Sisyphus, purpose and imposing hope. . .

Recently, a kind friend sent this note.  I felt like it might be helpful to you:

___________________________________________

Don't know if you are familiar with Jerome Shestack, a human rights activist and attorney, but I ran across this passage in a long article of his and thought of you and CitySquare.

...Sisyphus may turn out to be a more enduring hero than Hercules. For if, as Camus taught, life itself is absurd, then Sisyphus represents the only triumph possible over that absurdity. In his constancy to reach the summit, even with failure preordained, Sisyphus demonstrated that the human spirit is indomitable and that dedication to a higher goal is in itself man's reason for living. So, like Sisyphus, the non-governmental organizations do what they must. The realities of the world may foredoom a great part of the struggle to failure and make most of the effort seem absurd. Yet, the very struggle itself takes on a symbolic meaning, enhancing human dignity. And when all is said and done, there is no other humane course to pursue.

At least from my point of view your work embodies this hope and spirit.

 Best,

David

Reciprocity

In Both Directions

The church has a long history of serving people at the margins…. At the same time, however, an older problem has been intensified. The modern self’s blindness to the other as part of the self has led to an increasing perception of charity as a one-way street, something that originates with the charitable self and leads to handouts for those in need…. Fresh encounters with people on the underside of history introduce a critical change. In solidarity with the marginalized, the modern one-way street gradually begins to bear traffic in both directions.

Joerg Rieger
Source: Remember the Poor

To know "Blue"

Last week, a car driving down Malcolm X Blvd. in front of CitySquare's Opportunity Center struck and injured a good friend of mine named "Blue," a community character about whom I've written here in the past. 

I was across town when this terrible accident occurred. 

And, today, I'm not at all sure how "Blue" is doing. 

As soon as I heard of his terrible, horrifying misfortune, I started toward my car to go see him.

Then, the sickening reality hit me.  I couldn't find my friend because I didn't know his name.  I only knew "Blue," the name he had shared with me over two years ago.  I didn't know his real and complete name.

I thought I knew him, but I didn't.

Pondering the injury and my inability to find my friend leads me to several conclusions/observations.  I'll share a couple here.

"Blue" didn't allow himself to be known by a name because somewhere in his heart he's decided that he is no longer here.  "Blue" believes he is lost, never to really be found again.  He may have convinced himself that he doesn't want to be discovered, found out or identified.  So, he has no need of a last name or a real first name for that matter.

What must that kind of disconnection do to a person's soul?  To his self-understanding? 

The street rips everything away from a person who calls it home, even a given name.

But then, I have to face the reality that my "friendship" has not been complete or totally authentic. 

As hard as I've tried, we still don't have the reciprocal connection that I've convinced myself we enjoyed. 

If we had moved beyond compassion and charity and "service" into a real friendship, I would have known his entire, real name! 

I just would have. 

But I've fooled myself to keep from realizing that I'm not going deep enough with people out of real respect and revolutionary, ordinary love.

Maybe "Blue" kept his name from me because that is the only thing he had left to hold close and tight.  Maybe he gives it away only to people he really trusted.  I'm not sure.

I've thought this week of the television classic, Cheers.  Remember that show?  Set in a bar, it was entertainment wrapped around the lived experience of genuine community, something the U.S. and my town needs lots more of at a time when it seems to be slipping away from us.  No doubt, this social phenomenon that concerns so many of us fueled the success of the show. 

You'll remember that at Cheers, "everybody knows your name." 

And that's important. 

I learned that this week, big time. 

I hope I get another chance to be with "Blue." 

My first question will be "What's your name, man, what's your name!"

Second Chances!

Several months ago members of the Dallas Community Prosecutors team met with us here at CitySquare to discuss a revolutionary new program for Dallas.  The "Top Offenders Program" included several key components. 

First, law enforcement identified the really "bad guys" in the target neighborhood.  In the community we focused on there were 5 hardened, violent criminals that ran the drug trade.  The police arrested them.  All five are under federal indictment and on their way to long prison terms.  Since their arrest, crime in the neighborhood has decreased by 63%!

Second, the community prosecutors organized a "call in."  Functioning much like an intervention on an alcoholic or drug addict, the meeting involved parents, grandparents, friends, teachers, ministers, children and others.  Invited to these "call in" sessions are the underlings of the really bad actors.  These are young people who have assisted the hardened criminals in their enterprise. 

The message conveyed clearly and by multiple persons in the community during the meeting, to the invite list is very simple:  "You are done ruining our neighborhood.  And, tonight you have a choice and a chance."

On one side of the room the police stand with a fist full of warrants for the arrest of the beneficiaries of the intervention--the underlings to the bad guys. 

On the other side of the room stand case managers from CitySquare who are present to begin a relationship of renewal and second chances. 

The choice is forced, but must be made.  Go with the police or go with caring people who are devoted to seeing you rebound and experience a fresh start, including the clearing of all criminal records to date. The entire process is overseen and managed by a criminal court and the judges who sit at these benches of justice and order.

So far the numbers are still small, but it's working as these photos of recent "graduate" of the program, Uniqua Johnson reflect!

TEDxACU

My partner, John Siburt, President and COO at CitySquare, recently spoke at the TEDxACU conference.

He spoke eloquently about CitySquare and the basis of the work that we do.

Friendship leading to empathy changes the world. Knowing others as true friends results in revolutionary thought and action.

Hear John out.

Then, let me know what you think.

The Battle: Questions

Tedious is the battle
For poor folks
Striving to live,
Not some ordinary,
Solitary, eeking
Existence; but
Really to live life
Even as preachers with
Suspect theology would
Suggest!

Can my children succeed?
Can my home be safe?
Can my diabetes be controlled?
Can my girl earn a fair wage?
Can my table be spread?
Can my old car start?
Can my boss be fair?
Can my son be promoted?
Can my momma be lifted?
Can my color be an asset?
Can my father know my love?
Can the cops love me?
Can my side of town be honored?
Can my clothes be pressed?
Can my offering be valued?
Can I find a quiet place?
Can I expect better?
Can I pray and see progress?
Can I find real hope?
Can someone see me for who I am, really?
Can I love my community?
Can I love my enemies?
Can my enemies learn enough to love me?
Can we all get along?
Can my soul be found?  Saved?
Can playgrounds be built? 
Can playgrounds be safe?
Can sidewalks be repaired?
Can homes be built? 
Can neighborhoods be made over?
Can re-investment come my way?
Can opportunity be multiplied?
Can REITs work where I live?
Can I relocate to a "high opportunity" community?
Can the national dream be realized?
Can I contribute to someone's life and well being?
Can I be truly needed?
Can a child look up to me?
Can I be worthy of respect?
Can crack houses disappear?
Can City Hall work at last?
Can I win
the Battle?

Same Old Hustle

It happens to me a lot, especially around church settings.

The latest experience came on Christmas Eve as I attempted to make my way into the late night service.

I saw the old man, bent over, but determined as he approached me.

I'd seen him before, and often outside the YMCA downtown.

He worked the same con on me.

 "Sir, I mean no disrespect, but I'm just out of the hospital and I'm trying to get home to Abilene, " he made his pitch as he extended a handful of documents and offered his Texas ID.

I'd heard the story, with a variation or two many times from him.  In previous iterations his health distress was complicated by his having missed a bus west.

"Sir, we've talked often.  You need what I don't have, my previous counsel didn't satisfy you, nor can I tonight," I tried to explain.

He walked away in disgust.

I watched him, feeling conflicted as I walked into the warmth of a dimly lit sanctuary about to burst with celebration, memories, rich sentiment and the inspiration of grace made real.

I know I did the correct thing technically, unless my goal was to purchase him a bottle of comfort.

Still, as I walked my way and he his, I knew in a deeper way possibly as never before that to the one I'd come to remember and thank, I appeared and behaved like this poor, struggling man.

I have my own cons with their ridiculous pitches.

I want my needs satisfied in my own ways, and on my terms, thank you very much.

At times I fool myself, and even try to fool those around me, including the one I'd come to worship during Advent.

The bent over gentleman and I need exactly the same thing: grace, honesty and another chance to get life right.

Neither of us can make much progress without a mutual respect for one another.

Both of us need to ditch the pitch, the hustle, the passing game.

I hope to see him again.

Possibly we can talk about what we both really need.

How to rebuild a broken city. . .

   Commitment to Change

Deep in us we know that the transformation of a city is dependent on transformed people and that finally a commitment to the building of the city has to involve a commitment to change in us.

Elizabeth O'Connor
Source: Our Many Selves

Add your thoughts at inward/outward

CitySquare AmeriCorps team at work in the heart of Dallas

Here's a report on one of CitySquare's placement sites for its AmeriCorps team members. Well-deserved recognition!

Fire and Community

Together

[S]imple people can be amazingly powerful when they are members one of another. As everyone knows, it is almost impossible to create a fire with one log, even if it is a sound one, while several poor logs may make an excellent fire if they stay together as they burn.

Elton Trueblood
Source: The Incendiary Fellowship

Breakfast in Bed: 19th Annual Community Prayer Breakfast--at your house!

Heard in church yesterday. . .

Rev. Dr. Andy Stoker, Senior Minister at First United Methodist Church, Dallas, read this great Maya Angelou poem during his Lenten sermon yesterday.  I was ill at home, but caught the message via streaming media!   Ironically, I was alone as I listened.

Alone

Lying, thinking
Last night
How to find my soul a home
Where water is not thirsty
And bread loaf is not stone
I came up with one thing
And I don't believe I'm wrong
That nobody,
But nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.

There are some millionaires
With money they can't use
Their wives run round like banshees
Their children sing the blues
They've got expensive doctors
To cure their hearts of stone.
But nobody
No, nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Now if you listen closely
I'll tell you what I know
Storm clouds are gathering
The wind is gonna blow
The race of man is suffering
And I can hear the moan,
'Cause nobody,
But nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Risking vulnerability

There is much to consider in this TED Talk. 

 Certainly, as we relate to people, including "poor people," dealing honestly with my own life struggle will be essential. 

Vulnerability is a real challenge, but so worth it if change and transformation remain our objectives. 

Watch. 

 Comment.

Wendy

I met Wendy on "the Corner" over a year ago. 

At the time, she "lived" in the old, abandoned house behind the Merandino brothers service station at Louise and Malcolm X Boulevard. 

For several months I tried to engage her in conversation, but she was extremely non-responsive.  She avoided me no matter what I did. 

On more than one occasion, I observed her talking to herself--later I realized that she was discussing how to deal with me and what to make of my presence, my bottled water, and my afternoon snacks.

My preliminary judgment was that she was dealing with some sort of fairly severe mental illness and/or possibly alcohol or substance abuse. 

As the months wore on, Wendy became more and more approachable.  I finally figured out that Wendy wasn't severely mentally ill at all, and she wasn't addicted to anything, except food and laundry money, neither of which she had as often as needed! 

She appeared to be alone on the streets (hold onto this idea and keep reading!).

Estranged from her mother and family, she had some fairly deeply rooted "trust issues" when it came to people, especially men.

She resisted shelters, mainly because submitting to their rules and routine would have meant surrendering the last vestige of dignity and self-respect that remained in her life.  She was grateful for the place to sleep, even though it had no benefit of functioning utilities.  At least, on most nights, she was sheltered, dry and protected from the harshest parts of street life. 

To be frank, my connection to Wendy opened up for the first time after I overheard her ask a guy on the street if she could "borrow" a cigarette.  After hearing the request, I walked over to the service station and purchased a pack of Kools.  When I handed them to Wendy, I thought she was going to faint.  The fact that I gave her what she asked for without conditions or judgment seemed to blow her away, especially coming from me. 

As I got better acquainted with her, I began to provide small gifts of cash and food to help her survive.  She can stretch $20 farther than anyone I think I've ever met. 

Wendy now has an apartment very near my house in Old East Dallas.  She's off "the Corner."  Well, sort of. 

On most Thursdays, when I go to "the Corner," I see Wendy.  In talking with her about her new home, she always makes it clear to me that she comes back to her old neighborhood because that is where her friends remain.  I've experienced this time and again.  Homeless persons who work out housing, often simply cannot just walk away from their friends no matter how good their personal fortunes may have turned. 

Community trumps personal progress on the streets. 

Wendy is a hoot! 

She is a friend. 

I'm glad I know her. 

I expect we'll see even more of her once CitySquare's new Opportunity Center opens later this year. 

Assumptions. . .about ownership

Possession

Because the tea shop was crowded, a man took the other chair at her table and ordered tea. The woman [already seated there] was prepared for a leisurely time, so she began to read her paper. As she did so, she took a cookie from the package on the table, and noticed that the man across from her also took a cookie from the same package. This upset her greatly, but she ignored it and kept reading. After a while she took another cookie. And so did he! This unnerved her and she glared at the man.

While she glared, he reached for the fifth and last cookie, smiled and offered her half of it. She was indignant. She paid her money and left in a great hurry, enraged at such a presumptuous man. She hurried to her bus stop just outside. She opened her purse to get her fare. And then she saw, much to her distress, that in her purse was her own package of cookies unopened.

Told by Walter Brueggemann
Source: Voices of the Night

We call it "reciprocity"!

Running across a statement of one of the fundamental principles/values of our organization always pulls me up short.  Here is a great restatement of our belief in and insistence upon "reciprocity."  

BreakingBarriers

Breaking down the barriers between the givers and the receivers of aid, between those who have and those who have not, is an essential expression of the solidarity that liberates the privileged from their blindness and the marginalized from their invisibility.

Theodore W. Jennings

Good News to the Poor

Restoring all things. . .

A New Society

The first words about the Christian life are not about what we as individuals can experience, but about the kind of society God intends. The gospel, or good news, is that in Christ, God’s coming kingdom is breaking into the here and now–in the depths of the believer’s heart, but also in the world itself. This kingdom encompasses economic, material, psychological, political, social and spiritual existence.

Charles Moore

Source: "Why I Stopped Going to Church" 

Progress?

The richer we have become materially, the poorer we have become morally and spiritually. We have learned to fly in the air like birds and swim in the sea like fish, but we have not learned the simple art of living together as brothers and sisters.

-Martin Luther King, Jr.

Not surprising at all. . .

Everyone likes a good story.  You know, a narrative to put alongside data and collective impressions.  I'd argue that this story is not all that atypical from what I've witnessed on the streets. 

"I asked him ... 'I don't know if you remember me, but I think I gave you something that's very precious to me,' and he says, 'Was it a ring? Yeah, I have it, I kept it for you,'" Darling said.

She was floored.

Read the entire story here.  

Sadness

 I've seen it deeply, indelibly etched on the faces of literally thousands of our neighbors as they sit in the waiting area of our food pantry on Haskell Avenue in inner city East Dallas.

You can't miss it if you stop long enough to take it in.

Sadness.

Deep sadness.

Even beneath the smiles of courtesy and politeness, the deep facial lines, chiseled by a long, long bout with continual disappointment and the limitations imposed by chronic, unrelenting poverty, remain.

Inescapable sadness.

Sadness that spills over into the lives of children early on.

Sadness that imposes limits, curtails expectations, and that all too often pools up at depths sufficient to swamp an otherwise promising life.

Sadness creates cesspools of hopelessness and resignation.

The variety of sadness I've observed again and again in the inner city demands a life-patience beyond my capacity to comprehend.  

Most of my middle class and upper class friends have no clue.  More significantly, we go to great lengths to dispel any notion of sadness.

Sadness discomforts us.

We avoid it at costs.

We even attempt to "shew it away" whenever we see it!

This ignorance arises from a basic inexperience in waiting for anything, especially the necessities of life:  food, clothing, shelter, transportation, education, employment, safety, health care, recreation, entertainment, celebration, civic life and organization, public engagement, to name a few.

Most of us wait for very little.

The patient response of the poor to the overwhelming sadness of so much of life lived in poverty contributes to the maintenance of social stability.

While we should be grateful, most of us remain unknowing.

Poverty creates a foreboding culture defined largely by deep, thick sadness.

Good news to the poor always involves driving the sadness out of life--a mission that can be accomplished only in a community that embraces sadness.  To deliver hope a community must live out of a commitment to understanding, honest self-evaluation, and radical dependence on those who know this sadness best, those who live it out every day.

I wonder if we're up to it?