To be great in the future, we must act great today.

Ten years ago, no one could predict that two jet liners would be purposefully flown into the World Trade Center and change the lives of people around the world. In its aftermath, no one could predict Canadians would need a passport to cross the longest undefended border in the world. Ten years ago, we could not predict that oil would rise above $50 dollars a barrel, let alone 60. Ten years ago, we could not predict Calgary’s economic boom would result in such a dramatic rise in homelessness.

Ten years ago, the Drop-In operated out of an old building and managed a transitional housing centre at Centre 110 and a satellite shelter. We had been offering counseling services for 2 years and the Labour Office (casual and permanent job placement) had been operating for 6 years. Ten years ago, we had also shifted from an 18 hour day to 24 hours per day, 7 days a week service model.

Ten years have made a remarkable difference in what we do and how we do it. However, no matter how well we plan or how well-intentioned our planning is, changing times dictate changing paths. Ten years ago we couldn’t predict that our new facility, sometimes called the Hobo Hilton by outsiders, designed to house 500 individuals, would have to expand to accommodate over 1100 a night. Ten years ago, we would not have seen the need for an in-house nurse, career training initiatives, and computer labs. But, the changing face of homelessness has dictated that we focus on identifying pathways out of homelessness, not just sleeping and feeding those without a place to live.

Ten years ago, we could not predict the future. We could, however, predict that whatever we did, our focus would be on sheltering the less fortunate members of our society with dignity and respect. We could predict that whatever service or program we provided, our focus would be on our clients, their needs, their challenges, and on reconnecting them with their hopes and dreams and possibilities for a better future.

Today, we still cannot predict the future. We can, however, predict that in the future some faces will disappear from the homeless landscape in our city and new ones will appear. Not because they want to be homeless. No one wants to be homeless. They will appear because no matter how hard we fight to bring an end to homelessness, or change the length of time someone is homeless, until we stop the systemic causes, we will not stem the flow. The factors that contribute to homelessness today, will be there tomorrow if they are not dealt with appropriately.

The causes leading up to someone losing their home are complex and varied. Homelessness can be triggered by bad decision-making, poor life skills, a history of poverty, women fleeing violence, mental disorders, addictions or an inability to cope with life’s ups and downs. It can be caused by a breakdown in families, a lack of discharge planning from mental institutions, hospitals and prisons. It can be the result of government planning, or lack of government planning. It can be a wrong turn, the loss of a job, or the loss of a loved one.

Last Monday, I attended the Community Summit on Calgary’s 10 Year Plan to End Homelessness. The people at the table where I was seated ranged from business executives, to social services providers. The man next to me was involved in an addictions recovery centre. At one point during the presentations, he turned to me and said, “Well, guess you’re out of a job in a few years time.”

“Wouldn’t that be lovely,” I replied. “It would mean we’d achieved our goal. Do you believe it’s possible?” I asked.

“Absolutely,” he said, his head nodding affirmatively to emphasize his support of the 10 Year Plan.

“Great,” I replied. “That means if we can end homelessness in 10 years, we can set the same goal for addictions.”

He sat back in his chair, his eyes registering shocked disbelief. “Absolutely won’t happen,”

“Why not?” I asked.

“Because,” and he paused as he searched for an appropriate answer. “They’re completely different. Addictions have been around for centuries. They’re even mentioned in the Bible.”

“Does their longevity make them right?”

“It’s not about right or wrong,” he said. “It’s part of the human make-up. Addictions are much more complex than homelessness. The issues are life long.”

“But aren’t many of the contributing factors the same?” I asked.

“Yes,” he slowly responded. “But you’ll never end addictions.”

Too bad. I like the idea that something that affects over 35% of homeless individuals could be ended. I like the idea that something that places enormous stress on resources, productivity and our health care system can be stopped. In January 2007, the Canadian Centre on Substance Abuse reported that abuse of alcohol, tobacco and illicit drugs cost Albertans $4.4 billion in 2002. In Calgary, that translates to approximately $260 per capita. Homelessness costs approximately $40 per capita.

In the Welcome from the Chairman comments of the program for the Summit, Steven Snyder, Chairman, Calgary Committee to End Homelessness wrote, There is incredible enthusiasm, momentum and determination in our city to solve this issue once and for all.”

I’m glad. I’d like to see homelessness end for everyone.

Homelessness, however, is not ‘an issue’ that can be solved like the implementation of a corporate downsizing to stem the bleeding on the bottom line. Homelessness is a societal distress signal. The smoke is rising and we are being engulfed in the fog of believing homelessness is the cause of our distress.

Our distress is based on how confident we feel in the predictability of our future. Whether or not there are visible homeless begging for change on our city streets, if addictions continue to rise, if family violence continues to force women and children to flee their homes, or condominium conversions and redevelopment force low income earners to leave the security of their homes, our society will continue to be at risk and our future less rosey.

Focusing on homelessness as a singular issue that needs to be taken care of, once and for all, allows us to escape addressing the bigger issues we need to address to ensure we live in an inclusive society that welcomes diversity and celebrates individuality, regardless of economic position, cultural practice or creed.

When we attempt to manage homelessness as if we have the answers that will stop those experiencing it from feeling marginalized and under-valued, we contribute to the mindset that states, homelessness is wrong. If it’s wrong, than those experiencing it are in the wrong and we are labeling them criminals in their time of need. In our collusion, we are letting ourselves off the hook of investigating what each of us has done, is doing, or isn’t doing to contribute towards a society in which we all have value and share in values that create harmony, not discord. When we focus on homelessness as the issue we take our sights off what we can do to create a better future for everyone, in spite of our pasts.

I can’t predict the future, but I can predict that if we direct our energies to ending homelessness without addressing the deeper societal issues that have driven its rise, we lose the opportunity to create a community worthy of everyone who calls our city home. We lose the opportunity to be great.

Stretched to the Max

Early Sunday morning, April 1st, the temporary shelter known as, The Brick, was closed. The weather was nasty. Snow fell throughout the day, the temperature never ventured above -8C and, with a push from the wind chill factor, plummeted to -16 that night. The City said their hands were tied; Provincial Legislation prohibited them from implementing Disaster Services unless the temperature was –15 or below, and the windchill factor was not part of the equation. (It has since been determined that this is not a Provincial cap but a municipal one.)

The Drop-In was at over-capacity but turning someone away meant leaving them exposed to the brutal elements outside. We kept our doors open. By Monday morning, April 2nd, in response to the public outcry, City emergency services scrambled to find a place for the homeless who didn’t make it to the Drop-In’s doors and had been left out in the cold. Frantic calls throughout the day finally resulted in EMS announcing they would set-up emergency cots at their building in Whitehorn.

At the Drop-In we heard about the Whitehorn shelter on the 6 o’clock news and promptly contacted EMS and the other agencies involved to arrange for transport of clients. By 8 pm, 371 people stood and waited in our first floor lobby for the bus to arrive, to no avail. It never appeared.

Many calls later, the sad but undeniable truth was announced to the people standing in the lobby. Any individual wanting to go to the Whitehorn shelter would have to walk the fifteen blocks from the Drop-In to the Seed. At –19, this was a hardship most could not survive.

The photos depict the scene in our lobby at 8pm. Pictures, however, cannot show the desperation our clients and staff felt that night. The lobby is approximately 2500 sq. ft. – the size of an average home in Calgary that houses 4 people. The lobby has no mats, no cots, no washroom facility except in the Intox area, which was already over capacity. We had no choice but to let as many people as possible stay inside and camp out on the concrete floor of the lobby.

There was nothing dignified about the arrangements that night. Other than blankets, the individuals who could not get to the buses, or could not find somewhere else to sleep lay on the cold concrete and did what homeless people have to do everyday, make do with what they’ve got and be thankful they were not left out in the cold.

Homeless And Now Gone, But Not Forgotten

Yes we have all seen them, the drunken bums on the street corner, begging for a dime for a cup of coffee. Sometimes we even put some money in their cap or cup, but we walk away knowing that we are just contributing to their next six pack; or their next hit from crack cocaine. But how about the other 90% of the homeless? The people you pass in the street every day, the people that look just like you or me? Everyone of them has a unique story, and there are many different reasons that someone ends up on the streets.

Sometimes the most unlikely people find themselves in this situation. And sometimes really bad things happen. That fact came knocking on my door last week. Let me explain.

Diana Peterson died, and to the best of my knowledge she never stayed at the Calgary Drop-in, to the best of my knowledge she never even visited Canada. She lived a slightly wild life, but she loved her family, and would do almost anything for them. Hurricane Katrina ripped away what few possessions Diana had. Much has been written about FEMA, and how they failed. They did not fail for Diana. They relocated her, put her in a large apartment, paid the rent, and even furnished the place!

FEMA also helped Diana find a job. OK, it wasn’t a great job, but it was enough to get her back up on her feet. Most people would have loved this second chance. Actually for Diana this was her best chance ever. She had spent years chasing rainbows that had always ended in disaster. This was her one great opportunity to break out from a bad situation. This was the chance of a lifetime.

Diana loved her kids, and when her son Roger seemed to be in trouble in Washington state, Diana did what every mother would do, she went to him.

She had no money other than enough to buy the bus ticket, but being the caring mother, she had to find her son. On arrival in Olympia, Washington, Diana became part of the homeless system. No money, no place to live, she had no options; ‘the street’ was the only place to go.

Diana died last Sunday; she died from complications with pneumonia. She died alone, no friends, no family, with no one around her that cared, but the doctors and nurses. Her family had no idea that she was sick, they had no way to find her, they tried sending emails to the organization that they thought was helping her, but they received no replies. She died lonely. Diana was not a bad person, Diana was someone you would have walked by on the street and not have tagged as homeless. She was just like you and me.

Unfortunately Diana did not share any information with her family, no one knew where she was, or the dire situation she was in. Diana had a great support system, the family was there for her, but she opted to not use it. The world has lost a good person.

Homelessness is something that can happen to anyone.

Oh, I guess I should explain the reason for this article, Diana was my sister-in-law.


Simon Barrett

I am angry

Today, a TV reporter phoned wanting to do a story on homeless individuals who have been affected by the cold. Well, the trite answer is, every homeless person is affected by the cold. The reality is, some are affected more than others.

For those living in transitional housing such as the clients on the 4th and 5th floors of the Drop-In and at Centre 110, they know where they'll be sleeping every night. They don't have to line up. They don't have to spend the day worrying about whether or not they'll find a place to sleep that night. They have an assigned bed. A place just for them.

Transitional housing accounts for approximately one-third of our shelter space. For the other two-thirds, worry as to where they'll sleep each night takes up an enormous part of their day, especially when it's cold.

I agree with the reporter. Putting a human face on the physical cost of homelessness is important. I just wasn't prepared for the reality of what I found when I asked the staff for help in identifying individuals who would be willing to talk on camera about their experience of being homeless and cold.

The reality is chilling.

Collin (I have used pseudonyms for everyone) lost both feet December 31st due to complications of frostbite. Happy New Year.

Darius lost the toes on one foot and two fingers.

Micheal lost fingers on both hands.

Tina had frostbite but it's believed she will not lose any digits or limbs. We hope.

Jarred too is expected to recover without loss of limb. For the time being, he's whole. At least until the next time he's forced to sleep outside due to over-capacity at the Drop-In and other shelters.

Kurt was not so lucky. He lost the toes on both his feet.

And we argue about who is responsible for homelessness and how are we going to end it in ten years.

For these individuals, homelessness, with or without the loss of limb, has not ended. They don't have the luxury of sitting around a board room table weighing the cost of homelessness against the benefits of affordable housing that will be built in future years. They're hanging out at the Drop-In, trying to fit the pieces of their lives back together. Trying to incorporate this new state of being into their current reality as they struggle to rid themselves of the label they had, Homeless, and the new one they've just acquired, Disabled. They're struggling to figure out how they'll work again. How will they find a home. Be independent. Dream. Get away from the drudgery of spending each day struggling to make sense of the non-sensical. Where did their limbs go? Where did their future go? Where did their freedom to make choices go? What happened to their lives?

No one can give these people back what they've lost. Time will never heal the psychological wounds inflicted upon them. Time will not heal lost limbs.

Sure, they'll move on. Possibly. Perhaps. Maybe.

They'll need help. Definitely.

But who will give it?

At the Drop-In, we do not have the capacity nor the facility to treat the wounds buried deep beneath the skin. We have a nurse on staff. He was hired last fall when management realized that despite lobbying, no funds could be found in the health region to support an in-house nurse. Our staff nurse can treat the visible wounds. Provide triage and bandaids and clean wounds and give support. But he cannot treat the wounds buried deep beneath the skin. He can clean a stump, but he cannot clean out the mental refuse that clogs the thinking and feeling of someone who has suffered the indignity and sorrow of being homeless and then lost a limb in the process.

I am angry.

Committees are struck. Temperature initiated housing policies are set in place to determine when the City will respond to the homeless crisis.

What does the weather have to do with being homeless? The weather didn't cause homelessness. And it definitely will not cure it.

And yet, we sit back and watch the mercury falling with the fervent passion of an astronomer gazing at the stars waiting for the next big bang in space.

Collin doesn't care what is written in the stars. He can barely look up from the desperation of his new reality. His life is now determined by the confines of a wheelchair. Every day he pushes his way across the second floor of the Drop-In searching for answers, feeling the pain in his missing feet. Every day he struggles to understand the nonsensical past where there is no sense to what has happened to him, other than that someone, somewhere, was unwilling to open a door that might have kept him out of the cold long enough to get off his feet so he wouldn't lose them.

I am angry.

Everyday hope is crushed beneath bureaucratic insistence that homelessness is some other agency's responsibility. Some other government bodies domain. Everyday fingers and toes and lives are buried beneath the weight and cruelty of homelessness and all we can do is talk about affordable housing, in the future.

People are being hurt. Today. Right now.

Our mayor is in Mexico, and while I'm sure it's a well-deserved break from his duties, for the thousands of people who have no place to call home in our city, there is no break from the cold and no break from the crushing hopelessness of homelessness. Their lives are at risk. Today. Right now.

When do we stop being part of the problem and become active participants in creating solutions that work today?

When do we start treating homelessness as something that happens to people rather than something that happens to 3,436 statistics duly noted on the register of the Homeless Count?

When do we make a difference to people whose lives have led them to believe they don't make a difference to anyone, including themselves?

WARNING -- Lives in Progress

Photo: Mike Sturk

The other day one of my students was telling me about a notice posted near the Bow River in Calgary (the Drop-In Centre where I work is next to the river). Today, he brought a copy of this notice in for us to see:

WARNING

So long as the CALGARY DROP-IN CENTRE is allowed to harbor drug addicts and chronic criminals it will be EXTREMELY DANGEROUS TO TRAVEL THE RIVERSIDE BIKE PATHS between CENTRE STREET and the ZOO.

These are not "homeless" - they get welfare cheques in Saskatoon, Vancouver and (even) Calgary! They are TRANSIENTS BY CHOICE, and PREDATORS BY NATURE.

- a message from a concerned East Villager who knows.

This message is extremely sad to me. For those of you who don't know, Calgary is a BOOMING city. With the increase of wealth, the divide between the wealthy and poor has grown exponentially. Low-income housing is non-existent and rental properties are scarce. The Drop-In Centre is a place of HOPE in the city. I feel very thankful that so many of the clients I work with every day see value in the services it provides. The average client stays at the Drop-In Centre for 6 months. They are thankful for warm meals, hot showers, clean clothes, and a place to sleep for however long they need it.

Contrary to popular belief, those who access the services at the Drop-In are not all drug addicts, criminals, unemployed or predators. Yes, there are some who have made choices that have brought them there. Yes, some have mental illnesses and some are addicted to drugs, alcohol or gambling. But in my experience with the people I work with daily, that is not the "norm," nor is it even the majority.I see people who are an inspiration. They have a desire to LIVE, to survive and overcome the obstacles in their path.

I see people who have a wealth of knowledge and experience and who have a lot to teach me ... they have a lot to teach US! Every life that I have encountered has changed my own.

To the writer of the above poster and to those who share his opinion, I want to invite you to spend a few days at the Drop-In Centre with us, to talk with the people who live here and to experience their stories and to be impacted by their lives. I want you to experience the beauty that I see every day in learning from those around me, especially those who have a different experience than my own.

Katie S. is an instructor in the Career Training Initiative at the Calgary Drop-In.

Homlessness is pepetuated by hopelessness

After five years of working at the Drop-In, three of which were on the "Intox" floor, I believe that homelessness is closely related to, and perpetuated by, hopelessness. Every day at work I wake up guys at 3, 4, and 5 a.m., who go off to work for $10 per hour. I'm just guessing, but what I think goes through the heads of many of our clients is something like this: "OK, today is payday. So do I sock away my entire $400 cheque today and for the next three or four paydays so that I can have first month's rent and damage deposit for my own place, or should I buy smokes and a couple of cases of beer to drink with my friends tonight? And maybe I'll get a hotel room for a couple of nights, so I won't have to put up with snoring, with stinky feet on both sides of me, and the possibility that staff won't notice when someone tries to steal something out of my backpack during the night."

In Calgary the boomtown, where rents under $800 per month are few and far between, this is a powerful rationalization for the kind of wheel-spinning, self-destructive behaviour I see in so many of our clients. I'd like to ask anyone complaining about panhandlers, stupid drunks and crackheads, and lazy street people, if they have ever made a phone call to their MLA or alderman calling for affordable housing and a higher minimum wage; have they ever demanded more money or land be allocated to treatment centres in Alberta?

In the face of unreasonable prices, people despair. They turn to the escape to be had in drugs, alcohol, and gambling - and the revenues of the latter end up mostly in provincial coffers, I'm ashamed to know. The social costs of these addictive behaviours are enormous. We see the loss of invaluable talents, skills, dreams, and ideas, as men and women drift from one temp job to another, unable to imagine the possibility of meaningful work. If we are ever to reduce homelessness, then hope needs to be brought a little closer to earth, rather than seeming like pipe dreams up in the sky, for the down-and-out on our streets.

Roger G.

Roger G. is a night supervisor at the Drop-In. This article originally appeared as a letter in FFWD magazine a couple of years ago.

Do It Now

On March 31, 287+ individuals will go to sleep in the safe, warm environment of a temporary emergency shelter. While it’s not a place to call home, it does provide a mat, blankets, washroom facilities, food and a place to come in out of the cold. In the morning, after they awaken, they will be transported back downtown and spend the day as they have for the past three months since the shelter was opened in December. Some will go to work. Some will take courses at the Mustard Seed or Bow Valley College. Some will come to the second floor of the Drop-In and while away the hours, playing cards, watching TV, volunteering, talking to friends and staff, sharing a meal. Some will spend the day in the library, or wandering the streets looking for somewhere to go.

That evening, when normally they would be checking in to be transported up to the shelter, they will have no where to go. No where to sleep. No where to get in from the elements. No where they can legally rest their heads.

On April 1, 2007, the temporary shelter in the old Brick building on 16th Ave. N.W. will be closed. A page in the City’s plan to temporarily house the approximately 300 adult men and women for whom there were no emergency beds will be closed and with that closure, the lives of 287+ people will be in flux, once again.

As a means to avoid a crisis in the event of winter weather, Council has committed to opening temporary emergency shelter space, should the temperature fall below –15 degrees Celsius. Council has also given administration the green light to find a suitable facility (and begin securing the necessary land use approvals) to establish a temporary emergency shelter for the winter of 2007/2008.[1] Given that the homeless count for 2006 was 32% higher than 2004, it is a prudent step on the part of Council and City administration. At the rate of growth in Calgary’s homeless population, were the count to be taken on May 10, 2007, the homeless population in our City will have increased by 16% or approximately 1,040 people over last year.

Unfortunately, regardless of the temperature, a proposed temporary emergency shelter for any period of time is of little consequence to the 287+ men and women who will be left without shelter on April 1. For them, the pressure of finding safe, secure and legal sleeping accommodation is a life or death issue. However, in a city with an almost zero vacancy rate, where the average monthly rent is significantly above the poverty line under which the majority of homeless individuals exist, finding a safe, legal place to sleep is almost impossible.

They can’t sleep under bridges or on park benches. We’ve got a bylaw to ensure they don’t.

They can’t sleep at any of the existing shelters. The reason the temporary emergency shelter was opened was because of the over-capacity in the existing shelters. The Drop-In currently sleeps 1100 individuals per night, and has been at or near capacity for the past year.

They can’t go home. They don’t have a home.

They can’t change their circumstances overnight. The factors that drove them onto the street are still the factors that keep them homeless. No affordable housing. A dearth of facilities and treatment programs for addictions. Limited resources to help with those who, due to mental diseases cannot live without assistance. Divorce and break-ups. Family violence. Sexual assault. Poor decisions. Limited life skills and/or education. Etc.

Where do they go?

It is inconceivable that a City as prosperous and socially conscious as Calgary can turn a blind eye to the plight of these individuals. And yet, we do. Except of course, unless the temperature drops below the magic –15 degrees Celsius.

There is nothing magic about a night on the streets, whatever the temperature. And yet, we do nothing.

On April 1, 287+ men and women will have no where to sleep, and we expect them to be law abiding citizens. We expect them to not pitch a tent on the river bank, to not sleep in vacant garages or huddle in doorways or lay on park benches. We expect them to be compliant and to not break the laws we've imposed to create a civil society while we act without civility towards them.

We’re pretty clear on what they can’t do. Isn’t it time we got clear on what we can do? Rather than continually stating, homelessness is not a municipal problem, it’s the responsibility of the Province, isn’t it time we said, “Homelessness is our problem. Homelessness is wrong. When one person sleeps out in the cold, the quality of life for every Calgarian is affected.”

Talking about the number of affordable housing units we’re building, soon, or what we plan on doing in ten years will not impact the plight of the 287+ individuals with no place to sleep on April 1. These individuals have no where to go and they’re not just magically going to be absorbed into non-existent housing in Calgary because the problems they face in trying to secure suitable and affordable housing are not going away either.

It’s time to demand Council and the Provincial government turn up and pay attention to the problems our citizens face today so that we can all sleep safely and soundly in our beds on April 1, 2007. If you have not called your Alderman or MLA to ensure they are actively seeking a viable solution that will ensure these individuals have no other choice than to roam the streets, Do It Now. Time is of the essence. Be loud. Be vocal and give voice to the dire circumstances of the 287+ individuals and the 3,436 who were counted as homeless on May 10, 2006. They need our help.


[1] Amy Alexander, Issue Strategist/Homelessness Coordinator, The City of Calgary

Calman -- A short story by Dave C.

Hey Birtle, you are supposed to write a character sketch; write about me. I know I died last month, washed up on the banks of the Red River, but I live on. You still think about me, that says something. People who did not know me are probably thinking that I, along with the taxpayers, am better off. A wasted life; another homeless bum who met his end.

I never had the things that most people value. My parents died when I was young. A boarding school became my home. There I learned fear and shame. Without the skills or the confidence necessary to maintain a stable lifestyle, I remained on the fringes of society, taking odd jobs as a farm laborer, construction worker and janitor. It felt good to work but I was too shy to make friends. On Friday nights, we would go to the bar but it always felt like everyone was watching me. I would get drunk to shield myself from the scrutiny of others and after a while, my fears became a reality; I was not welcome.

My health was never good. Heart problems limited the physical labor that I could take on. With no friends and no family, I drank to pass the time and dream of the life I never had. I did not envy the cars, houses and fancy clothes; I envied the hugs, smiles and acceptance that I had witnessed but never experienced. No matter where I went or what I did, I felt I did not belong.

Disability income does not pay very much. The eviction notice came and I walked out to face my greatest fear. I no longer had any place to hide.

With less than a dollar in my pocket, the clothes on my back, and the items I could stuff into a small duffle bag, I set off for skid row. No matter how bad things were, I never imagined I would sink this low. They are the lazy bums; I am just unable to work. I tried, I honestly tried, but nothing ever fit.

I called you Birtle because you once lived in the town where I was born. By the time we met, I had lived on the streets for five years and you were the rookie at the shelter. In those five years, I had not amassed any possessions but I had gained a life.

I remember the day I entered the shelter, everyone stared but it was different. I sensed curiosity rather than scrutiny, warmth rather than hostility. Someone offered me a cigarette. Later I realized it was his last one. They wanted to know my name and they did not care where I came from or what I had done. We played cards and we laughed (I actually laughed). They told me where to get food, where to get clothing and which workers I could trust. While they never actually said it, they told me that I belonged. In losing an apartment, I had gained a home.

The people I met were not the sub-human derelicts which society depicts; we were simply people. We were scared, we were beaten but, in many ways, we were more human than the so-called regular, respectable public. There were no airs, no hypocrisy; an overwhelming sense of honesty prevailed. While we were the poorest of the poor, we gave and shared unconditionally. For the first time in my life, I knew acceptance and love.

All my life I searched desperately for something and when I gave up the search, I found it. Society teaches us to use external yardsticks to measure our lives but I have learned that these yardsticks are meaningless. When we look for love, we fail to see it; when we measure life, we waste it.

It does not matter what society thinks. My community has existed in every culture since the beginning of recorded time. Politicians and economists derive models and programs to fix us; the general population seeks to ignore us. We have always been here and we will always be here. I am dead now but my life was not a waste. I have laughed and I have cried. I have loved and I have received love. My name was Calman and I live on in the hearts of many. I live on in your heart Birtle because you looked into my eyes rather than at my clothes.

Dave C is a Supervisor at the Calgary Drop-In & Rehab Centre. Prior to joining the Drop-In he worked in the homeless sector in Winnipeg where this story is set. No matter where he is, as this story demonstrates, Dave is a gifted writer and a compassionate human being.

Snow falling. Hope passing.

Only in Calgary can you enjoy all four seasons in one day. Yesterday morning spring arrived with refreshing rain and its promise of the earth’s rebirth. By noon, summer’s heat bore down as people stripped off protective layers of clothing to expose pale skin eager for the sun’s rays. Fall’s chill descended by early evening. The sun disappeared behind sullen grey clouds and by nightfall, sleet had turned to snow. It’s been snowing ever since. The wet, heavy kind that’s awful for driving but perfect for creating snowmen and other wonders of winter.

If you’re homeless, winter is not a wonder. Driving is seldom an issue and seeing the snow as an opportunity to take part in a recreational sport is not on the list of “Ten things I must do to survive the winter”.

When you’re homeless, the snow is an enemy. It soaks through clothing and shoes, results in frostbite and the possibility of lost digits. Snow and cold lead to aches and chilblains and the relentless search for a warm, safe place to hang out in. Snow brings colds and under grey skies, good humour evaporates as desperation and depression descend with the snow clogging the roadways.

The snow is not welcome when you’re homeless.

But then, the homeless are not welcome in most areas of the city.

Mostly, the homeless are considered a problem. A crisis. A situation that must be dealt with. Like the pristine snow blanketing the city, we search for ways to sweep the homeless out of view. With each new carefully drafted chapter of “Ten things we must do to end homelessness” we hope that out of sight will lead to out of mind and the problem of the homeless will be solved, or at least disappear.

Outside, the snow falls and soon it will disappear. It’s inevitable.

Getting off the street, finding a home, rebuilding lives; that’s not inevitable, at least not for some.

There is no shovel big enough to end homelessness

The homeless are not something we can shovel out of the way, nor sweep away. They are not a statistic or a number that quantifies their presence but says nothing of the individuals populating the carefully constructed graphs depicting the growth in homelessness in Calgary. i.e. May 10, 2006 Homeless Count: 3436 representing a 32% increase since the count of 2004.

The homeless are people. Individuals. Mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, aunts, uncles, cousins and nieces. The homeless have names. They have stories. They have a past and while the future may not look too bright for some, they all share in the dream that somewhere there is an answer to their homelessness. Someday they will find a way to change their lives.

Some lives end before change happens

Every day at the Drop-In we work with mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, aunts, uncles, cousins and nieces. We work with people who have lost their way. Some are trying to forget their pasts, some can’t forget it. Some believe there’s a better tomorrow waiting for them, someday. Some believe it’s impossible.

Every day at the Drop-In we participate in changing lives. We witness lives moving out of despair into hope. And we experience failure.

Two men were murdered Saturday night and with their passing all hope that their lives could change died. They will never have the possibility of a better tomorrow.

One of the men was an inspired artist. He was talented. Gifted. He had intermittently been a client of the Drop-In several years ago. Mostly during those times when alcohol overtook his ability to weather the storms of life and he looked for refuge in a bottle. When he stayed with us, he would draw. On scraps of paper. On paper towel. On anything staff gave him. Beautiful black and white sketches honouring his heritage. He didn’t talk a lot, but through his art, you could catch a glimpse of the awesome soul within. Complex. Intricate. Beautiful. Wounded.

Hope is a long and winding road

Today, the snow falls and the artist is gone. His talent. His many gifts have passed with him.

Any hope he had of finding his way out of the darkness is gone with him. Any hope his family had of their son coming home is gone.

While we sit and write reports, check our numbers and carefully graph our formulae of where and what to do with the men, women, mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, aunts, uncles, nieces and nephews who populate our streets, hope dies. Every day.

For those experiencing homelessness, the road is winding, the future grim. At the Drop-In we accept those who come through our doors exactly where they’re at. We provide them a safe, stable environment. We do not tolerate drugs or drug dealers. We do not condone violence and weapons. Our clients cannot be safe when they fear for their lives.

We believe that in helping people stay alive, in providing them the essential services needed to not succumb to the indignities of being homeless, they will have a chance to find the spark that will ignite their imaginations so that they can begin their journey home. In time, they will find the courage to take those first steps into a life that is a reflection of who they are meant to be, not who they’ve been labeled since losing their way.

No matter the weather, our doors remain open

In this city of over a million people, one man’s death will not remain in the headlines long. Like the snow quickly disappearing under the sun’s rays, his memory will blend into the past as he becomes a statistic in the homicide record of the city.

Yet, there is still hope for those who walk the streets in search of a better day, as long as we remain constant in our belief that what we do makes a difference. We believe that providing support to those who have lost their way on the road of life will affect how they get up tomorrow. As each person picks up the dream of beginning the long walk home, we believe they will be strengthened by the knowledge that no matter the season, no matter the weather, when they needed a place to rest, the Drop-In’s doors were open.

You can make a difference

It was a busy day at lunch on Friday. We didn't have enough volunteers to serve clients at their tables which meant everyone had to line up to receive their meal and juice. Our preference is to serve people at their table -- it's an opportunity to be of service and, for homeless individuals who are often forced to line-up for almost everthing, it's an opportunity to feel 'normal', to be treated with dignity and to feel like they 'count' as individuals. While clients can't choose what they want for lunch or dinner and it's not necessarily restaurant fare, the food is wholesome and the smile served up with each plate makes a world of difference to the person being served.

Bring your group in to volunteer

Volunteering is a great opportunity for organizations and groups to work together towards making a difference.

Get your team together to volunteer one day a month, (or more!) at the Drop-In. (You can even sponsor a meal with our Buy, Cook, Serve program -- call Larissa at 263-5707 to find out more.) Groups can be as large as 28 or as small as 5. Your group arrives at 11:45 am, (5:45 pm for dinner) dons aprons, gloves and hairnets and get to work behind the counter preparing the plates with food, or on the service side carrying plates to clients. 12:30 to 12:45 lunch is over. You leave with the appreciative applause of the individuals you served ringing in your ears and the knowledge you've made a difference lifting your spirits as you carry on with your day. Helping serve lunch or dinner is a great opportunity to give back to the community. You help us serve our clients with dignity and respect and touch the hearts and minds of everyone at the Drop-In.

For groups coming in for the first time or people who have never visited the Drop-In, we can also arrange a tour. Each tour takes about 45 minutes to an hour and provides an overview of our services and programs, as well as insight into homelessness, its causes, effects and challenges. The feedback after a tour ranges from, "Wow! I didn't realize the Drop-In did so much more than just sleep and feed the homeless." to "I didn't know you had so many employment related programs or that you had such a high level of transitional services to assist people towards getting back on their feet." to "This is amazing. I had no idea."

Serving those who need a helping hand

The United nations describes poverty as "the denial of opportunities and choices most basic to human development -- to lead a long, healthy, creative life and to enjoy a decent standard of living,freedom, dignity, self-esteem, and the respect of others." In a city as rich and vibrant and booming as Calgary, there are those who cannot afford a roof over their heads. There are those who cannot get by without a little help from their friends.

The Calgary Drop-In & Rehab Centre is part of the social fabric of our city. We provide homeless individuals, the working poor and those living in poverty the necessary supports to be safe, to catch their breath and to regain some stability in their lives. We provide them a supportive environment in which they can figure out 'What next?' And, we provide guidance and tools that help them take the steps they've identified that will make a difference in their lives.

In a perfect world, no one would ever need our services. Everyone would have a place to call home.

In today's reality, we sleep 1100 people a night and serve 3500 meals and snacks a day.

In a perfect world, everyone would have the ability and the skills to live creative productive lives.

In reality, some people need more help than others. Approximately 35% of our clients have an addiction -- sometimes, it's the addiciton that drove them to the street. Sometimes, the addiction was acquired as a means of coping with the numbing stress of being homeless. Approximately 35% of our clients have a mental disorder. They may have tried living on their own, but didn't thrive. Their mental disorder inhibits their ability to live without support of some kind.

With a little help from our friends

Volunteers and donors make a difference every day at the Drop-In. Volunteers and donors extend our services and provide the essential monetary, practical and physical resources we need to help our clients find their hope, their belief in themselves and their way out of homelessness so that they can live, "long, healthy, creative lives". From a toothbrush to the smallest financial contribution -- every little bit counts.

You can make a difference.

Give us a call (263-5707). We appreciate your help.

Creating Community

I have been working at the Calgary Drop In for over two years now. Through this time I have connected with so many folks who come from a varied life journey. Each individual has a story to share and they seek a place to find community and feel safe from the streets.

There are people that work full time, yet do not make enough income to be able to afford their own place to live so they stay at the Drop In. With the rise in rental properties in Calgary, it is difficult for someone to afford the cost of renting and having the luxury of their own space. The minimum wage is just not enough to support someone to live on their own.

The Drop In offers many wonderful workshops to help them learn the skills to work towards independence. Our labour office helps people gain skills in a variety of jobs that require different skills. We also offer programs to help people improve their employable skills so that they can gain better jobs.

There are women and men who are battling addictions, while working on a program to stay sober. They come to the Drop In to access our support services to assist them on their recovery journey. It is often a challenge to stay sober when you do not feel you have enough supports in place to help you. It takes a strong person to walk away, and stand tall to say "enough". "I want more from life". When they choose to come to the Drop In, and reach out for help, they are taking a major step forward in making changes in their lives. There are many wonderful staff members at the Drop In who work with people wanting to make changes, and sometimes this involves "tough love". But for those who are really making the effort to make positive changes, they know that there are others who are part of the Drop In community who will help walk the journey with them and share community resources to help them recover.

There are seniors who stay with us rather than being alone. They find comfort in our seniors program with outings, sharing a game of cards, and being part of a community here. We have a building for our seniors so that those who are able to live on their own can have their own space. There are many wonderful folks living at Bridgeland apartments who gather for potlucks and share in celebrations. There are many seniors who return to the Drop In to volunteer their time in our clothing room, or help in our laundry services.

There are young adults, who have challenges with their families and can't live at home. They come to the Drop In and network with others to learn of educational programs and participate in our life skills workshops. They work in our computer labs to gain computer skills or participate in our Wood Shop to learn woodworking skills to help them find a job.

For every individual that travels through our doors and stays the night, you can bet there is a story with them. It is important to take the time to sit and listen. To give them a voice so that they can feel part of our community and not alone. Everyone needs to feel connected and at the Drop In people can network and find a place in our community.

Homeless not Jobless

In a recent survey of our client base, we asked the question, What is your employment status? The results:

• 40.2% of the respondents answered they work more than 32 hours a week.


• 16.8% work at a scheduled part time job of 10 to 32 hours per week.


• 32.7% work casual day labour.

Our clients may be homeless, but they’re not jobless.

Who, then, are the clients of the Calgary Drop-In & Rehab Centre?

Statistically, 90% of our clients are male. The majority are 36 to 45 years of age (58%) and 21% are 26 to 35 years old.

But that’s statistically.

Emotionally, physically, 100% of our clients are individuals who never had a dream of being homeless but who find themselves in that predicament today. Sometimes because of bad choices. Sometimes because of an addiction or poor mental health. Sometimes because of poor life-skills learned in abusive or neglectful homes. Sometimes because of pure bad luck.

Regardless of what drove them to the street, the majority of our clients are not homeless because they don’t have a job or don’t want to work.

They’re homeless because our society has continued to grow and prosper while they have fallen behind the curve of our economic prosperity.

They’re homeless because the cost of housing and availability of affordable housing in Calgary are diametrically opposed.

In another survey question, we asked: How much do feel you can afford to pay in rent?

51.4% answered $400 to $800.

Rental units in Calgary within that cost bracket are few and far between, and as soon as a landlord hears the phrase, “I currently live at the Drop-In Centre” from a potential tenant, discrimination sets in and the once open door is closed.

The faces of the homeless are as individual as the issues that drive them to the street. Regardless of why a person arrived at the Drop-In, however, the fact is, homeless does not equal jobless.

As the city grows taller...

This morning, warm and snug in my car, I looked out at the snowy landscape as I waited for a red light to change to green. On the other side of the street, construction crews and equipment busily transformed a once empty lot into a sparkling new high-rise apartment condo. A billboard promised to deliver an exceptional quality of life to investors smart enough to arrive at that prestigious address.

In the crosswalk, a man shambled slowly across the street from the other side of the road. I couldn't see his face. He was huddled into the protective shield of a blue and brown blanket which he tightly clutched with one dirt caked hand at his neck. He walked in front of my car towards the sidewalk, each faltering step leading him out of the line of traffic towards the safety of the curb. As he reached it, he stumbled against the concrete lip separating him from the safety of the sidewalk.

The light turned green. The man stared down at the ground measuring his next step.

In the curbside lane, a well dressed man in a sleek, dark blue car grew impatient. He honked his horn and motioned expressively at the blanket enshrouded figure to get out of his way. The man paid no attention. Slowly, methodically, he lifted one foot up and onto the sidewalk and then the other. The crosswalk cleared, the dark blue car roared away as I too moved on, the image of the blanket enshrouded figure growing smaller and smaller in my rearview mirror as snow drifted down and covered up all signs of our passing through the intersection of each other’s lives.

Such is life in Calgary. Contradictions. Juxtapositions. And homelessness.

Where once a boarding house offered affordable shelter to single men and women, a skyrise soars into the air with its promise of the good life to come. A man who possesses everything grows momentarily impatient with someone who has nothing and leaves him in the dust of his passing by. Forgotten. Dismissed. A nobody left in the past.

This is Calgary in its boom. Good times. Affluence. Rising buildings. Rising prices. And homelessness.

In Homeless: A Prevention-Oriented Approach. (John Hopkins University Press, 1992), Rene I. Jahiel, MD, PhD. writes: “In general, the events that make people homeless are initiated and controlled by other people whom our society allows to engage in the various enterprises that contribute to the homelessness of others. The primary purpose of these enterprises is not to make people homeless but, rather, to achieve socially condoned aims such as making a living, becoming rich, obtaining a more desirable home, increasing the efficiency of the workplace, promoting the growth of cultural institutions, giving cities a competitive advantage, or helping local or federal governments to balance their budgets or limit their debts. Homelessness occurs as a side effect.”

Calgary. Soaring skylines. Growing up. Changing lives. And homelessness.

We talk of ending homelessness and in the same breath widen the gap between the haves and the have nots with our conviction that growth and prosperity are intrinsic values of our society; at any cost. We plan for the future where everyone will have a place to call home and at the same time create more homeless through our insistence that bigger is better. Bigger cities. Bigger homes. Bigger incomes. Bigger lives.

We tear down buildings that once housed low income Calgarians without consideration for where they will move on to and call it, progress. We displace renters with condo conversions and call it, free enterprise. We displace and disenfranchise those who struggle at the fringes of our society to fit in because they can't keep up; with growing trends and rent increases and higher costs of living and call it, the future.

I waited for a red light to turn green this morning and witnessed the city growing taller as a homeless man, huddled into his blanket, grew smaller in my rearview mirror.