Filed under: J840 Week 6, Society + Media | Tags: green, J840, Lawrence Community Shelter, sustainability
I have a confession. I knew that I would learn from my service work this summer. I had no idea I would create my own framework for living.
Building a framework
My reflections:
-Curiosity appeased – learning what green means to my friends and implementing an action plan to deliver relevant, actionable ideas to my colleagues. Learning about sustainability in myriad ways; making it real after hearing from Chris Doran. Curiosity teased – I will: check out Mother Earth News, read Cialdini’s books on influence, research WalMart’s policies on a living wage and visit City Union Mission.
-Compassion – for the residents, workers and volunteers of the Lawrence Community Shelter, the Coalition for Homeless Concerns and for the people of Lawrence. The situation is complex and stereotypes don’t apply. I am hopeful that our efforts raise awareness, increase compassion and help the community find one thing to relate to, a common denominator, that helps them see the residents as individuals.
-Love – for the committed individuals I’ve met who are now friends and for the experience.
-Laughter – during class and about class. Engaged, compelling speakers made this experience more memorable.
-Learning – understanding the basics about homelessness and fear, making room for other living things, understanding the need for balance. Exert influence by understanding the audience, listening, finding common ground and framing the conversation. Jeff McIntire-Strassburg talked about communications theory: truth, accuracy and validity judgements are being made during every conversation – consider the listener’s sense of truth, accuracy and validity.
Rand Waddoups described striving to be as good as you were at your very best. With my framework in place I will strive to be my best.
-PegC.
The Johnson Family, Homeless in Lawrence
Spending a lot of time with people at the Lawrence Community Shelter, I’ve developed some kind of bond with them and the organization. I have an emotional connection now, to the point where it deeply upsets me when an uninformed or untruthful negative remark is made about the shelter or people there.
I experienced that on the day of our advocacy campaign presentations for the LCS and lost some respect for that person. I can’t find any definition or description of advocacy journalism that includes includes an emotional component, so is it wrong to have these feelings? Does it mean you’re too attached? Is it dangerous, unhealthy, or unethical?
Talking with a family who became homeless after experiencing some uncontrollable events that anyone could, I realized how often and easy it is to take life for granted. It seems almost everyone at some point in life gets knocked down and has to get back up. This experience really made me realize that not everyone has the same resources in life, and getting up can be a much harder struggle for some. I now think a more appropriate description or name for “Homeless” would be “the opposite of rich”.
After a long conversation and evening with another man at the LCS, I gave him my personal phone number and told him to call me if he needed help, advice, or just wanted to talk. I realized the shelter is understaffed, underfunded, and can’t provide all the help necessary for their guests to deal with, and recover from, issues in life.
This learning experience taught me one person can make a difference, and has forever changed my attitudes towards and actions for people and organizations like these. I just wonder if the emotional connection removes me from any future journalistic endeavors.
-Dave D.
Filed under: J840 Week 6, Local Events + Action, Society + Media | Tags: Community, homelessness, Lawrence
What is the punch line for this event? It happens 31 times a night in Lawrence; 31 people win the lottery and all receive the same payout.
These winners are tonight’s residents of the Lawrence Community Shelter (LCS). LCS can legally house 31 people at night. The 31 nightly residents are determined by way of a ‘lottery.’ Hundreds of others, non-lottery winners, spend the night outside avoiding city police patrols.
We moved to Lawrence almost two years ago, and my definition of the homeless population was quickly defined by the panhandlers on Massachusetts St., the Lawrence Journal-World news articles, and ensuing political discussions in the Lawrence community.
Window shopping on Massachusetts St. is frequently interrupted, not by requests for money, but by demands from panhandlers. Adorned with dreadlocks, dirty clothes, backpacks, dogs, and attitude, they smell of body odor, push the limits of ‘indecent exposure’, and are covered with tattoos. One young man went so far as to inform us that he would not use the money for food or to feed his dog, but for booze (he expected points for honesty, and said so). All appear lazy; either uninterested in working or unwilling to work.
In asking questions of a staffer at LCS, the answers surprised me:
The panhandlers on Massachusetts St. are normally not LCS residents; many are drug addicts from the Gaslight (the local derelict trailer park), some are lodging with friends (technically homeless) and panhandle for income, and others are from the tent city by the river. The last group is comprised mainly of people that choose to be homeless out of a sense of individualism; this is their rebellion against society. Most LCS residents seek employment and many are working, saving, and dreaming of the home they hope to soon occupy.
Your Information Website For Lawrence Homeless Concerns; Coalition for Homeless Concerns
My impression of the homeless in Lawrence was tainted, incorrect, and incomplete. The LCS residents taught me that I need to develop some humility and appreciation for my life. In our current economic times, I am one of the fortunate. This article spells it out, sadly, but accurately; “Additionally, millions of Americans are, at this moment, “precariously housed”—only one paycheck or catastrophe away from the streets.”
Angela Jones
Filed under: J840 Week 6 | Tags: abusive, Davies Hall, drugs, homeless, Kandi, Lawrence Community Shelter
Prior to my experience at the Lawrence Community Shelter (LCS), I had limited exposure to the homeless population. However, I can recall one experience I had when I was 12 years old.
Her name was Kandi. My grandmother had met her one evening when she was walking to the symphony hall. Kandi had been sleeping on the streets of San Francisco for a few years. One week, while visiting my grandmother, she took me to the symphony. Along the way, she introduced me to Kandi. In our brief five-minute conversation, Kandi asked me questions about school, what Kansas was like and how my trip was going. We then gave her some money and continued on our way to Davies Hall.
Later, my grandmother told me that Kandi had an abusive boyfriend, which explained the dark marks on her cheeks. She was also addicted to drugs.
14 years later, I still think of Kandi. What is she doing now? Is she even alive? I don’t know, but when I think about our short conversation, I am still confused. Why was she so interested in me? Clearly, she had a lot of more important things on her mind.
After visiting the shelter and talking with LCS staff, I think I understand. When you give to the LCS shelter, you’re not just limited to materials or money. Sometimes, just giving your time and talking with a homeless person is enough. Kandi was happy to be having a normal conversation with somebody. Just as important as the money we were giving her, we were engaging in conversation with her.
Stop by the Lawrence Community Shelter (credit: Google Images)
The clients at the Lawrence Community Shelter are no different. These are people with an amazing will to survive. They desire all of the comforts that I take for granted. In retrospect, I’m sure there was a lot more we could have done to help Kandi. But I am happy that my grandmother and I were able to give her something, even if it lasted only five minutes.
-Pauline H
Filed under: J840 Week 6 | Tags: Community, J840, Lawrence, understanding, University of Kansas
I was 10 years old when I got my first glimpse of the mixed opinions of how to help the homeless. I was in Washington D.C. with my parents and brother visiting family living there. We were walking toward a Metro station when we encountered a homeless man, asking for change.
My cousin reached into her pocket for change, threw it at the man and kept walking without looking him in the eye.
“He’s just going to spend it on alcohol,” my dad replied.
Talk about a contradiction. Here was my cousin who I looked up to, giving him money. My dad, on the other hand, didn’t want to give him money on the street.
Later, my dad explained to me that he prefers to donate money to homeless shelters and programs that help homeless individuals get back on their feet. To him, donating money to a program would make more of a difference than handing out a dollar or two.
Nearly two decades later, I still feel conflicted by this interaction. In some ways, they are both right and both wrong. My dad is right about the importance of giving to programs that help people get back on their feet. My cousin was right to want to give what she could at the time, although not right about how she treated the man in her lack of eye contact.
We are all human beings and co-residents of our community. We need to look out for each other. We need to help each other thrive or at the very least survive. I personally believe that if you have change in your pocket and can help someone who might need extra money for lunch, it’s ok to help.
Visiting the shelter helped me reconcile this disconnect from my past. It reconfirmed my beliefs that there are many ways to help others and make a difference in the life of other people. It also showed me what a need there is in our own community for programs like this. As fellow human beings we need to take care of each other. There is no better way to learn this or in my case to confirm this belief than by visiting a program like the Lawrence Community Shelter.
The clients at the Lawrence Community Shelter are real human beings going through a tough time. They need our respect, our understanding and our help. It was an honor to be a part of this experience and I hope that our group helped to make a difference, even if it was in a small way.
Maggie K.
Together, we can make a difference in the lives of others. Credit: Google Images.
Filed under: J840 Week 6, Society + Media | Tags: homeless, homeless shelter, homeless society, homelessness, John Lautermilch, Lawrence Community Shelter, Yates Center
No one elects to be homeless—it’s a painful and shameful situation. Instead of stopping to think homeless people are fathers, mothers, children or siblings, they are dehumanized in our society. They feel like “outsiders” and “loners,” and I finally understand why it’s hard to merge back into society once you’ve been on, what feels like, another planet. The Lawrence Community Shelter creates a family unit, which their clients wouldn’t have otherwise—allowing them to heal and transition back into society.
In my hometown of 800 there was one homeless person everyone fondly referred to as Bill the Bum or Bummer Bill. His name was actually Bill, in his mid-60’s he drove his beat-up bike everywhere—rain, wind or snow. He gathered all worldly possessions from the town dump. During warms months he lived in a tent eight miles from town. In the winter my grandfather allowed Bill to stay in a tractor shed with a wood-burning stove. He was a stoic character hardly every speaking and only when directly addressed. My cousins and I always took him a plate of food on Thanksgiving and Christmas. My grandmother said he smelled bad, but I never noticed.
Until spending the last few weeks working with the LCS I hadn’t thought about Bill for 10 years. I never thought about the isolation that buried his life. He lived in a town where everyone knew his name, but without friends. As an adult it makes me sad, guilty, and mostly disheartened. People looked from afar, but would never get too close to him; he was different—the live and let live mentality I suppose.
Throughout my upbringing I had many, incredibly brief, interactions with Bill. We always exchanged glances as he drove his bike up my grandparent’s long, gravel driveway. I was secretly terrified of him, but always gave a nervous smile right before I ran inside. Today I realize how terrible it must had felt to him. How would you feel if children ran every time you came around? How lonely it must have been for a us to deliver him food in tractor shed on Christmas Eve. We looked at him like a sideshow (half scared, half enthralled); waiting for him to do something we could talk about later. We never felt guilty about Bill spending Christmas alone in the shed, but it made us feel better to feed him.
We, the entire town of Yates Center, Kan., didn’t foster a friendly or family environment for him, but more cemented his world of alienation. Bill died when I was 18 years old. A non-local was driving though town and hit him on his bike. I’d known this man my entire life and he died without me knowing his last name. It’s with shame I share my “Bill story.” However, working with the LCS has allowed me to learn and grow from it, and the importance of its role for the “Bill’s” of the world—something that I should have been years ago.
oil painting: “Homeless” by John Lautermilch
Beth Davis
Filed under: J840 Week 6, Local Events + Action, Society + Media | Tags: Advocacy, homeless, journalism, Kansas, Lawrence
Image from http://www.iuplanet.com
Advocacy is intoxicating. The power of giving a voice to people and causes that don’t have a stage of their own through my words is better than drugs or booze.
I first started advocating for my faith when I was in college and the editor of the school paper was an aggressive athiest. I advocated for my daughter almost 20 years ago when she was diagnosed with a mental illness in elementary school. The Kansas City Star published a letter to the editor I sent in to advocate for my political beliefs. I advocated for my children in high school to raise money for their extra curricular activities by launching and writing the content for the booster club websites. I had the chance to advocate for wounded veterans by writing website content during a redesign of the Salute America’s Heroes site in my last job. And now that I’m finally figuring out what i want to be when I grow up, I must admit that the rush of finding the perfect word to set an emotional hook for a reader is not just intoxicating, it’s borderline addictive.
The experience of digging into the issues surrounding the homeless that have arisen in Lawrence this spring and summer have fed the rush. Doing the interviews where I get to look into their eyes and see their pain, feel their passion, and watch them have the hope to overcome adversity is a payoff that nothing short of incredible. The skills I have honed as an adult – listening and quickly understanding a person’s issues and feelings – and my love of words have given me hope. Words can affect change. The question that remains in advocating for the homeless in Lawrence is how will we use our words? Will we use them to affect positive change, or keep the status quo?
Cindy Olsen
J500 Media and the Environment 