3 bucks an hour for clean streets. . .

Last Friday morning as I drove down Elm Street toward Downtown, I noticed my good friend, "Blue" picking up cans as he made this way up the street in my direction.

I pulled up, rolled my window down and said, "What are you doing, man?"

"Pickin' up cans, Mr. James," he replied.

I pulled off the street and parked my Jeep.

We greeted each other with a hug and a handshake.

"How are you, Blue," I inquired.

"I'm blessed, blessed by the best!" somehow his answer beamed.  "I want that job, Mr. James, that's what I want," he reminded me of the focus of several conversations we've had out at "the Corner" across from the Opportunity Center site.

"All I want is the job," he repeated emphatically.

"I hear you, Blue, and I know," I tried to assure him that I had not forgotten.

"Where were you Wednesday night during the storm?" I asked him.

"Outside, under Billy's canopy at the gas station," he informed me.

"I was thinking about you as the sirens sounded and the rain poured down," I told him, small comfort, really no comfort in that report, but I wanted him to at least know that he had not been forgotten, though I did nothing to relieve his situation.

Golden Rule failure, big time there.

"What do you get for the cans, Blue?" I asked changing the subject.

"Fifty cents a pound," he told me.

"How many pounds you got? I asked.

"About 5 or 6, I'd guess," he said.

"How long that take you to pick up?" I probed.

"'Bout an hour," he said.

So, I figured in my head, "Blue" scourers the streets of inner city Dallas, in my neighborhood, for discarded cans and earns no more than $3 an hour.

Seriously?

"I need that job, Mr. James, I need that job," he pressed.

"I know, Blue, I know.  And, you need a place to live off these streets," I reminded him of the obvious.  "Nothing really changes until we find you a home," I repeated, more for myself than for him.

"That's right.  But, Mr. James, I'm okay.  Really I am," he noted in a thinly veiled effort to take care of me, patting his chest with his open hand.

"I'm blessed, Mr. James, I'm blessed.  Just don't forget that job!" he stated one more time.

"I won't," I told him.  "I won't."

As I drove away, I faced his simple request, and I wondered if we could connect the dots with my friend.

I pray we can.

But, frankly, I'm not sure.  I'm just not sure.

Corner Journal 1/24/2013

My friend, Wendy, is a frail, almost toothless, very slight woman, likely younger than my oldest daughter. 

I’ve never seen her clean. 

She lives beneath a matted, stringy, filthy head of brown hair. 

Her clothes are tattered and ill-fitting. 

Wendy is a street beggar.

When I first met her, she responded to my presence much like a wild animal.  She circled my space, throwing me an occasional glance as she tried to figure out who I might be.  

She talked to herself.  Constantly, as if negotiating her next move in life before some listening court. 

More recently, she has warmed up to me.  I think the fact that I’ve spotted her $5 a couple of times helped with that.  And, I expect that she’s been on her meds more regularly than when we first “met.” 

Wendy is always hungry. 

Everybody knows her. 

Everybody likes her. 

We're working hard to get her into housing.  At this point she can’t imagine how that would be possible, so it’s hard to set appointments that she will keep.

 I’m driven by two facts.

First, she is a delightful soul whose life is being poured out in front of my eyes, and it could be so much better.

Second, and more immediately important, she will die on the street if we don’t get her inside.  Time is not friendly here.  

Today I was able to hook her up with a CitySquare neighbor advocate.  We started working more diligently on getting her a home.  

She is a real hoot. 

 

She deserves so much better.

Tonight, Wendy will sleep in an abandoned house on Malcolm X Boulevard. 

 I pray that she will survive. 

____________________________

I met Charlie for the first time today. 

He’s an ex-con, I bet about 50-years-old.

He is a proud man and very wise.

All he wants is a job.  If you have one to offer, I'll vouch for this dude. 

He doesn’t drink.

He believes that his time served in prison should settle his debt and not forever block his return to work. 

 Charlie told me, “It’s like if we are playing football.  If I hold a person, the team gets a 15 yard penalty.  It is assessed.  And, that is it!  No one brings it up again.  The penalty is paid.  It should be that way with prison.  Time served should square the debt!” 

 Did I say Charlie is wise? 

He rides a bike.  

He rejects charity, hates shelters, loves people and just wants a shot to get back in the game. 

He told me that he doesn’t hate anyone nor does he resent his situation. 

He is black.  He doesn’t hate white people.

He wants a job.

He is responsible.

He is a good man.  He has no home. 

“I can sense a man’s spirit.  I don’t talk to anyone who is not ‘open,’” he explained to me.

He volunteers in our Thrift Store. 

He wants a job.

He is a son of the Kingdom of God. . .whatever  exactly that means.

 

Home

Phillip Phillips won the 11th season of American Idol on May 23, 2012. Since then, his first single "Home" launched to #1 on the iTunes pop charts and stayed in the Top 5 for 8 weeks eventually going double platinum!

The World From The Side of The Moon, his first major label album, is available now.

Consider the lyrics in his hit single, Home.

Hold on, to me as we go
As we roll down this unfamiliar road
And although this wave is stringing us along
Just know you’re not alone
Cause I’m gonna make this place your home

Settle down, it'll all be clear
Don't pay no mind to the demons
They fill you with fear
The trouble it might drag you down
If you get lost, you can always be found

Just know you’re not alone
Cause I’m going to make this place your home

Ooo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo. oo-oo-oo-oo [x2]
Aaa-aa-aa-aa-aa-aa-aa. aa-aa-aa-aaaaaa [x2]

Settle down, it'll all be clear
Don't pay no mind to the demons
They fill you with fear
The trouble it might drag you down
If you get lost, you can always be found

Just know you’re not alone
Cause I’m gonna make this place your home

Ooo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo. oo-oo-oo-oo [x4]
Aaa-aa-aa-aa-aa-aa-aa. aa-aa-aa-aaaaaa [x4]

The video doesn't really lend itself to any vision or understanding of the streets of urban America.  However, the words describe for me the work of our Homeless Outreach Team, our Destination Home housing program for chronically homeless and disabled persons, and our community living here at CityWalk.  

Making these places home for those who've not enjoyed one for so long, that even the idea often fills them with fear, spotlights the essential nature of what we do every day at CitySquare.  

NIMBY strikes again. . .even Downtown

It just never fails.

Here's how the process almost always works out:

1. Propose a first class, beautifully designed housing asset.  Fact:  In most cases such plans involve dramatic improvement of the existing real estate chosen for such a project. 

2. Determine that said asset will provide homes, that's right homes, for very poor persons; yes, even formerly homeless persons. [This is a fact that for some reason escapes the ordinary citizen: once a person has a home, a roof over his/her head, they can no longer be considered homeless, but I digress.]

3.  Work hard to align sources with intended uses and put together the financial dimensions and details of the plan. 

4.  Line up necessary support for financing.  Almost all major, significant developments like what's in mind here require both public financing and political support. 

5.  Communicate your plans and intentions to the public, with special attention to the neighborhood surrounding the purposed development. 

6.  Batten down the hatches, dive for cover and prepare for an assault on your plans!

As I say, it almost never fails. 

Folks may say they favor permanent housing for the very poor, the homeless.  But any hint that such a development is planned for anywhere near their property, home, business, or school and you'll witness incredible opposition. 

The latest example of such opposition was reported in last Sunday's edition of The Dallas Morning News ("Uneasy neighbors," Metro section 1B, 4B, April 8, 2012). 

Happy Easter, Dallas! 

In this case the main, reported opposition comes from the Dallas Farmers Market, more accurately from the "Dallas Farmers Market Friends" and the "Dallas Farmers Market Stakeholders Association,"  both fine citizens' groups, I'm sure. 

The project in question connects at least indirectly with CitySquare since John Greenan, Central Dallas Community Development Corporation, is one of the developers.  CitySquare organized the Central Dallas CDC in 2001 to serve the community in developing first-class, affordable housing.  Since the completion of CityWalk @Akard, the CDCDC continues to be involved in a number of projects to provide permanent supportive housing to the homeless of Dallas. 

You will find the news story here. 

Let me know what you think after you've read it.

I know these people. . .

Homeless persons live all around us.

Unfortunately, they remain, for the most part, invisible people.

Spend just a few moments losing yourself in this gallery of photos. 

Warning:  be prepared for some emotions.

As you watch, do your very best to simply "see" them, as you imagine the outline of their lives. 

Such power resides in simple attention to others.

Theology of the neighbor

The idea of "neighbor" occupies an extremely important place in the world and work of CitySquare.  Such has been the case since at least 1994 when we began to talk in terms of the primacy of the neighbor in determining our course of work in inner city communities in Dallas, Texas.  We didn't discover written documentation for the ideas that emerged from our relationships with "the poor" until many years later.  And, we're still finding experienced-based evidence and argument that the approach is valid and essential. 

Consider the following explanation of a "theology of the neighbor."

Our encounter with the Lord occurs in our encounter with others, especially in the encounter with those whose human features have been disfigured by oppression, despoliation, and alienation and who have "no beauty, no majesty" but are the things "from which men turn away their eyes" (Isa. 53:2-3).  These are the marginal groups, who have fashioned a true culture for themselves and whose values one must understand if one wishes to reach them.  The salvation of humanity passes through them; they are the bearers of the meaning of history and "inherit the Kingdom"  (James 2:5).  Our attitude towards them, or rather our commitment to them, will indicate whether or not we are directing our existence in conformity with the will of the Father.  This is what Christ reveals to us by identifying himself with the poor in the text of Matthew.  A theology of the neighbor, which has yet to be worked out, would have to be structured on this basis. (page 116)

A Theology of Liberation

Gustavo Gutierrez

Injured, broke, and trying to work. . .

Friday a man knocked on my front door.

His jeans were torn, his clothing filthy, his facial expressions bespoke his fear and embarrassment.

"I live down the street in the blue apartments," he began. He told me his name and then began telling me his story.

He needed to earn a few dollars to purchase his anti-seizure medication. Just out of the hospital after a series of episodes, he needed a job.

When I reached for my wallet, he stepped back.

"No, don't do that," he scolded me. "I don't want a handout, I want a job. May I clean your windows or rake your lawn?" he suggested.

As we negotiated the job options, he showed me the gunshot wound that marked the back of his head. He pushed back his drooping right eyelid to reveal the absence of a normal eye. He told me an incident of random gunfire had devastated him and his life.

"The bullet came out my eye," he informed me. "The brain injury changed me."

He then began to cry.

He told me his meager disability benefits don't near cover his cost of living. He wept when he told me that he used our food pantry at CitySquare so he could eat. 

He told me about his church.

He told me about his career before being shot.

He hugged me.

He went to work on the leaves in my yard, and I paid him well so that he could get his meds.

My neighbor should be doing better.   Make no mistake about it:  he's trying very hard.  He's doing all he can do.

I'll try to help him, to stay in touch.

But the scale of problems like his are overwhelming. With so many in dire need, we need economies of scale provided by collective, national solutions.

In Monday's newspaper I read about more cuts in our privatized mental health services for the poor and disabled in Texas.  As the report noted, Texas has made it to the bottom of the national ranking for these services. 

Think about it.

Kevin

Many people don't understand the challenges facing "poor" people.  Actually, I cringe at the word "poor" simply because of how we reserve its use for stereotypical understandings of persons who live with the constant disadvantage of little or low income.  In my book and around CitySquare we've long ago recognized that everyone is rich and everyone is poor, just in different ways, dimensions and measures. 

But, to my point.  The wonderful people who cross our paths daily are fundatmentally the same as the people with almost unlimited means who support our work at CitySquare.  What follows is another story about a very special neighbor who is doing his part to make our community stronger.  I gotta tell you, people like Kevin keep me going!  I've known him for over a decade now.  Michelle Kopel,  one of our leading neighbor advocates, wrote this short report.

Kevin McCarver is a 40-year-old, single African American who is developmentally disabled. He graduated from high school in 1996. He has been visiting our Resource Center and Food Pantry for years.

Kevin receives $674 in SSDI, $40 in SNAP (food stamp) benefits, and is a recipient of Section 8 housing which makes him responsible for $192 in rent each month.

Kevin is a regular at our Resource Center.  He visits us to supplement his food needs . More importantly he enjoys the personal contact and fellowship with our staff and volunteers. Kevin always takes time to visit with staff, and we all have taken him under our wing.


When the Resource Center implemented the $5 administration fee, Kevin stated that he was happy to "give back, and help us to help more people." Kevin actually puts a five dollar bill in an envelope with our name on it as soon as he receives his monthly check.

He has told our staff, that he loves us and looks forward to his monthly visits. He has taken ownership in our Resource Center and in the community.

Situations such as Kevin's illustrate that our organization is concerned with not only providing quality food and counsel, but even more with providing a gathering place that strengthens our community one person at a time.