Stranger?

Welcome Something New

To offer hospitality to a stranger is to welcome something new, unfamiliar and unknown into our life-world…. Strangers have stories to tell which we have never heard before, stories which can redirect our seeing and stimulate our imaginations. The stories invite us to view the world from a novel perspective.

Thomas Ogletree
Source: Hospitality to the Stranger

Time, just a minute

You Will Surprise What Happen When The Homeless Man Ask Him Wa...
You Will Surprise What Happen When The Homeless Man Ask Him Wait For 1 Minute...
Posted by KeeptheHeat on Thursday, August 27, 2015

Profiles in leadership

Two insightful videos follow here.

The first records the solo action of CitySquare board member, Kevin Thomason.

The second captures members of the leadership team of the CitySquare. Here I'm proud to stand with Kevin (out a second time in a week doing his duty to our community) along with board chair, Dave Shipley and President/COO, John Siburt.

Clearly, evidence that our organization is in good, stable hands!

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!"

"Alone" people

After awhile you develop a 6th sense that I call "recognition of reality."  For me it kicks in big time when I'm in an observant role and alone myself. 

It happened for me most recently on Sunday as I drove to my favorite breakfast joint by myself.

I saw three people.

The first was an old woman.  She made her way up the broken sidewalk on a walker.  Hers was not an easy trek.  She carried a bag or two of what looked like groceries.  The bags, though necessary,  made her journey even more difficult.  As I watched her, I knew she was alone, I mean all alone.  I have no idea her destination, but I do know (much more than suspect) that the end of her journey last Sunday morning would be an alone place.

Then, there was a homeless man on a bicycle.  Don't ask me how I knew he was homeless, but he was.  All his possessions seemed lashed to the bike, except for the backpack that he wore.  As I watched him navigate the same sidewalk as the woman, I knew again that his destination would involve a different sort of aloneness.  There would be others present, under a bridge or in a shelter, but still he would end this day all alone.

Finally, on that same stretch of sidewalk another man without a place to call home and on foot.  He stepped off the sidewalk to make way for the chap on the bike.  Some small talk exchanged between the two created something just short of a smile.  This final man, loaded down himself, presented a deep sort of almost palpable sadness to me, though he had no idea I was observing. 

Three people alone, in a deep loneliness. 

As I ate my hot breakfast at my favorite hole-in-the-wall café, I wondered why I hadn't invited them all to share a table with me. 

"Alone" can be a nice place to visit, but it seems to me a terrible place to live.

Friends

The photos that follow present images of men I've met over the past several weeks at "the Corner: (use the Search tool at upper left to read more about this special location out near CitySquare's new Opportunity Center).

I post them here without comment.  They are great people, many wounded, broken and struggling.  They are fathers, sons, brothers, unemployed, working, veterans and more. 

Each has a story. 

Each brings a personal and spiritual force to the conversations we enjoy.

None, none should be dismissed out of hand. 

All deserve respect. 

These images could be multiplied in number by a factor of 20 or more. 

Meet some of my friends.

 

 

 

"Like a human being"

Last Thursday afternoon, as we shared a cup of coffee, I stood with a young man in the howling, freezing, biting wind. 


He didn't take a meal, he just wanted a hot cup of coffee.

He went on about how good it was of us to come.

I responded with the truth, "I'm just here hanging out with good people."

As we talked, he thanked me again, saying, "The world needs more people like you, Larry."

I replied, "Well, thank you, but I could say the same about you. The world would be better off with more people like you."

He hung his head slightly, "I don't know about that.  I'm afraid it would be darker than it is."

Remarkably, he went on to tell me that he had just left prison and, like about everyone in his situation, was having a tough time finding a job.  He told me that he had completed 36 job applications with no job offer coming back to him.

Then he said the most startling thing.  "You treat us like we're human beings here.  That's not true in many places, Larry."

Later that evening I enjoyed dinner with a room full of physicians. 

When it came my time to speak, I told them about my young friend on the corner.  I noted that they treat and care for people as a professional pursuit, and that we all remain grateful for their skills and commitment.

But I went on to reference my young friend's comment, noting, "The most important thing for us all is to treat people like human beings in everything that we do.

The wisdom of "the Corner" continues to amaze, direct and inspire me.

 

Homelessness, a personal response. . .

When it comes to relating to and moving alongside a person or persons who are homeless, what can be done practically?  People frequently ask me this question in one form or another.

"What should I do when a person on the street asks me for money?"

"How should I respond to a homeless person when I pass them on the sidewalk or encounter them begging at a stoplight?"

"How can I get to know a person who deals with a poverty so deep that they have no place to live?"

Good questions!

As I've noted several times over the last few days, efforts to end homelessness in Dallas face a number of obstacles, most of which appear in the form of what I call "unsatisfying half measures." 

At a very personal level, how do we move beyond "halfway" responses?

Let me offer an idea or two.

First, find a way to truly befriend a homeless person without rushing ahead to "fix" everything or to change the person's life or situation, as if that is your responsibility.  It is likely unrealistic that this can be done using a "fly-by" strategy.  It won't happen that you will become friends with a person by just seeing them a time or two on the street or corner.  What can be done is to stop, slow the frames down dramatically and just be human with another person.  Stop and talk.  Introduce yourself to the other person.  Plan to come back to the area where the person lives.  Realize that you likely won't find each other every time you try to, but keep coming back.  Join me on "the Corner" of Malcolm X and I-30 on Thursday afternoons at 2 p.m. and get accustomed to the approach.  Or volunteer at one of our housing sites on a regular basis.  I can hook you up!

Second, value every person you meet no matter how poor, ragged, rugged, dirty or injured they are when you encounter them.  We convey value to another by the way we respond and by how we refuse to be put off by their circumstances.  Work on creating relationships that are defined by reciprocity--relationships in which everyone gives and everyone receives.

Third, develop a new understanding of how enlightened self-interest serves the entire community. The fact is when everyone does better in a city, everyone benefits!  Begin to regard the real, pressing needs of your poor friends as opportunities for you and your community to invest in solutions.  These solutions will benefit the poor, but they will also benefit you and everyone else.  Better health, better housing, better diet, better work skills, better mental health--these are not expenses to be avoided, but investments to be made that enrich the quality of life for us all.

Finally, if you are a person of faith, begin to "re-read" the story of your faith with new eyes for compassion, justice, the city and the poor.  Decide to spend time reading the words of Jesus from the perspective of your new friends who happen to be poor and cast aside.

While I cannot answer all of the "how to" questions, I do know that what I have in mind can be done.  And, in the doing we discover real answers and make new, very satisfying friendships.

Charles

Several weeks ago I met Charles on "the porch" where I sit on Thursday afternoons.

He impressed me then as a very smart, self-aware man.

"Today, Larry, I have a peaceful spirit.  That has not always been the case, back when I tried to 'act like God,' I was very, very different" he informed me in that first meeting.  Funny how deep folks seem to go immediately out there on the street.  No time for wasted words or small talk.  Tough reality only, please.

Last week when I saw him, he had a real problem.  His bike, the only source of transportation that he had, had two flat tires.  Charles picks up work wherever he can.  He stays in a night shelter or under a bridge, rides his bike to work where he cleans things up and catches out on odd jobs. Or, at least he did until recently.

It was an easy thing to help him get his tires fixed.

During that process, I asked him what he did for work.

"I do anything I can find to do," he said. "But, it's gotten lots harder.  Over in Deep Ellum they are telling us 'We can't hire people like you anymore.'  I told them, I don't know what you mean.  My name is Charles and I'm just here to work."  

It seems the Deep Ellum Association doesn't want homeless persons in their area, even if they are there to work.

Just one more example of why housing is so important.

Lots of people think shelters provide "housing."

Funny though, business owners and employers don't consider shelters "housing."  If they did, some of my homeless friends like Charles would be hired.

We've got to do better.

We've got to get people like my friend Charles into homes.

He has transportation.

Now he needs an address.

"If I had a home, Larry, I could get my little granddaughter out of foster care," he told me.

But, then, that's another story altogether. A story that breaks this granddad's heart.

Hassled

Last Thursday a Dallas Marshall harassed me as I sat on the steps of Billy Merendino's old, abandoned house at the corner of Dawson and Malcolm X.

Nathan Rivers, Wendy and I were just sitting on the porch talking.  Nathan was finishing up his lunch, an entire rotisserie chicken!

During the course of his meal, Nathan shared a great one liner on his approach to the streets:  "Yeah Larry, I walk softly and carry a big thought," he declared.  "I look a long time before I leap!"  

As we discussed Nathan's attempt to get off the streets and out of "the walk in," a Marshall's car passed by very slowly with the two officers giving the three of us a careful once over.

As the squad car pulled away, Nathan remarked, "Larry, they would have stopped if you hadn't been sitting here."  

"Really?" I replied.

"You don't believe me?"  Nathan asked.  "The only reason they didn't stop is because you were sitting here."

"Because I'm white?" I pressed him.

"Yes sir, that's right," he answered.

Our conversation changed gears a bit as we discussed racism, profiling and how homeless persons are constantly hassled and shoved away from almost everywhere.

"Lots of patrol cars out here today," Nathan observed.  "They must be doing a 'sweep' or something." 

About 15 minutes later the same two marshals pulled slowly toward us.  This time the car stopped and the officer lowered his window.  Neither officer said a word.  The driver simply pointed his finger at me and motioned for me to come over to the car.

I suppose I was a bit surprised.

"Me?" I asked.

He simply shook his head and nodded yes.

He also pointed to Nathan, skipping over Wendy, and motioned for him to come over as well.

We did as he instructed, moving over to the side of the car.

He asked for ID, which we both produced.

"Do you own this house?" he asked me, the first words he had spoken.

"No, my friend Billy at the gas station here owns the house," I answered, pointing to the station next door.

"Do you have permission to sit here," he went on.

"Yes, I do," I replied, as I turned toward the old service station and called out to Billy for his assistance.

As Billy walked over, the marshal turned to Nathan and asked, "What about you?" 

As he attempted to explain Billy's hospitality, Billy leaned into the car and confirmed that the three of us were all his guests.

The officer handed back our identification documents, rolled up the window and drove away without a word.

Nathan spun out a calm, sad commentary on what had just happened.

"They drove around the corner and got their nerve up and came back and confronted you, Larry.  It happens to us every day.  There just ain't no place for us to go" he said.

Nathan had been to court that very morning to clear up a warrant for a "crime" he committed 7 years ago.

"What was the offense, " I asked him.

"'Sleeping in a public place'" he informed me.

"I'm such a criminal, Larry!"  he joked as I noted his eyes filling with tears.  "I'm as harmless as a teddy bear, Larry, really."

For his offense the judge directed that he do several hours of public service.  He plans to volunteer at the CitySquare Food Pantry.  He will be welcomed gladly.

As I've reflected on the day, our conversation, the marshals and the sadness, my emotions  ranged from anger, to disgust, to sadness, to shame, to resignation.

One thing I know for certain:  most of us have no clue as to how hard it is to be extremely poor and alone on the streets of a city like Dallas, Texas.

We simply must do better than this.

Walter, again

Last night, as I'm sitting by the fire reading a mindless spy novel about the Middle East, Walter appears at my door.  You may remember Walter from previous posts. 

To make a longer story short, let me just say Walter has been a case!

But that makes this evening's encounter all the better. 

Walter knocks on my door and reports, when I open it to him, that he has a car, a job and five years sober.  I expect he is telling me the truth as the car is sitting in my driveway! And, as I checked my last note on this page about him, sure enough I realize he had been clean and sober for 5 years!

He also carries $200 in his pocket. 

What he needs from me is a solid referral to the CitySquare Thrift Store so that his funds can go as far as possible in his current effort to furnish his apartment.  Something about bed bugs destroying his most recent attempt at that process! 

He looked so good. 

Bright eyes.

Clean, neat clothes.

Good, solid shoes. 

He was understandably proud of his progress.

He thanked me and I pushed back against that, remembering how tough I had been on him in the past.

But, seeing him was a victory. 

What we are doing here is important. 

Living in the neighborhood where he can find me is essential. 

Nice New Year's day encounter.