House of Charity Episode 8 3.24.09

Apparently, Thoreau didn't just live in the woods. 

He had people over. He wrote in a journal, dickered around on his place, went to eat at Emerson's, and, most importantly--spent the next seven years folding his experience "many times thick" as he wrote his masterwork, Walden, on his experience. It took him seven years to aptly catch and recast his time by the pond. And then some.

On that note, Representative Kevin Parker's Town Hall Meeting (see earlier posts) happened on Saturday, and giving that man a tour was a touch of a shock to my system--it took a few days to sink in. And then some.

See, I give a lot of tours at the House of Charity. To local greats like Inlander reporter Kevin Taylor, or to local student groups getting a taste for the lives of the have-nots. Or, in some strange cosmic coincidence, the Bishop of Guatemala showed up one day. 

One of the best ways to frame a tour is by pointing at the wall near our entrance, which has a reminder of why we're there--Matthew 25. The chapter with that Sheep and Goats business. Or, in other words, for that which you do to the least of me, you do to me. In a large measure, it's what we do. Well, in the St. Francis of Assisi sense that we need to preach the Gospel always, and when necessary, use words. Because giving with strings attached seems disingenuous. 

But enough theology.

When I started in on the tour with Rep. Parker, and framed our mission with that verse, he fired back the other half.

"For that which you do not do for the least of me, you do not do for me."

My jaw went slack.

Even the Bishop of Guatemala forgot to remind me that I was only using half the idea.

That being said, as I was recovering my voice, I was met with another question. 

"How does GAU affect your population?"  

(GAU = General Assistance for the Unemployable, a state program that's due to be cut by Governor Gregoire's new budget. It provides those that are deemed by social service professionals to be unemployable for a certain tenure, and gives them $339 a month with which to scrape by during their recovery).

Thankfully my knee-jerk was on target. 

"It's literally a lifeline for most of our clients."

Now I didn't mean literally the way we college-age types do--for emphasis. I meant that GAU being cut from our legislative budget will mean that people who are desperately in need of services will be out of luck, and by out of luck I mean that they will be filling hospital beds, psychiatric wards, and, well, the morgue.

Sounds harsh, I know.

To everyone that's feeling the sting of economic hard times, for everyone who's lost a job, or has family out of work--it's a rough stretch. But nobody feels it more strongly than those that are not able to help themselves.

Those that can't pull themselves up by their bootstraps.

To get a realistic picture, after the tour, later on during the Town Hall Meeting in earnest, our assistant director framed the issue thusly--that there will be a domino effect should GAU fold. 

1. Those receiving GAU and using it to pay rent (which takes a large chunk of the $339/month, or a % when the rent is subsidized) won't be able to pay their rent any longer--and will be out on the street.

2. The housing complexes filled by those using GAU to pay rent, and also by those working individuals who pay their rent by their wages, well, when GAU goes, so do so many of the residents. So, most likely, they'll have to close. Which puts the wage-earners not even using GAU out on the street.

3. Then the social services supporting those individuals that were in housing, and the entire support network in place, well they now lack clientele--so they're out. Social service agencies close, and the city now not only has a massively increased homeless population, we're also less able to get people back into housing, because of the now-closed agencies.

Like I said, literally a lifeline. But not just for those on it. For our city. But since we're all here, let's take this situation a touch further.

4. Increased numbers of persons sleeping outside with absolutely no income, out of work due to lack of available jobs, mental health personnel to stabilize them, or housing to provide a stable environment means more crime. Lack of state funding for more law enforcement means less will be done to stymie the increase.

5. The ordinances passed by downtown businesses towards keeping downtown Spokane shopper-friendly and safe? Well, increasing numbers of homeless persons in more desperate situations makes for more panhandling downtown, and more people willing to commit crimes. 

People backed into a corner aren't always friendly.

6. The physical hazards of living on the street--getting "rolled" (mugged), frostbite, hypothermia, all the trappings of the decrease in available hygiene (no end to problems there)--including the psychological burden of never quite being safe--increases E.R. visits and floods (even more so) Eastern State Hospital and the Psych floor of Providence. Not to mention the viable alternative of "three hots and a cot" (jail time) when compared to the alternative.

. . . I don't really care to go on. And this is just in Spokane.

Granted, we're in hard times. 

Granted, my friend the Spovangelist has been saying that the fat is going to burn for some time now. But this isn't what she meant. 

Granted, nobody really wanted to make changes when things are good. 

Granted, 2009 is a year of turmoil. And upheaval. And change.

Maybe, this will be the year that we recognize our old understanding of what it means to be a homeless person (derelict, or deadbeat, or bum or lazy, or junkie) falls down dead. Because many of our homeless will be. Dead, that is.

Maybe this is the year that we recognize that, a la Malcom Gladwell (see the 'Million Dollar Murray' post from December) that there are more cost-effective ways of providing social services. That maybe this is the year that we recognize that our poorest are forced to spend the most on health care--when they go to the E.R.--because simple, affordable, preventative care is consistently unavailable. 

Because an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.

Maybe we've forgotten that. That this ounce of prevention put in place by GAU will cost us a pound to fix once it's gone.

Maybe this is the year that was stop our neurotic fear of enabling those with horrifying addictions--as if the truism at the needle exchange wasn't true, that the best day using is worse than the worst day sober. Maybe this is the year we realize that when people are in crisis they revert to what they know. What's safe. And when they're presented with clear, viable, and possible alternatives, they make changes. Maybe we'll realize that presenting those in desperate need with more than condemnation will help them change. 

Maybe this is the year that we'll see the insanity of making a goal to halve homelessness by 2015 and then pulling the only rug out from under our most vulnerable that they know.

Since if GAU leaves, we're not halving homelessness, we're doubling it. 

It took me a few days to make sense of my time with Representative Parker. It took Thoreau seven years to write Walden after he left his cabin and his pond. Seven years from today, it will be interesting to see where our government has taken things. Where change was made, and where new crises forced new thinking--because knee-jerk reactions like cutting GAU may sink the ship.

Mostly though it will be interesting to see if, as a society, we fall back on our old paradigms in this crisis, or whether we feel our backs being pushed up against a collective wall, and reach for a new door.