the long and winding road, with all of the frustrations and delays, was worthwhile.
Still you keep at it only to encounter frustration after frustration, road block after road block, villains who turned into hero’s and hero’s who turned into villains, and…well you get my point. It becomes the long and winding road.
The end of this particular road happens today with the grand opening of Union Mission’s Dutch Town campus. It is our masterpiece! A 48-unit apartment complex for homeless people with disabilities began moving in right before Christmas.
It is beautiful, is also home to a health clinic, behavioral health services, oral health care, case managers, and other staff to help people who have never been able to do so, maintain their housing.
To hell with homeless shelters, this is the way that it should be. Dorothy was right! There is no place like home.
Earlier this week I was standing there talking to Keller Deal and Letitia Robinson, planning today’s grand opening, standing in the community center which has walls of windows that let in natural light, looking out over the lush manicured lawn. A city bus pulled into the curbed area that had been cut for it. The doors open and we watched a mother and her two small children climb down the streets onto the white sidewalk.
“Oh, they’re residents,” Letitia exclaimed.
They made their way into the community center where we were standing. Mom had her daughters sit on the new leather sofa while she took care of business.
We resumed our conversation and in the next few minutes I was walking in solitude towards my car. Climbing in, I absentmindedly decided to take one last drive through the entire complex before we turned it over to those who will live here. It had been mine for these past four years. Now it was time for it to become what it was always intended to be. Home!
So as I made my way towards the last quad of apartments, there was mom, unlocking the door to her brand new apartment, and leading her children in by holding there hands. One started jumping up and down before hurling herself over the door. I stopped the car and smiled as I observed the scene.
And the long and winding road, with all of the frustrations and delays, was worthwhile.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Home Again
I can still remember the smile on the face of the captain of the Army of Salvation. He was touring me around the newly renovated shelter facility and I must admit that it was impressive enough. Massive rooms that could accommodate almost one hundred people. Smaller rooms that could accommodate twenty. A handful of rooms which two would share. Fine offices, a small waiting room area where people would be greeted by someone behind glass after they had entered a steel door. I congratulated him and left.
A warehouse for human beings, I thought to myself. Even if it did have fresh coats of paint.
I've never been a fan of shelters. No matter how much you dress them up you stack as much misery into them as will fit. Then you tell yourself that you are doing something for homeless people.
Union Mission has one shelter now. Grace House, a 32 bed facility. We have consistently downsized it through the years and I very much look forward to the day when we do away with it entirely. Grace House was being built when I was hired or I would have done my best to talk them out of it.
Back in 1990 we built the Magdalene Project, a shelter for women and children. It had 8 individual family room and a small shelter that could accommodate 16. The family rooms were a huge success in helping families remain ... well ... families! We did away with the shelter after only a few years.
Also in 1990 we build Phoenix Place, an emergency shelter for people with HIV+/AIDS. It had no dormitory. Everyone had their own room. I remember once when my friend Terry Ball was visiting. Terry was the head of homeless programs for the state of Georgia at the time.
After touring Phoenix Place, he told me, "You know Mike, what makes this place different from St. Jude's Place in Atlanta, is that everyone here has made their room their own. They decorate it as if it their home."
Finally, I told myself! If we're going to end homelessness, we will do so by equiping people with the skills to successfully live in a home. Shelters don't do this. Shelters throw people out during the day and herd them like cattle at night. Most throw a blanket of religion on top so people can get saved several times each week.
There are some exceptions. My friend Vince Smith at the Gateway Center in Atlanta, for example, where they have created a super shelter, overlaying it an array of services that successfully respond to the reasons that people are there in the first place. It is kind of like hospital for homeless people.
Back in 1993 I wrote a book called "Why the Homeless Don't Have Homes and What to do About it." In it, I advocated for super shelters like the one that Vince runs and for much of the 1990s we implemented one on our Fahm Street campus.
Over the years however, I have come to beleive that everyone should have their own room. Or their own apartment. Or their own house. Because to end homelessness, everyone must have a home.
There is still plenty of work to do required to keep them housed, but the first step is for everyone to go home again.
This morning at the Breakfast Club, my friend John commented that my friend Trolly Joe had quipped that "none of Mike's people look homeless."
That's the point, right?
A warehouse for human beings, I thought to myself. Even if it did have fresh coats of paint.
I've never been a fan of shelters. No matter how much you dress them up you stack as much misery into them as will fit. Then you tell yourself that you are doing something for homeless people.
Union Mission has one shelter now. Grace House, a 32 bed facility. We have consistently downsized it through the years and I very much look forward to the day when we do away with it entirely. Grace House was being built when I was hired or I would have done my best to talk them out of it.
Back in 1990 we built the Magdalene Project, a shelter for women and children. It had 8 individual family room and a small shelter that could accommodate 16. The family rooms were a huge success in helping families remain ... well ... families! We did away with the shelter after only a few years.
Also in 1990 we build Phoenix Place, an emergency shelter for people with HIV+/AIDS. It had no dormitory. Everyone had their own room. I remember once when my friend Terry Ball was visiting. Terry was the head of homeless programs for the state of Georgia at the time.
After touring Phoenix Place, he told me, "You know Mike, what makes this place different from St. Jude's Place in Atlanta, is that everyone here has made their room their own. They decorate it as if it their home."
Finally, I told myself! If we're going to end homelessness, we will do so by equiping people with the skills to successfully live in a home. Shelters don't do this. Shelters throw people out during the day and herd them like cattle at night. Most throw a blanket of religion on top so people can get saved several times each week.
There are some exceptions. My friend Vince Smith at the Gateway Center in Atlanta, for example, where they have created a super shelter, overlaying it an array of services that successfully respond to the reasons that people are there in the first place. It is kind of like hospital for homeless people.
Back in 1993 I wrote a book called "Why the Homeless Don't Have Homes and What to do About it." In it, I advocated for super shelters like the one that Vince runs and for much of the 1990s we implemented one on our Fahm Street campus.
Over the years however, I have come to beleive that everyone should have their own room. Or their own apartment. Or their own house. Because to end homelessness, everyone must have a home.
There is still plenty of work to do required to keep them housed, but the first step is for everyone to go home again.
This morning at the Breakfast Club, my friend John commented that my friend Trolly Joe had quipped that "none of Mike's people look homeless."
That's the point, right?
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Doing What We Must
As soon as I stumbled into the Breakfast Club this morning and heard the blues blasting over the sound system, I knew that Jodee didn't want to be there today. I can always tell by the music that he is playing. If it's the blues, he doesn't want to work. If it's New Age, he's in a funky place by himself. If it is hard rock-and-roll, he's mad at something. If it's oldies, then its good times.
But today its the blues and while he didn't want to, he was there, showing off his smile, somehow making carrot flavored bacon, and a thousand other culinary delights for those who will order them today.
I settled onto my stool for after grabbing a cup of coffee for myself and the place filled with warmth and good smells. Johnny O came in and did the same. As did Whitley and we bantered and laughed with everyone there which is the way we all start every day. It is a family tradition with a carnival of friends.
Then it was off for my run. The cold here is bitter which is unusual and as I made my way down the beach, I saw that the sun had wrapped itself in a blanket of clouds that it seemed to be having a hard time climbing out of them. Checking the clock on my I-Pod, I could have sworn it to be true that the sun had slept in and was five minutes late rising. The cold had gotten to it to, but here it was rising anyway, doing something that it would rather not be doing but doing it because it is the right thing to do.
And I am off to Union Mission where everyone of our programs is extended beyond capacity as we house as many as we can, treat patient after patient, counsel client after client, and doing all of those things that Scriptures tell us to do. Feeding the hungry, Clothing the naked. Housing the Homeless. Day in and day out. Year after year after year.
There are days when we'd rather be doing other things. Happier things! I have watched many a person collapse under the weight of the never ending need that presents itself at our doors. They tried their best and gave their all, but hearts can only bear so much.
So those of us who remain have found ways to continue feeding our hearts with enough happy things to bear all of the sadness that we must manage day in and day out. For me it is kissing Julie good morning while she still sleeps, coffee at the Breakfast Club and laughing with my friends, saying good morning to the sun as it rises over the ocean, walking Goddess along back river, and then taking this time to think and reflect.
And now it is time to go. As much as I'd rather be doing other things today, it is cold outside and our places our full, and more will come and I have to do the things that I am supposed to do.
But today its the blues and while he didn't want to, he was there, showing off his smile, somehow making carrot flavored bacon, and a thousand other culinary delights for those who will order them today.
I settled onto my stool for after grabbing a cup of coffee for myself and the place filled with warmth and good smells. Johnny O came in and did the same. As did Whitley and we bantered and laughed with everyone there which is the way we all start every day. It is a family tradition with a carnival of friends.
Then it was off for my run. The cold here is bitter which is unusual and as I made my way down the beach, I saw that the sun had wrapped itself in a blanket of clouds that it seemed to be having a hard time climbing out of them. Checking the clock on my I-Pod, I could have sworn it to be true that the sun had slept in and was five minutes late rising. The cold had gotten to it to, but here it was rising anyway, doing something that it would rather not be doing but doing it because it is the right thing to do.
And I am off to Union Mission where everyone of our programs is extended beyond capacity as we house as many as we can, treat patient after patient, counsel client after client, and doing all of those things that Scriptures tell us to do. Feeding the hungry, Clothing the naked. Housing the Homeless. Day in and day out. Year after year after year.
There are days when we'd rather be doing other things. Happier things! I have watched many a person collapse under the weight of the never ending need that presents itself at our doors. They tried their best and gave their all, but hearts can only bear so much.
So those of us who remain have found ways to continue feeding our hearts with enough happy things to bear all of the sadness that we must manage day in and day out. For me it is kissing Julie good morning while she still sleeps, coffee at the Breakfast Club and laughing with my friends, saying good morning to the sun as it rises over the ocean, walking Goddess along back river, and then taking this time to think and reflect.
And now it is time to go. As much as I'd rather be doing other things today, it is cold outside and our places our full, and more will come and I have to do the things that I am supposed to do.
Monday, January 4, 2010
Danicing Through January
The holidays are now over and winter is upon us and even those who choose to sleep outside are looking for warmth and comfort somewhere. This is a dangerous time for many … the old, the exposed, the young … and those of us who try to help these people are busy trying to accommodate as many as we possibly can.
Christmas is over and all during that time it sometimes felt as though everybody in the world cared about what we do at Union Mission as they donated, volunteered, dropped off toys and tried to embody peace on earth and good will towards men. We are into the New Year now and we will have to wait until next Christmas when so many people focus their attention on our work at the same time and with the same passion.
So it is a normal day when we are like everybody else. Our noses are to the grindstone as we focus on the tasks at hand. I find myself cussing the water damage to the roof of the Magdalene Project, our shelter for women and children, and the fact that it is closed until the money can be found to repair the place. In the meantime, 65 women and their children are all doubled up somewhere, or staying on somebody’s sofa, or they are out on the streets. Almost half of the people who are homeless are women and children.
Yet there is also cause for joy and good tidings as the Dutchtown campus has its grand opening this week. The 48-unit apartment complex was built for homeless people living with disabilities. Families began moving in just before Christmas and the celebration of its completion will provide comfort and community to many for years to come.
So the year begins like every year. There are bad things happening and there are good things happening. And they are happening at the same time as they almost always do leaving us challenged to not be torn apart as they tug us in their direction.
And we find ourselves surrounded by good people and some not so good people. We’ll do our best to gravitate towards the good and shy away from the bad. And we will also again come to the realization that in the end we are all in this together and it will be some connection of us is what will get us through. And we will cling to those we love and pray that more of those kinds of people come our way.
In my office is a gift that Sister Pauline O’Brien once gave me. It is an image of a woman gracefully dancing on the ice. One arm is extending high above her head while the other sweeps around her. One leg is lifted and the other is on tip toes as she swirls. The faintest of smiles adorns her face. At the bottom are the words, “When you find yourself on thin ice, you may as well dance.”
So my friends, let’s start this year by dancing shall we? You may as well.
Christmas is over and all during that time it sometimes felt as though everybody in the world cared about what we do at Union Mission as they donated, volunteered, dropped off toys and tried to embody peace on earth and good will towards men. We are into the New Year now and we will have to wait until next Christmas when so many people focus their attention on our work at the same time and with the same passion.
So it is a normal day when we are like everybody else. Our noses are to the grindstone as we focus on the tasks at hand. I find myself cussing the water damage to the roof of the Magdalene Project, our shelter for women and children, and the fact that it is closed until the money can be found to repair the place. In the meantime, 65 women and their children are all doubled up somewhere, or staying on somebody’s sofa, or they are out on the streets. Almost half of the people who are homeless are women and children.
Yet there is also cause for joy and good tidings as the Dutchtown campus has its grand opening this week. The 48-unit apartment complex was built for homeless people living with disabilities. Families began moving in just before Christmas and the celebration of its completion will provide comfort and community to many for years to come.
So the year begins like every year. There are bad things happening and there are good things happening. And they are happening at the same time as they almost always do leaving us challenged to not be torn apart as they tug us in their direction.
And we find ourselves surrounded by good people and some not so good people. We’ll do our best to gravitate towards the good and shy away from the bad. And we will also again come to the realization that in the end we are all in this together and it will be some connection of us is what will get us through. And we will cling to those we love and pray that more of those kinds of people come our way.
In my office is a gift that Sister Pauline O’Brien once gave me. It is an image of a woman gracefully dancing on the ice. One arm is extending high above her head while the other sweeps around her. One leg is lifted and the other is on tip toes as she swirls. The faintest of smiles adorns her face. At the bottom are the words, “When you find yourself on thin ice, you may as well dance.”
So my friends, let’s start this year by dancing shall we? You may as well.
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Washing the Heart
So, there are some things that you simply can’t fix, regardless of how talented or wonderful or clever you are. That is not because they do not need fixing, because they require it more than almost everything in the world. They are bad relationships or bad systems or bad friendships or banking accounts or lawns or windows that leak or toilets that you have to flip the handle on or whatever.
It is difficult to take an inventory of these things but before we all die we will. Or we won’t because we will ignore it and that will cost us far more in the end.
So, lets get started shall we?
These are the things that I have not been able to fix, aside from windows that leak or toilets where you have to flip the handle because they are things that are beyond my repair no matter what. So I hire someone who is far more experienced than I in these matters. The other matters however are mine to manage through.
First would be all of those relationships where I was so in love and she was so in love but we were way too immature so that love was lost. The one that I regret the most is Ginny because we were pretty passionate but it ended because High School ended and college began and I continued becoming me and she continued becoming her and we lost one another. Still, I would like to call her and say thanks because those were wonderful defining days and I would not be me without those times.
Then there is my first marriage. We both invested a lot and have three wonderful children as a result. We did things that were great and things that were not so great. We laughed and we loved and we fought and we spent long moments in silence because no one knew what else to say. We both tried our best to fix it but there was no fixing. So we moved on long after we knew that we should have.
The kids remain though and they are the best, most wonderful reminders of what love can produce, although I have met many kids that were also produced in love but did not turn out so wonderfully. It makes me very, very thankful for the relationships that I have with them.
Then there is SABHC, an attempt to fix mental health care in our community. I worked hard giving it my every thing at the cost of many other things, emotionally, financially, and relationship wise. In the beginning, like most beginnings, it was wonderful and we accomplished a lot, but it unraveled and I crashed and burned along with the attempt before other caring and wonderful people reached in and pulled me out. But I did my best, am proud that I did, but am sad at the cost.
But there is this one face that I will never forget, a mentally ill woman crying and burying her head in my chest, begging me not to take away her hot lunches on the last day, when I knew that it was beyond my fixing.
Tears still come to my eyes.
But tears are not a bad thing. I have learned that. They cleanse the heart. Washing it and making it cleaner than it was and leaving you in a place where you pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and tell yourself that it is time to start again.
When I am having a hard time, as we all do, I think about these things. Then I wash my heart, and I pick myself up, dust myself off and tell myself that it is time to start again.
It is difficult to take an inventory of these things but before we all die we will. Or we won’t because we will ignore it and that will cost us far more in the end.
So, lets get started shall we?
These are the things that I have not been able to fix, aside from windows that leak or toilets where you have to flip the handle because they are things that are beyond my repair no matter what. So I hire someone who is far more experienced than I in these matters. The other matters however are mine to manage through.
First would be all of those relationships where I was so in love and she was so in love but we were way too immature so that love was lost. The one that I regret the most is Ginny because we were pretty passionate but it ended because High School ended and college began and I continued becoming me and she continued becoming her and we lost one another. Still, I would like to call her and say thanks because those were wonderful defining days and I would not be me without those times.
Then there is my first marriage. We both invested a lot and have three wonderful children as a result. We did things that were great and things that were not so great. We laughed and we loved and we fought and we spent long moments in silence because no one knew what else to say. We both tried our best to fix it but there was no fixing. So we moved on long after we knew that we should have.
The kids remain though and they are the best, most wonderful reminders of what love can produce, although I have met many kids that were also produced in love but did not turn out so wonderfully. It makes me very, very thankful for the relationships that I have with them.
Then there is SABHC, an attempt to fix mental health care in our community. I worked hard giving it my every thing at the cost of many other things, emotionally, financially, and relationship wise. In the beginning, like most beginnings, it was wonderful and we accomplished a lot, but it unraveled and I crashed and burned along with the attempt before other caring and wonderful people reached in and pulled me out. But I did my best, am proud that I did, but am sad at the cost.
But there is this one face that I will never forget, a mentally ill woman crying and burying her head in my chest, begging me not to take away her hot lunches on the last day, when I knew that it was beyond my fixing.
Tears still come to my eyes.
But tears are not a bad thing. I have learned that. They cleanse the heart. Washing it and making it cleaner than it was and leaving you in a place where you pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and tell yourself that it is time to start again.
When I am having a hard time, as we all do, I think about these things. Then I wash my heart, and I pick myself up, dust myself off and tell myself that it is time to start again.
Friday, January 1, 2010
Beach Patrol
So there is this group of us. Conner who builds stuff for a living. Hugh who keeps the lights on for the state of Florida. Joe who heals people in emergency rooms. And me. Many years ago we all met on boat in St. Martin and it was instant friendship. We would all park beside one another on the beach and talk multiple walks up and down Orient. Soon we were dubbed the Beach Patrol.
People have given us shirts and hats that say Beach Patrol.
Over the years, there have been changes to us. Joe dropped out but Jacob from Norway lobbied hard to get in and after sponsoring a terrific alternative wine and cheese party to protest the real wine and cheese party, we let him in.
The gender barrier was broken last year by Denise who proudly wears her hat as we walk down the beach doing moisture checks to ensure that everyone is staying hydrated in the heat.
The three original members make use of technology and travel opportunities to remain in touch throughout the year always planning for new and exciting Beach Patrol opportunities.
All of that to say, a large part of life is about your friends and I have been blessed with many. At home there is the Breakfast Club family, Johnny O and O Johnny and Judy and Judy and Trolley Joe and Roma and Jenny and Shirley and on and on and on. At work there is another collection of friends who guide me through bad times and good times like Jerry, John, Philip, Herb and others. And across the country there is Bill, Jim, Terry, Valarie, Suzanne, and on and on and on again.
What I have noticed is that more often than not, friends make one another laugh. Regardless of how good things may be or how horribly rotten they can be, friends somehow find laughter in it that gets you through.
So as 2010 gets going, I start with a toast to the Beach Patrol and to all of my friends who are always making it funnier than it would have been without them!
People have given us shirts and hats that say Beach Patrol.
Over the years, there have been changes to us. Joe dropped out but Jacob from Norway lobbied hard to get in and after sponsoring a terrific alternative wine and cheese party to protest the real wine and cheese party, we let him in.
The gender barrier was broken last year by Denise who proudly wears her hat as we walk down the beach doing moisture checks to ensure that everyone is staying hydrated in the heat.
The three original members make use of technology and travel opportunities to remain in touch throughout the year always planning for new and exciting Beach Patrol opportunities.
All of that to say, a large part of life is about your friends and I have been blessed with many. At home there is the Breakfast Club family, Johnny O and O Johnny and Judy and Judy and Trolley Joe and Roma and Jenny and Shirley and on and on and on. At work there is another collection of friends who guide me through bad times and good times like Jerry, John, Philip, Herb and others. And across the country there is Bill, Jim, Terry, Valarie, Suzanne, and on and on and on again.
What I have noticed is that more often than not, friends make one another laugh. Regardless of how good things may be or how horribly rotten they can be, friends somehow find laughter in it that gets you through.
So as 2010 gets going, I start with a toast to the Beach Patrol and to all of my friends who are always making it funnier than it would have been without them!
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