Lately, I have been struggling with wondering if I am doing enough. Day in and day out for the past 21 months I have dedicated at least 40 hours a week to loving others who are marginalized, poor or experiencing some type of neglect from our world.
Recently, I had a guest come up to me, with a cynical glint in his eye and ask me, "why are you here? Ya know I've been coming here for four years, my buddy's been coming here for eight and my other buddy has been homeless for 11 years. Why are you here, if we are still homeless?"
I didn't know what to say so I said nothing, I just smiled and said, "I am here because I want to show you that someone cares that you're homeless and that someone wants to see you happy." He chuckled a very doubty laugh and walked away. But this encounter got me thinking...
Why do I do all this? Some of my kids may never get to college or even graduate high school; heck, some may be killed or get into drugs. Some of my guests may get abused or relapse or die on the streets. And some may never get housed. Being the logical thinker I am, I know very well that I will not end poverty...even Jesus said, "for you will always have the poor with you; but you do not always have me" (Matthew 26:11)...so with that, what am I doing?
Last year, I gave a speech at our Re-Orientation retreat about loving until it hurts. I quotes Mama T's quote: "If I love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love." I reflected on what that meant for me and my kids. I think that's what rings true beneath the cynicism: Love.
Still, I can't help but go to that dark place sometimes, when a guest relapses, or stands me up for an appointment, or loses the ID we just worked so hard to get for him and what helps me keep going is this thought I had after hearing a quote from the Wizard of Oz (I was babysitting tonight and this is what we watched): At the end of the day, God is not going to measure my heart by how many I have loved or how many I have saved from poverty as a checklist...He is going to feel that and know my impact and my heart's true intent by how many love me. Look at Mama T, she never loved me, she never even knew me but I loved her. I loved the work she did and the gusto she did it with...her character, her worth and her heart is measured by the people who loved her.
So this incomplete rambling of my frazzled brain can only be summed up by the quote that started it all:
"A heart is not judged by how much you love, but by how much you are loved by others" (The Wizard to the Tin Man in the Wizard of Oz)
Saturday, April 21, 2012
Friday, April 13, 2012
I Listen.
I have been on a hiatus for a wee bit but I am back because I have been inspired by the JVC Fundraiser I went to last night for the DC chapter of JVC.
At the fundraiser, the current JVs were asked to say a few words about who we are, where we're from and what we do. My co-worker and I fumbled under the sudden nerves we felt (and sleep deprivation of being up for 14 hours already that day) and didn't do our job justice. In lieu of that mess up, I want to do it justice here.
What do I do? Well the rehearsed answer I wanted to give was "I work at a social service agency that provides two hot meals a day to those experiencing homelessness while encouraging them to participate in our creative writing and art therapy studios. In addition, I do informal case management; so I do everything from getting them toiletries to applying for citizenship or housing.
What do I really do though? I listen.
I listen to the people, who in their 18 hours of awake-ness,every day, don't get to talk to anyone. I listen to those who feel like they have no place to go. I listen to women who have been through sexual or domestic abuse, I listen to people who see things that aren't actually there and I follow them into their delusions. I listen to men who are too proud to admit they need help and men who are too lazy to apply for something themselves. I listen to mothers worry as they fret about where they are going to spend the night with their two children. I listen to men who are drunk, coked out, high as a kite or hung over beyond belief. And I listen to people who have stories to share and ideas to contribute.
I listen.
So what do I do?
Well, let me take you through today: Got up at 8am, caught the Metro to a meeting I had at 10am. Listen to people from prominent social service agencies talk about how to solve Veteran homelessness until 12:30pm. Went to Wendy's with a co-worker (enjoyed a cheeseburger...it's all about life's simple joys). Headed to work by 1pm. Fielded voice mails and e-mails from 1:30pm-2:15pm and then set up for Studio/Afternoon Program. At 2:30pm Studio began. I immediately was flooded with Birth Certificate voucher requests and DC ID requests...many forms to fill out. Then "what I do" happened. I met with two very, very different men.
One, is a man struggling with drug/alcohol dependency and schizophrenia. He sees things I don't and I follow him into his world time and time again. Today, it was about movies. He was telling me that he's in a spaceship and I ask him what color the spaceship is and he says silver because all of them are silver. This man is always quick to smile at me, is a bit of a lose cannon and can be very unpredictable because his delusions make him react to things in violent/angry ways. Today, I talked about spaceships and stars with him for about 30 minutes. Today, I listened.
The other man is living with many, many medical problems and is in denial of the help he needs. He is always a jokester and is always seeking attention from others. My goal with him for the past two months has been to get him to see a doctor that treats the disease he is living with but he always laughs me off or changes the subject when I bring it up. Two days ago he finally went with my co-worker to get his food stamps and Medicaid card (two things we've been trying to get him to do for four months). Riding the coat tails of that, he sought me out today. He made me meet with him in my office and we talked. He talked and cried about his illness and how scared he was and I quietly sat there. He looked at me, with blood shot eyes and said, "Katie, I want to see a doctor; I don't want to die before I turn 31." I immediately contacted a doctor friend of mine and a clinic and we set up an appointment. Today, I discovered he got his food stamps card. Today, I listened.
At the fundraiser, the current JVs were asked to say a few words about who we are, where we're from and what we do. My co-worker and I fumbled under the sudden nerves we felt (and sleep deprivation of being up for 14 hours already that day) and didn't do our job justice. In lieu of that mess up, I want to do it justice here.
What do I do? Well the rehearsed answer I wanted to give was "I work at a social service agency that provides two hot meals a day to those experiencing homelessness while encouraging them to participate in our creative writing and art therapy studios. In addition, I do informal case management; so I do everything from getting them toiletries to applying for citizenship or housing.
What do I really do though? I listen.
I listen to the people, who in their 18 hours of awake-ness,every day, don't get to talk to anyone. I listen to those who feel like they have no place to go. I listen to women who have been through sexual or domestic abuse, I listen to people who see things that aren't actually there and I follow them into their delusions. I listen to men who are too proud to admit they need help and men who are too lazy to apply for something themselves. I listen to mothers worry as they fret about where they are going to spend the night with their two children. I listen to men who are drunk, coked out, high as a kite or hung over beyond belief. And I listen to people who have stories to share and ideas to contribute.
I listen.
So what do I do?
Well, let me take you through today: Got up at 8am, caught the Metro to a meeting I had at 10am. Listen to people from prominent social service agencies talk about how to solve Veteran homelessness until 12:30pm. Went to Wendy's with a co-worker (enjoyed a cheeseburger...it's all about life's simple joys). Headed to work by 1pm. Fielded voice mails and e-mails from 1:30pm-2:15pm and then set up for Studio/Afternoon Program. At 2:30pm Studio began. I immediately was flooded with Birth Certificate voucher requests and DC ID requests...many forms to fill out. Then "what I do" happened. I met with two very, very different men.
One, is a man struggling with drug/alcohol dependency and schizophrenia. He sees things I don't and I follow him into his world time and time again. Today, it was about movies. He was telling me that he's in a spaceship and I ask him what color the spaceship is and he says silver because all of them are silver. This man is always quick to smile at me, is a bit of a lose cannon and can be very unpredictable because his delusions make him react to things in violent/angry ways. Today, I talked about spaceships and stars with him for about 30 minutes. Today, I listened.
The other man is living with many, many medical problems and is in denial of the help he needs. He is always a jokester and is always seeking attention from others. My goal with him for the past two months has been to get him to see a doctor that treats the disease he is living with but he always laughs me off or changes the subject when I bring it up. Two days ago he finally went with my co-worker to get his food stamps and Medicaid card (two things we've been trying to get him to do for four months). Riding the coat tails of that, he sought me out today. He made me meet with him in my office and we talked. He talked and cried about his illness and how scared he was and I quietly sat there. He looked at me, with blood shot eyes and said, "Katie, I want to see a doctor; I don't want to die before I turn 31." I immediately contacted a doctor friend of mine and a clinic and we set up an appointment. Today, I discovered he got his food stamps card. Today, I listened.
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