Watch beyond the divisive details to capture the spirit of this very important message.
Fear kills community.
To obey the command, "Fear Not!" is to begin a journey toward wholeness, healing and hope in community.
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Showing posts with label fear. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fear. Show all posts
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Wednesday, December 05, 2007
Fear
Fear.
It can block us from accomplishing what we know would be best.
When fears affect judgment, progress and renewal stall out.
Poverty knows all about fear.
We see evidence of fear on a daily basis in the city.
Just look to our streets.
The City of Dallas has taken steps to criminalize homelessness. Panhandling, "loitering" (read here: trying to find a place to simply stop the endless, daily parade of walking to rest just for a while), and other "nuisance" behaviors are now illegal and can result in citations, trips to jail or Parkland Hospital's psyche ward. The condition of being without a permanent place to live can now be regarded as a criminal act.
Because of their schedules, "early out/early in," shelters don't really help much with the problem of fear on our streets.
Business interests fear the poor and homeless who walk our streets, believing that these unfortunate folks will destroy any chance of a Downtown resurgence.
Fear blocks even the best and most innovative development efforts. Just try, as a non-profit organization, to work out a reasonable financing plan on a project aimed at providing high-quality, permanent housing for low-income people, let alone the severely impoverished homeless poor.
Lenders know fear.
For-profit developers are reluctant to focus on affordable housing production, again, to say nothing of real housing for the homeless. They are scared off by the narrow margins, as well as what they fear will be the unique challenges associated with managing affordable projects.
Even the homeless are afraid. They are afraid of the police, ordinary people like me and you, service providers, other poor people.
So, we are left with a situation defined largely by fear, misunderstandings and the inaction of the status quo.
Fear makes it simpler to arrest the homeless, declaring them criminals, than to provide what is really needed: permanent housing with plenty of human support.
I'm looking for leaders who will point us beyond our fear.
It can block us from accomplishing what we know would be best.
When fears affect judgment, progress and renewal stall out.
Poverty knows all about fear.
We see evidence of fear on a daily basis in the city.
Just look to our streets.
The City of Dallas has taken steps to criminalize homelessness. Panhandling, "loitering" (read here: trying to find a place to simply stop the endless, daily parade of walking to rest just for a while), and other "nuisance" behaviors are now illegal and can result in citations, trips to jail or Parkland Hospital's psyche ward. The condition of being without a permanent place to live can now be regarded as a criminal act.
Because of their schedules, "early out/early in," shelters don't really help much with the problem of fear on our streets.
Business interests fear the poor and homeless who walk our streets, believing that these unfortunate folks will destroy any chance of a Downtown resurgence.
Fear blocks even the best and most innovative development efforts. Just try, as a non-profit organization, to work out a reasonable financing plan on a project aimed at providing high-quality, permanent housing for low-income people, let alone the severely impoverished homeless poor.
Lenders know fear.
For-profit developers are reluctant to focus on affordable housing production, again, to say nothing of real housing for the homeless. They are scared off by the narrow margins, as well as what they fear will be the unique challenges associated with managing affordable projects.
Even the homeless are afraid. They are afraid of the police, ordinary people like me and you, service providers, other poor people.
So, we are left with a situation defined largely by fear, misunderstandings and the inaction of the status quo.
Fear makes it simpler to arrest the homeless, declaring them criminals, than to provide what is really needed: permanent housing with plenty of human support.
I'm looking for leaders who will point us beyond our fear.
Friday, August 24, 2007
Fear of the poor and the fear of the poor
Earlier this week following a meeting of our Board of Directors, I exited our headquarters building down the back stairs.
As I walked to my car, I noticed a blanket spread out on a patch of grass beneath a small shrub near the edge of the parking lot. Stretched out on the blanket was an old man. He appeared to be asleep, even though it was at least an hour before dark arrived and settled in.
I approached him to say hello and to make sure he was okay. As I did, I startled him.
He attempted to jump up, and he seemed to be trying to brace himself for something very unpleasant.
“No, no,” I began. “Keep your seat! I just wanted to say ‘hello’ and meet you!” I tried to reassure him.
He relaxed, smiled and shook my extended hand.
“They let me stay out back here. I’m sort of a night watchman,” he informed me, not knowing that I worked at CDM.
“I see,” I nodded.
“Sure wish I could get my hands on some peanut butter and maybe some bread,” he said. I guessed he was waking up and had decided that I had emerged from the building where he knew we operated a large food pantry.
“I can take care of that for you, I think,” I replied to his simple request.
I returned to the building and gathered a bag of food and drink for him. When I returned, he was sound asleep again. I placed the bag by his blanket and didn’t disturb him further.
As I drove away, he roused up again, discovered the bag of food and waved to me. I drove closer and visited with him about a housing solution. We’re still working on that.
What I cannot remove from my mind is the image of his face when I first approached his little bed. The fear on his face—I’ll always remember it. I know that look must be a learned response, an automatic reaction formed from his many experiences with people like me.
An old, very thin, very poor, very hungry man. . .scared to death of the likes of me.
So many people, it seems, are afraid of the poor.
What we never consider is just how afraid the poor are of those of us who are anything but poor.
The fear of the poor arises from what they suffer at the hands of people who live in the richest nation in the world.
A fear born of being ignored,
shunned,
rejected,
ridiculed,
analyzed,
debated,
embarrassed,
kicked out,
denied,
arrested,
abused,
stereotyped,
scorned,
judged,
imprisoned,
beaten,
and forgotten.
Experience had taught my new friend to be afraid of, of. . .me.
Lots of people fear the poor.
Realizing that people like me are, in fact, the fear of the poor ought to reframe our understanding and change the way we behave.
I remember reading somewhere that “perfect love drives out fear.”
God, have mercy. God, help us.
As I walked to my car, I noticed a blanket spread out on a patch of grass beneath a small shrub near the edge of the parking lot. Stretched out on the blanket was an old man. He appeared to be asleep, even though it was at least an hour before dark arrived and settled in.
I approached him to say hello and to make sure he was okay. As I did, I startled him.
He attempted to jump up, and he seemed to be trying to brace himself for something very unpleasant.
“No, no,” I began. “Keep your seat! I just wanted to say ‘hello’ and meet you!” I tried to reassure him.
He relaxed, smiled and shook my extended hand.
“They let me stay out back here. I’m sort of a night watchman,” he informed me, not knowing that I worked at CDM.
“I see,” I nodded.
“Sure wish I could get my hands on some peanut butter and maybe some bread,” he said. I guessed he was waking up and had decided that I had emerged from the building where he knew we operated a large food pantry.
“I can take care of that for you, I think,” I replied to his simple request.
I returned to the building and gathered a bag of food and drink for him. When I returned, he was sound asleep again. I placed the bag by his blanket and didn’t disturb him further.
As I drove away, he roused up again, discovered the bag of food and waved to me. I drove closer and visited with him about a housing solution. We’re still working on that.
What I cannot remove from my mind is the image of his face when I first approached his little bed. The fear on his face—I’ll always remember it. I know that look must be a learned response, an automatic reaction formed from his many experiences with people like me.
An old, very thin, very poor, very hungry man. . .scared to death of the likes of me.
So many people, it seems, are afraid of the poor.
What we never consider is just how afraid the poor are of those of us who are anything but poor.
The fear of the poor arises from what they suffer at the hands of people who live in the richest nation in the world.
A fear born of being ignored,
shunned,
rejected,
ridiculed,
analyzed,
debated,
embarrassed,
kicked out,
denied,
arrested,
abused,
stereotyped,
scorned,
judged,
imprisoned,
beaten,
and forgotten.
Experience had taught my new friend to be afraid of, of. . .me.
Lots of people fear the poor.
Realizing that people like me are, in fact, the fear of the poor ought to reframe our understanding and change the way we behave.
I remember reading somewhere that “perfect love drives out fear.”
God, have mercy. God, help us.
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