Current
Jan
By Adrienne Harris
Volunteer
2nd & D. That’s how most people who have stayed there refer to the John L. Young Women’s Shelter. It’s one of those places you occasionally hear about when someone is trying to build up her street rep. However, I don’t know whether the “harshness” of the place is all that impressive. D.C.’s resources surpass anything available in the surrounding area, yet the need exceeds anything this city can provide. John L. Young is often the starting point for those facing homelessness in DC. Perhaps it’s the easiest shelter to get into. Nevertheless, doing so is a chore.
The first hurdle is not to become disheartened while waiting in line. Even if you arrive one hour before the doors open, that hour can easily seem like three. This is where you start classifying everyone around you. This one never talks; this one only talks to herself; this one usually just scowls, but if she does say anything, it’s usually at the top of her voice; this one glares at you; this one’s exchanges are more in the nature of performances…
If you took your time, you’d probably come up with ten different groupings, maybe more. Don’t get me wrong; if you took the time to listen, I’m sure each person would tell a unique story. But let’s be real: your situation is too much to deal with at the moment. Not too many people are stupid enough to go there. Or, perhaps I should say that not too many who will eventually get out of there are stupid enough to go there. For those determined to “fix,” or at least improve their situation, focusing on their problem is definitely the order of the day.
Anyway… if your courage holds up, and you actually get to the point of entering the building, the first thing you’ll have to do is open your bags or your luggage. Everything is searched… Scissors? – gone… Razors? – gone… Nail polish? – gone.
How smoothly this process goes depends on 1) the attitudes of those being submitted to this search and 2) the level of hostility coming from security personnel. I was lucky. During my stay, security was pretty good. (Nice people.)
Okay… assuming the most optimistic outcome (for the newcomer, anyway): one of the regulars missed the curfew, so, you have yourself a bed (probably an upper bunk). – For those who’ll have to try again tomorrow, Union Station’s bathrooms are fairly easy to access. – Relief overtakes you to the point of getting giddy or emotional, depending on your level of exhaustion.
Now the paperwork begins. After about what feels like an hour of giving a stranger way too many details about your recent life right there at the front desk (you are sitting, so you don’t quite feel like you’re yelling your business from a mountain top), you are given verbal and written information, a bed number, and sent on your way.
The dorm is basically a warehouse-sized room filled with steel bunks. Once you’ve found your bunk ( a challenge in itself), you prep your bed with the linen that’s been deposited on your mat, and do your best to make yourself at home, all the while stealing glances at your new neighbors.
You will also see a table a few feet away where dinner is served, a few long tables to eat at, and a television with a few folding chairs around it. The bathrooms are to the left.
With any luck, there will be a male staff member around. Let me be clear: I’m as much a feminist as you can get without screaming or carrying a poster around, but from personal experience, I’ve found that one sensible man is worth five stern women as far as maintaining some form of order is concerned.
If you don’t need to go to the restroom, you’ll make your way to the serving table if dinner has begun. Seconds are served only after everyone has had a chance to eat.
By this time, a couple of scenes have unfolded. Perhaps the social worker, or even the facility director, has had to emerge from her office to handle the situation. I’ve received social services in the D.C. area for about 18 months. Wanda, who worked in that office when I was at 2nd & D, was the best social worker I’ve seen during all that time.
Her job seemed impossible. But she pulled it off admirably. I never heard negative words in reference to her, an accomplishment that to my knowledge has yet to be duplicated. She actually LISTENED, and displayed a decent amount of understanding without getting emotional. She made it a point never to allow herself to get friendly and chatty with clients, and she remained impartial. Remarkable.
I could go on, but since I must keep this to 1,000 words, I’ll limit it to this: You will find yourself in the center of a few dramas, regardless of your disposition. You might find your background and ethnic group has more to do with it than anything else. While receiving social services in DC, you’ll find that the African-American culture is the mainstream society in which you’ll have to function, or at least deal with. I’ve received more than a couple of threats, and have been referred to as a “white devil.” How well-trained a facility’s staff members are and what their sentiments are will determine how skillful you will have to be to respond to the situation.
As all this might suggest, I do not recommend John L. Young to anyone. Yet I still carry John L. Young’s number in my coin purse.
Adrienne Harris is a student at University of the District of Columbia. She stayed at John L. Young Shelter a year ago when she was homeless. She now has housing.
Jan
By Gary Minter
Vendor
My late Dad Jim (James Stewart Minter) told me many bedtime stories when I was a little boy. He played and coached us kids at softball
in the dusty field across the street from our house in Villa Park, Illinois. He brought me shakes and burgers at night and sometimes, delicious
sherbet blizzards from Prince Ice Cream Castle. Sometimes Mom, Dad and I would eat at one of the first McDonald’s that Ray Kroc built, the
French fries were so good!
One Christmas, Dad dressed up like Santa, and each year he and I brought home the double-needle balsam tree. We all decorated our tree
with colorful lights, shimmering ornaments, and lots of silvery tinsel.
Each summer Dad drove my Mom and me to Mom’s ancestral home, Washburn, Wisconsin, a tiny village nestled on the rocky shores
of cold Lake Superior.
Dad worked at the Continental Bank, and later as a salesman for Homelite chain saws, pumps, and generators. He drove a lot in the Chicago area,
and knew the suburbs well…
Dad started having dizzy spells when I finished college at Duke, around the time I married Betty and my son Stewart was born…
He had multiple brain tumors, during that decade my mom cared for him, helped him regain some strength. Each summer Stewart and I visited
Mom and Dad in Glen Ellyn,Illinois, walk with him around Lake Ellyn, feed the birds, play Chinese checkers. Dad always said “push ‘em up Tony” when he made his move on the checkerboard with dragons on it.
Dad passed away of pneumonia 29 years ago today, January 3rd, 1983. I wish I had been with Dad more those last years…He was a kind and gentle
man, a Chicago White Sox fan! Dad took me to watch the White Sox beat the Cleveland Indians for the 1959 American League pennant!
Dad never told me the story of his first wife, a brief marriage, or his first son, my half-brother, whom I’ve never met. Mom finally told me about my half-brother a few years before she passed away of kidney failure in March, 2007, right after her birthday…
“O half-brother, where art thou?”
What is thy name?
Inspired by the poem “Dusk”by Naomi Shihab Nye
By Ivory Wilson
Vendor
In 1960, some people were having fun swimming and riding boats in the lagoon. A large green reptile came from the deep water to see what all the noise was about.
But Nessie was not welcome. Her picture was taken and posted on the evening news throughout the British Isles for every family living in Scotland and London to see what was living and swimming in the lagoon. Even Queen Elizabeth saw Nessie’s picture on the evening news.
“Oh dear, Nessie is back,” she said.
Since 1817, every queen of England swore to protect Nessie from harm. And Queen Elizabeth believed it was now her turn to do so. She knew that many people would come from every part of the world to try to find Nessie.
Queen Elizabeth walked to her window and looked out at the night sky. She stared toward the lagoon that was 300 yards from the castle. She used to sit and feed Nessie fish from there. Looking around the land, she thought, “I’m the Queen of these lands, protector of its people and of all the animals, large and small, that live here. And I will do so for Nessie.”
Queen Elizabeth couldn’t wait to see Nessie again. She remembered when Albert would drive her to feed Nessie before having morning tea.
“I must hurry if I’m going to save Nessie,” she thought. The Queen went to bed and fell asleep dreaming about how to save her Nessie from exploitation and capture.
The next morning she awoke to a knock at the door. It was Albert, her loyal servant for many years, along with two lady servants bringing towels for her bath. The lady servants proceeded to the bathroom and started running the bath water.
Albert walked to the Queen’s bedside and held her breakfast tray. Queen Elizabeth looked at him and said softly, “Albert, my old and most trusted friend, my Nessie is back.”
“Yes, my Queen, I too saw her on the telly last night,” Albert said.
The Queen got out of bed and walked to her window, looking out at the lagoon. “Albert, my dearest friend, after my bath, bring the car around. We must go to the lagoon. I want to see her.”
“Why yes, it would be a pleasure to see her again,” Albert said.
He brought the car around and put in his bagpipes and a big basket of fish for Nessie. Albert remembered the many years he had taken the Queen down to the lagoon and played his bagpipes in the special tones that only Nessie hears.
After the Queen took a long, hot bath, she dressed and put on one of her largest hats. Albert drove the Queen to the lagoon and helped her out of the car. He walked back to the trunk and removed the bucket of fish and his bagpipes. He handed the bucket of fish to the Queen and played his bagpipes.
Twenty minutes passed and it seemed Nessie wouldn’t show. The Queen held the basket of fish tightly in her hands and looked into the water. She worried Nessie would not come.
Suddenly, bubbles appeared in the water. The Queen smiled.
“Albert,” she said, wiping a tear from her eye. “She remembers. Nessie remembers, Albert.”
Albert laughed and put his bagpipes back in the car. “Yes, my Queen, she remembers.”
Nessie’s head and long neck popped up from the water. She swam to the Queen. The Queen opened up her basket and started to feed Nessie fish, thinking about how she used to feed her when she was a little girl.
“My beautiful Nessie,” she murmured. “Why have you come back here after being gone for so many years? People will be coming here now to hunt you. Now that you’re back, they’re trying to find you. Listen to me. It’s not safe. You must go back.”
More bubbles started to appear. Two little heads with long necks popped up. Queen Elizabeth fed the fish to Nessie and her young. When she finished she said, “Come now, Albert. We have much work to do if we are to save Nessie and her young.”
Albert drove the Queen back to the castle. The Queen told him to summon all the servants into the courtyard.
“All of them?” Albert asked.
“Yes, and have Charles come to my room,” she replied.
Albert parked the car and helped the Queen out. She walked into the castle and up to her bedroom. Albert drove away to find Prince Charles.
An hour later, Prince Charles came to the Queen’s bedroom.
“What is it, mother? I have a polo game today,” he said.
“It will have to wait. Come to the window with me, Charles,” the Queen said. They looked toward the lagoon.
“Charles, our Nessie has come home and she has young to raise,” Queen Elizabeth said.
There was a knock at the door.
“Do come in, Albert,” the Queen said.
“Everyone is standing in the courtyard, as you ordered, my Queen,” Albert said.
“Yes, I will see them. Thank you, Albert,” she said. Albert turned to leave. “Albert, don’t leave,” the Queen said. “Close the door.”
Queen Elizabeth looked out the window on the servants and said, “I, Queen Elizabeth, ruler of this land, am going to ask you for your help. An old friend has come home and I need your help to protect her and her young. I cannot do it alone.”
Most of the older woman servants had been there almost as long as Albert and knew of what the Queen was speaking.
“I have a plan, not an impossible one, but one involving large constructions that will require tremendously long hours of work. Under the castle, I shall build a safe haven for Nessie and her young. I want an underground tunnel extending from the castle to the lagoon. A large metal gate that opens and closes will sit at the end of this tunnel, where the water meets the land. I need your help keeping this secret from the public and the press. For your loyalty to England and to me, your Queen, you will be greatly rewarded. Nessie belongs to England. This is her home. God granted her to us and it is our duty to protect her and her offspring. She is not just my Nessie, she is our Nessie.”
So the decision was made. Prince Charles set out to hire the engineers, contractors and construction workers who would be needed to build the tunnel and who he knew were loyal to England and the Queen. They worked hard around the clock. Dump trucks came into the castle early and left with loads of dirt.
The work began in 1960 and lasted for more than 20 years. A huge metal gate was built underwater and only Queen Elizabeth could control when it opened and closed. That stopped mini-sub operators, as well as divers and other curious people from entering the castle. Years have passed and scientists, explorers and researchers in submarines have traveled deep into the lagoon, with no luck. Even now, people search for Nessie. But only Queen Elizabeth and her loyal servants know where Nessie and her young live today.
Jan
By Phillip Black
Vendor / The “Cat in the Hat”
To me, 2012 means better days ahead. In order to have better days, I will start making better decisions and better choices for myself. In the past, I would make a New Year’s resolution, but always break it.
For a long time, I always kept myself in bad environments and around the wrong people. I was always very hard on myself: saying one thing, and doing another. But as time went by, I began to believe in myself more. I stayed away from people I should have stayed away from a long time ago.
Watching what you eat and avoiding alcohol can also bring better days. Being kind can bring better days. Now, don’t get me wrong, you and I may have problems. But dealing with your problems with a healthy mind and heart will always bring better days.
Jan
By Michael Pennycook
Vendor
Well, a lot of people ask me, “Why don’t you smile?”
I have had this problem all my life. People say, “You look good when you smile, Mike.” But for a long time I never smiled. It wasn’t because I wasn’t happy. I just didn’t have a reason to smile.
When I was growing up I was always depressed, trying to fit in with everybody. By the time I was 18 years old I had dropped out of school with a 3.4 GPA because I was working two jobs and I thought my life was good. But I lost both of my jobs, so I moved to Ocean City, Md., to start over again.
When I first got to Ocean City I got a job working at a hotel as a housekeeper. A year went by and I was doing good work, so I went to visit my family in Washington. One of my uncles was working at the University of Maryland and he asked me if I would like to work there with him at the warehouse. So I quit my job and moved back with my aunt and uncle.
I started at the warehouse, and after three years there was an opening for a loading dock manager. I applied and got the job two weeks later. At the age of 23 I was a manager and I thought I would never have to look for a job again. In 2008 my aunt died. She was like my mom and so it was hard for me. I got laid off a few weeks after she died.
My life went downhill after that. I lost my apartment and everything. I was couch-hopping for a while. Then it started getting cold, and I went to the shelter. I stayed in the shelter for a week and I just could not stay in there. It was very unsafe for me. That was when I was really on the street.
I had to learn how to live on the street, and let me tell you, the street will EAT U ALIVE if you ask a question. I found a couple of places where I could go eat lunch or dinner and take a shower. I would ride the bus or train to get some sleep. I used to sneak into an apartment complex at night and sleep in a closet a few times a week to get some good sleep.
To get money I would ask people at the Metro station, but it was hard because most people would give me a nickel or 30 cents or, if I was lucky, someone would give me a dollar. It was like, one day you got a job and a place and the next day you don’t have anywhere to live or a job and what you gonna do?
But now I look back and “smile” because I’m back on the right track, all thanks to Street Sense and the readers. If I had never joined Street Sense, I would probably be locked up or dead. I can’t give enough thanks to the readers and to Street Sense. Now I smile every day. Thanks to everyone, I got my smile back.
Jan
By Eric Falquero, Matt LeDuc, and Brett Mohar
Managing Editor and Volunteers
“You must be the change you wish to see in the world.”-
On Jan. 16, over 75 community and student volunteers, mostly young adults in their 20s and early 30s found themselves living by those words, spoken by the great Indian pacifist leader Mahatma Gandhi. They spent the Martin Luther King, Jr. (MLK) Day of Service, painting such inspirational quotes as well as bright images in the hallways of Tyler Elementary School in Southeast.
“They’re painting dancing fruits and vegetables in our cafeteria. We have a big wellness initiative here and it will just be a visual reminder that fresh fruits and vegetables are healthy for you,” said Jennifer Frentress, the principal. “We have both a literacy and a math initiative, so having the math facts up the risers and the words on the walls, the kids notice it right away…it ties into the work that we’re doing.”
The painting project was part of a larger beautification effort that took place in honor of Dr. King. Children worked next to senior citizens to clean up the whole campus and enhance what was already there. They became part of something much bigger, a day of service that got its start just four days after King was fatally shot in April 1968.
A Long Road
Those days later, legislation for a federal holiday in honor of MLK was introduced. It was greatly opposed, pointing to the fact that only Christopher Columbus and George Washington were honored by this sort holiday, and citing the financial burden of paying so many employees for another day off.
The next year, the King Center (founded June 1968), sponsored an observance of King’s birthday and campaigned for national celebration of his life.
In the years to follow, preceding federal acknowledgment, union workers demonstrated for the right to observe the day – after all, King was shot while supporting a American Federation of State, County and Municipal Employees strike. Schools were closed in Chicago when city employees were ordered to work on MLK’s birthday, and teachers went on strike: schools have closed on MLK Day since. 80,000 dressmakers and over 25,000 hospital workers in New York went on strike, separately, until they were awarded better wages, better benefits, and a paid holiday in honor of MLK
With continued labor demonstrations, a record-breaking petition (6 million signatures for a King Day bill), and a corporate-funded campaign through the King center, congress finally voted in favor of a MLK Day by overwhelming majority, and President Nixon signed the bill in 1983.
The first federal holiday in honor of MLK was observed in 1986, and has occurred every 3rd Monday of January since. The day of service has evolved over time to provide help where it is really needed. That first celebration by the King center really set the tone: celebrating his life through education in his teachings and nonviolent action to carry forward his unfinished work.
Volunteering
“We have so much work, we can’t possibly get our work done without community helpers. So we have really reached out to the community,” said Frentress. She said that when volunteers get involved with projects like this, they learn how incredibly beneficial their time can be.
The school improvement project was coordinated by HandsOn Greater DC Cares, a nonprofit network that matches volunteers to nonprofits, foundations, and projects in the District, Virginia, and Maryland. The organization’s website claims a network of more than 860 nonprofits and 43,000 volunteers. Tyler Elementary was one of 35 sites that made up Greater DC Cares’ MLK Day of Service project, which brought out approximately 2,000 volunteers. This year marked Greater DC Cares’ 13th annual MLK Day of Service.
The nonprofit worked to find projects to fit people’s interests and talents. Many volunteers were looking for a way to give back to their community, and many felt it particularly important to contribute to their neighborhood schools. Some said they picked this project in particular because of their interest in literacy and education.
The System Supports Service
While all of the work accomplished on the MLK Day of Service is completely voluntary, the opportunity to observe the holday is enshrined by legislation. Under the Clinton presidency, Congress passed the King Holiday and Service Act in 1994. The act mandates that the Corporation for National Service, established just a year before, heads up planning for the MLK Day as a day of service.
The Corporation is a merger of two older government agencies with a goal of “building a culture of citizenship, service, and responsibility,” according to NationalService.gov. It was created to manage government service programs like AmeriCorp, and Learn and Serve America – which the MLK Day of Service falls under.
President Obama renewed the government’s commitment to service through the Corporation when he signed the Edward M. Kennedy Serve America Act in 2010 which reauthorizes and expands national service programs administered by the Corporation for National and Community Service.
The Corporation also provides that every state, and the District, have a Service Commission. These commissions award and evaluate AmeriCorp grants, but they are also charged with encouraging volunteerism within their respective states. DC’s Commission of Service is Serve DC.
Collaborating for Success
As part of their mission to encourage volunteerism, Serve DC has made the MLK Day of Service, part of its Seasons of Service calendar – the first one of the year. This year marked the office’s 11th annual involvement in project planning for the day, and their 6th year in partnership with a particular nonprofit – We Feed Our People (WFOP).
“For us, it’s about collaboration and ending the product cycle of homelessness,” said Carly Skidmore, events and outreach specialist with Serve DC.
As the name might suggest, WFOP feeds people. According to their WeFeedOurPeople.org, the project started in 1988 – two years after it was first celebrated, when three friends realized that many service organizations and offices for benefit programs would close for the federal holiday, thus inadvertently harming the poor that King fought for. The founders pooled the money they would receive for their paid holiday and cooked for the handful of people that were living in the park next to the MLK Memorial Library downtown.
This year there were about 1000 people in attendance, according to Herman Fortson, the director for WFOP. “It was about a one to one ratio out there, slightly more people serving than being served even.”
The event lasted ran from about 10 a.m. to 4 p.m.
Long line of tables with trays of food; many volunteers serving hot meals; some tables set up near the the library doors for people to get off their feet while they eat; warm clothes being handed out; the core of the event has only strengthened. With Serve DC’s involvement in the past years, WFOP now offers HIV/AIDS testing and employment services, provided by Calvary Council Care, and DC Dept. of Employment Services respectively. These additional agencies run their services out of mobile units, to provide more privacy for clients.
“I appreciate the fact that this is really a collaboration of the public, the library, the city, and community based organizations coming together to meet a certain need, said Hugh Bailey, Associate director for One Stop Operations at the DC Dept. of Employment Services.
Bailey was a little disappointed that only around a dozen people had visited his mobile unit by mid day. He acknowledged that WFOP is more focused on basic needs like food and clothing, but he is ready to help many more.
“Dedicated people and nonprofits in the District and throughout the country carry out Dr. King’s legacy each and every day,” remarked Lisa Estrada, Street Sense board chair. “The next phase in his fight for civil rights was to be focused on the poor and the dignity that can be achieved through empowering people to help themselves.”
Jan
By Jeffery McNeil
Vendor
Summary of Part 1: Growing up in Pittsburgh, PA, Rollin’ Thunder tolerated racist insults from a group of white children his age. The insults stopped when the children realized he was a football prodigy. Now Rollin’ Thunder continues with his story:
After everyone left, Chad’s father grabbed me and asked, “Where did you learn to play?” I replied, “I’ve never played before. “ Then Chad’s father made clear what was expected. “I coach the junior high football team. If you want to play for me, I have three rules: don’t be late for practice; you must have passing grades, and no fights. Is that understood?” I nodded my head, yes.
I ran home to tell my parents. They weren’t too pleased when they found out what happened. “I do not want you playing sports,” my father said. “I want you to get an education and become a doctor or a lawyer.”
I didn’t understand why my father was against my playing football. My mother explained that he had played Negro league baseball and dreamed of being in the majors one day. But by the time Jackie Robinson went to the Dodgers, the scouts said he was too old to play. He resented being labeled “too old” and never talked about it.
I was discouraged. But one day I heard a knock on my door. It was Chad’s father. After a long conversation with my parents, he convinced them that I should be allowed to play.
I showed up at practice. They had a throwing drill to see who could throw the farthest. I threw the ball so far that even the kids who didn’t want me on their team were astonished. Later on in practice, the coach tried me at quarterback. He told me to run a quarterback draw, and I faked like I was going to pass and headed for the end zone. By the end of the day, even Chad, who’d picked a fight with me, came up to me and said, “good game.“ We became friends, and he came to my defense when anyone said something mean.
By my senior year, college coaches and scouts came from all over the country. Everyone thought I could play in the pros. One day hometown legend Joe Namath showed up in the stands. When he saw me throw a pass, he said, “Who is this guy?”
College coaches from Bear Bryant to Woody Hayes came to my house and shamelessly tried to charm my parents. Ohio State Coach Hayes was the best. He’d promised them’ I would be the starting quarterback and get an education. My parents were sold. I was going to be a Buckeye.
When I got to the campus I was consider a phenom. The first game, I started. I threw for 300 yards, including an 80-yard touchdown pass. But even though I lead the Big Ten in total yards, many said I that I couldn’t be a pro quarterback. Opposing coaches would taunt me with racist comments and players would take cheap shots by hitting me after the play ended.
As my success grew I attracted a lot of parasites and leeches. My life took a turn when I was invited to a party. Everyone was drinking and dancing. I went to use to the bathroom saw and saw two pretty girls snorting lines of coke. They asked me to join them. I was reluctant but ending up doing lines with them.
I soon was hooked.
My personality changed. I would be late for practice, stopped going to class and partied all night. However my play didn’t suffer. I was touted to win the Heisman Trophy, the highest honor in college football.
Although I didn’t win the Heisman I was drafted by the Pittsburgh Steelers. Being drafted by my hometown team was exciting. They gave me a hero’s welcome. Chad’s father and his son were the first to welcome me. The Mayor gave me the keys to the city, and my parents were struck with emotion and said they were “proud of me.”
After everyone left I called my drug dealer.
When I got to training camp expectations were high. The players knew I was the star. The veterans resented me because I was the highest paid player. Chuck Knoll, the coach, said, “we paid a lot of money for you and we expect to win, don’t let me down. “
The pressure to perform made me withdraw. I felt alone and would drink. The first game of the season I was so nervous I vomited in the locker-room. The coach didn’t start me because he didn’t think I was ready to play. After three games our two quarterbacks were injured. The coach told me to go out to the field.
We were losing to the Bears 21-7. I was nursing a hangover from the night before and barely could stay awake. On the very first play I got hit so hard I saw stars as I lay on the ground. The linebacker who hit me was Dick Butkus. He said, “Welcome to the NFL, @#hole.”
The next play I ran fifty yards and stiff-armed Butkus for a touchdown. The fans went crazy and on the final play I scored a touchdown to win the game. After the game I was craving some coke. I called my drug dealer and got high. I became the starting quarterback and we went to the playoffs.
The next season we were predicted to win the Super Bowl. The first game of the season, I was running down the sidelines when I heard something snap. I fell to the ground, and when the doctor came he shook his head and said, “It’s over, you’re done. You can never play again”.
I was devastated; I tried to call my former friends and got no answer. Endorsements stopped coming. The collection agencies repossessed my house and my prize possession, which was a Bentley. Even the dog ran away.
My life became worse. I was a full-fledged junkie who was desperate. I had no money, couldn’t find a job. Football was l all I knew.
I ended up homeless, roaming the streets of Pittsburgh looking for a hit of coke. Many who remembered me avoided me. They would grab their kids and run.
I was so desperate I stole a gun and broke into my friend Chad’s house. I crawled through the window looking for something to steal. When Chad screamed “Rollin’, is that you?” I broke down and said, “I need help.“ We both had guns. I was going to put down my gun when it went off. A stray bullet hit Chad and he fired back and hit me in the chest.
As we lay on the ground, Chad was motionless. He was dead. The police arrested me and I went to jail for 20 years.
I was placed on a suicide watch. As the months became years I started going to the prison chapel. One day a pastor gave a powerful sermon on repentance. He read Acts and preached about the gospel of Paul on the way to Damascus. I got baptized right then. I then would go to the prison library and read the bible and the works of Jesus Christ.
I started talking to gang members about what happens if you are lead astray.
One day the warden said, “Someone is here to see you.” It was Chad’s son. He was 18 years old and a star quarterback for Ohio State. He was a believer also and I wept. I asked for his forgiveness. He said, “pray with me“ and we prayed together.
He advocated for my release and I finally got out.
Today I coach the high school team I played for, and help youth who are in the throes of addiction.
I thank my lord and savior for the second chance.
THE END
Jan
By Robert Warren
Vendor
Oh, as I go on, how can I find in me what I need from others?
Too much fear of the Lord, too much pain, to be anything but who I am.
Now as I look back on the lives lost to times that never made sense to me,
Why? is always the question. Why does it have to be?
Yes, it was probably written a Long Time Ago.
The Lord’s words say that the Lord knew you before you were in your mother’s womb.
And if only I could remember those times when I knew you and you knew me.
And now to try and change to get to know me. What more do I need to know? What more do I need to see?.
If I could only remember my dreams and follow through with plans, not sidetracking myself by sleeping my life away trying to dream.
Ah, if I could remember my dreams, that would be change.
Jan
By Brandon Caudill
Volunteer
Veda Simpson has taken her act to the web! The veteran Street Sense vendor has become the newest member of Twitter and Facebook, although you’ll still have to head to her usual selling spot at the corner of 13th and G Street (near the Street Sense office) to get a chance to hear her famous singing.
“I’m known for the singing,” said Veda. “I’m the only vendor that sings (while selling the paper.)”
In fact, Veda says she once received an offer to record her singing on her own CD. Veda turned down the offer, though.
“I just like doing what I’m doing.”
Veda has come a long way since joining Street Sense over four years ago. Before then Veda had been homeless and was dealing with a history of drug abuse.
“I’d sneak into wherever I could get a roof over my head.”
That all changed after a friend referred Veda to Street Sense. Since then Veda said she has found a new home and a new lease on life.
“Street Sense has helped me a whole lot. It’s helped me mentally and financially. I’m a lot more responsible. I use to deal drugs but I’ve been off drugs since joining Street Sense.”
Veda now has an apartment in the North Capitol area. Perhaps more importantly she has gained the support of many new friends.
“My customers have been very supportive. They talk to me and give me a lot of encouraging words.”
Although for Veda “friends” is a privileged term.
“I like to think of people as acquaintances,” said Veda. Her friends are waiting for her at home. They are her eight cats.
“I love animals. Some people can treat animals so terribly,” said Veda. “Now that I’ve become more responsible I’m in school training to be a veterinarian.”
Even on a budget, Veda is able give her “friends” all the care they need. She was even able to train them to use the toilet to save money on cat litter.
“My dream is to get a place out in the country with a lot of land for my animals.”
As much as she loves animals, Veda still has one greater love.
“My best friend is God,” said Veda. “I’ve always been a spiritual person.”
Veda says her faith has helped lead her in the right direction, quoting Proverbs 3:5-6
“Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight.”
Her faith especially shines through when she’s singing. She says her favorite music is spiritual songs.
“I’ve been taught a new way of living,” said Veda. “I’m happy to be alive.”
Favorite Food: Soul Food
Favorite Movies: Action and Scary Movies
By Ted Henson
The origins of the “Dixon Case” go back to 1974, when a class action lawsuit was filed against the federal government and District government on behalf of individuals civilly-committed to Saint Elizabeths Hospital in Southeast D.C. The plaintiffs demanded community-based treatment alternatives to hospitalization for mental illness. The lawsuit was part of a much larger deinstitutionalization movement that swept the nation, driven by a growing awareness of patient’s rights and the development of anti-psychotic drugs. Deinstitutionalized patients were supposed to receive ongoing community-based support and care, but instead, many languished and some ended up homeless. The settlement of the Dixon case includes an emphasis upon community-based care and housing for former mental patients. Under the terms of the Dixon settlement, the District’s Department of Mental Health (DMH) was required to meet 19 exit criteria. A recent court ruling has stated that the DMH has met 15 of these 19 criteria but still needs to make progress on the four outstanding criteria.
When the lawsuit was filed in 1974, there were nearly 3,600 patients at St. Elizabeths. As a result of deinstitutionalization and a shift in policy by the Department of Mental Health to provide the primary treatment of individuals at community-based mental health providers, the current number of patients at St. Elizabeths has decreased dramatically. There are currently around 270 patients at the hospital.
Henson: In reference to the Dixon criteria, you recently said that the settlement agreement is “a recognition of tremendous progress…not a recognition of a job completed.” Can you give our readers a brief overview of the progress you have made regarding meeting the 19 exit criteria and what’s left to be done?
Baron: In reference to the Dixon exit criteria, there were 19 stated exit criteria and we have met or substantially met 15 of them. Some of the highlights of the ones we have met include more District residents getting mental health services and for certain important services, such as Assertive Community Treatment, more District residents are receiving services in a timely manner. The department has a methodology to gauge consumer satisfaction and we have an active process to look at that. We have a process/way to ensure that people’s needs are matched to the services that they are getting. We are using new generations of medicines. Also, children are getting services in their natural settings. For the four remaining areas the District will have a two year agreement with the Plaintiff’s lawyers that focuses on Supported Housing, Supported Employment, Continuity of Care and children’s mental health services.
Henson: The agreement called for an expansion in affordable housing, which dovetails nicely with the efforts of many homeless advocacy for increased housing for the chronically homeless and the mentally ill. What progress has been made on this front?
Baron: There has been tremendous progress. The exit criteria addressed the right area of supportive housing but the criteria related to the timeline of 70 percent of individuals served within 45 days of receiving a voucher was unrealistic due to the many requirements in issuing vouchers to ensuring a housing unit is inspected and meets all of the requirements. The Department of Mental Health has secured or developed about 1,300 supportive housing vouchers. In addition, over the last couple of years we have moved $14 million to the Department of Housing and Community Development that will create about 230 new units for individuals with mental illness and will renovate about 100 units in place. This housing is usually part of larger housing projects and recipients of the capital funds have included SOME, Jubilee House, Open Arms and Hyacinth’s Place to name a few. We recognize there is more needed in this area and part of the agreement is that over the next two years (by Sept 30, 2013) the District will develop 300 new supportive housing units.
Henson: Do you anticipate funding/budget fights around appropriations or funding for this mandate?
Baron: Funding for FY2012 for 100 units of housing is already in the budget. Continuation for 100 units in 2013 is also in the budget. I am confident that the 2013 budget will include funding for another 100 units (200 total) and the other 100 will be made available primarily through new capital developments
Henson: Through deinstitutionalization and under the terms of the settlement, 98 percent of the District’s mentally ill patients are treated in community-based health clinics. Can you talk about how this shift to community care reflects a larger shift in thinking about social services provision, both for mental health care and beyond?
Baron: In 1974, when the Dixon agreement was initiated, the population at Saint Elizabeth’s Hospital was 3,600. Today the census is about 280. The ending of this suit marks progress, not just in meeting the vast majority of the 19 exit criteria but a recognition of the expansion of community services in the District. Today about 20,000 District residents receive community-based services during the year and the Department has expanded the type and range of community services.
For example, Assertive Community Treatment (ACT) which is an evidence-based service for individuals for very complex needs is now serving about 1,200 District residents when just a few years ago it was serving about 400 individuals. We’ve created a very effective mobile crisis program that can respond to people having a psychiatric emergency anywhere in the community and we have worked with MPD(the Metropolitan Police Department) to train officers as Crisis Intervention Officers (CIO) to better respond to individuals experiencing a psychiatric crisis. We are trying to build a comprehensive system of care but there are still challenges in that work.
Henson: How has your Department focused on ending chronic homelessness?
Baron: Our housing initiatives are prioritizing homeless people with a mental illness. Pathways to Housing, which is geared to the Housing First model, is a major partner of the Department. The Department has a Homeless Outreach Program (HOP) that works closely with shelters and other providers to help connect individuals who are homeless and in need of housing and mental health services to the necessary services and we work closely with other District agencies such as the Department of Human Services in our efforts. The goal is to marry flexible individual services with affordable, safe housing.
Henson: Can you speak generally about your background and your experience prior to working in the District at the Department of Mental Health (DMH)?
Baron: I got a master’s from Howard University School of Social Work in the late 1970s and had a field placement at Saint Elizabeths Hospital. After graduate school I worked at Sinai Hospital in Baltimore—I’m a Baltimore native—and I was the liaison to the state hospital. During my 10 years at Sinai, I helped develop a community based rehabilitation program for individuals with a serious mental illness called People Encouraging People, Inc. (PEP). From 1988 to 2006 I was the President/CEO of Baltimore Mental Health Systems, Inc. (BMHS) which was responsible for managing the Baltimore public mental health system. BMHS was established through a major nine-city Robert Wood Johnson Foundation project on local mental health authorities. I came here in 2006.
Ted Henson is the co-founder of Street Sense. He is currently pursuing a master’s degree at the Harvard School of Public Health in Boston.
