Staying Sane

When we originally brainstormed the topics for the retreat, the volunteers were asked what they wanted to learn about homelessness, and the youth were asked what they thought we needed to know. I was not surprised that the topic of basic needs emerged from often mentioned topics like food, showers, clothing, etc. I hadn't expected all the youth to suggest that we talk about staying sane. Gabe volunteered to be our presenter.

Gabe has been through a lot of crap. Despite it all, he is quite well adjusted.



Gabe's key points:

• Stay out of the sun, lest ye become sunbaked crazy.
• Entertain yourself. Even if it means talking to yourself.
• Stay engaged in what you are doing and aware of your surroundings.
• Get friends, and stay in touch with them.
• Stay off drugs.

Networking

After our visit to CASS and Andre House, we travel to our final location. Here we unpack and create a sitting area with our blankets. I had intended to keep the location's proximity to the Youth House secret to prevent people taking a bunch of trips there, as it was about half a block away down an alley. Alas, John could not be fooled. He's visited the house 200 times in a year and coordinated extensive repairs.

After settling in, we went on to our third talk of the day: Networking. John had been chosen to give the presentation. His networking skills have transformed the house from a disaster to an inviting home. He also has an admirably professional attitude that when taken with his creative initiative means he gets stuff done.

Unfortunately, the lighting was very poor for John's talk, so again we must rely on notes.

John defines a network as a social structure with common interests. Networking is developing and utilizing this structure. He insisted that we think of ourselves as people with something to offer and that we should strive for two-sided compromise.

Practically, start small. Tell your story. John also emphasized the importance of the Elevator Speech, a 30-seconds to one-minute pitch for Stand Up For Kids. He suggested that we practice them out loud and that we try to be memorable (maybe even funny). He also encouraged the use of mixed media. Ideally, use three types of media to create a network connection.

"Don't fear the big shots," he says. "Have no fear - get over worrying about rejection."

After his speech we crafted elevator pitches and gave them to each other.

Visiting CASS

Andre House is only two blocks from Central Arizona Shelter Services (CASS), the major shelter in Phoenix. Many of the volunteers have never been, so we decide to swing by. Gabe guides us through the campus and identifies the dentist, the AA building, the shelter, and so on. In truth, he doesn't seem entirely comfortable leading us around, so I decide to keep the visit short. We take a single lap around the front yard, which consists of about 50 people sitting at tables placed on plastic grass turf. 75 to 100 more people are on the streets and sidewalks outside the shelter.

CASS is a story for a different day. Suffice it to say that while CASS is the largest and most comprehensive service to homeless persons, it has something of a draconian reputation. Gabe has a second explanation of the acronym: Corrupt Association of Shelter Services.

Andre House

The Andre House food line is famous among certain circles. If you haven't heard of it, you probably have never been homeless in downtown Phoenix. When we asked the youth a few months ago to help brainstorm activities for the retreat that would help the volunteers better understand the what it meant to be homeless, they had tons of suggestions. But one rose above the rest: "If you guys really want a taste, go through the Andre Food line."

At first I was hesitant. I was not at all interested in taking food out of the mouths of the hungry so that me and my little team could play at homelessness. But the youth insisted that the everyone would get fed and that us being there wouldn't be a problem. Just to be sure, I checked out the Andre House website, which makes it clear that all were welcome in the food line. So I put it on the schedule and made a donation to offset the cost of our meal.

Andre House was founded in 1984 by a pair of Catholic priests. What started as a simple invitation to a handful of people to stay the night has grown into many ministries. Andre House feeds 500 people daily and provides transitional housing for 11 people at a time, clothing to 150 weekly, laundry, showers, lockers, shoe vouchers, and blanket distribution. It also has daily Mass.

I felt it inappropriate to take pictures during our visit. While the members of our retreat agreed to be photographed and recorded, the people receiving Andre House's services did not. So you will have to rely on my memories.

We arrived at Andre House around 4:45 p.m. It is in the vicinity of the Central Arizona Shelter System and the other organizations that serve the homeless. The most striking element of the streets near these organizations is all the people in the actual street. There isn't a lot of through traffic, and most people are on foot. Perhaps there are more astute sociological explanations. Maybe there is a fearlessness associated with homelessness that makes cars the least of their worries. In a few cases, I think the liberal use of the streets is the result of substance use. Perhaps it is no more complex than sidewalks more often being used for sitting or sleeping.

When getting food at Andre, the first step is the line. We are given a one-square-inch piece of colored paper with a number printed on it. After the line, we sit on benches behind the building with shade structures overhead. The numbers ensure no seat swapping happens on the benches. While I understand the purpose of the benches and shade, namely that it is more comfortable than standing in the sun, I can't help but feel herded into a waiting stall.

We sit there for an hour. I think to myself that I could earn the cost of the free dinner in half the time it takes to wait for it.

Gabe is sitting next to me. He is my cultural interpreter. "The lady right there is going cold turkey." Maybe I'm hungry, but I think for a second he is talking about turkey, so I ask him to repeat. He gestures with his head, and notes her incessant scratching. "She's coming off something," he clarifies.

Gabe recounts story after story. He has seen people shoot up under the shade tent. He tells a handful of stories about the "fucking-psycho tourettes kid." Apparently he was let into CASS even though he was underage because his condition was so bad. One day in the Andre line, a large, intimidating man bumped into the psycho tourettes kid, and the tiny kid turned around and went insane on the huge man.

"Then we've got that," Gabe points, "people trying to sell their stuff." The Andre House line is also a place to buy rolled cigarettes and less legal paraphernalia. Currently it looks like someone is selling some kind of white packaged food item.

"Cops roll around here all the time looking for druggies and people sleeping on the streets. The sidewalk belongs to the church, and the other side belongs to CASS, so the only thing left to sleep on is the street."

After sitting for 45 minutes or more, the door to Andre House opens. The wheelchairs enter using the wheelchair ramp. A smiling woman collects the torn-off tickets in a red plastic coffee can. The first row starts to rustle. When the wheelchairs are all in, the first row goes up a set of stairs into the building.

Now it is our turn. We stand and process up. All the volunteers are smiling. It is pretty noisy in the building. I am served goulash. It is possible it is goat goulash. I am also given a salad, mixed fruit salad, and a small drinkable yogurt. The cafeteria tables are full of people already eating. A large portrait of St. Andre looks over us as we dine.

We take a moment of gratitude and dig in. Very soon bargains are being made. I get 3/4 of someone's goulash in exchange for my yogurt. I want the starchy carbs. A few people don't finish parts of their meal. Michael and I attend to the scraps.

On the way out, a young woman gives me a brown paper bag with a peanut butter and grape jelly sandwich in it. It feels good to get handed food when full, as it give me comfort for the future. I do, however, immediately worry for the people with peanut allergies.

Walking West on Jefferson in the Late Afternoon...

... sucks.

Generally, I think of all the homeless service centers as being close together. But then, I'm usually speeding in my car.

Walking is such a different matter. The homeless youth are pretty savvy about public transportation, but today is Saturday, and that means less options. The overall upshot is a lot of walking. Now, I am a healthy guy. I walk to work every day. I hike. I run from time to time. But damn. All this walking generally sucks.

But the worst of it is walking west on Jefferson in the late afternoon. A few reasons:

1.) We are walking straight into the sun.

We have been outside most of the day, and whatever minor sunburns we may have had are beginning to mature. I also feel dried out. Baked.

2.) Zero shade.

There is a tall building for half a block, but after that, the empty dirt lots and chain link fences to the left provide scant shelter from the sun. A few of us put in the effort to walk zigzag paths to get what little shade can be had from the occasional palm tree. The rest of us are too tired to chase shade.

3.) Carrying stuff.

The backpack is getting heavy by this point in the day. Gabe has discussed the danger of "having" when one is homeless. Having things means carrying, protecting, and worrying about things. At the moment, I wish I had nothing to carry, but that would also mean having nothing to sleep under.

Unfortunately, I must continues down Jefferson. There isn't a better street to walk down, and it can't be at a different time. So we walk.

Walking with Matt

Matt is our youngest retreatant. As such, his take on the difficulties of being homeless are different that others. The physical aspect isn't his chief concern. His main worry:

Boredom.

He generally finds the waiting for things to happen maddening and suggests that it is the lack of stimulation that would get to him first. He also cites unreliable access to food and uncertainty about sleeping arrangements as hard to deal with.



The lesson here? There are various types of fitness, and as such, the trials of deprivation play out differently. Matt crafts his particular story about homelessness because of his embodied immunity to particular discomforts. At his age, his body is made out of rubber bands shot full of adrenaline. The down side of his metabolic fervor is an increased need for lots of food and an impatience that makes him more susceptible to parts of the mental game.

Point is, we all wear down differently. There isn't a universal story to homelessness. There isn't a single way it sucks. Some of us are harder to wear, some are harder to tear, but it gets to everyone eventually.

Walking to Andre House

After our presentation on basic needs, some writing, and a few games, we leave for the Andre House to get dinner. Andre House is a serves food and provides other services to the community. We have lost a few people to prior engagements, and are down to six people.



Even though it isn't that hot, my skin is dry. Unfortunately, the shade is lacking on Seventh Avenue.