Remembering Sally

Today was a sad day.

Just shy of three years ago, a woman walked through the doors of Mary’s Place looking for a coat.   She was quiet, overwhelmed, scared, but determined to get back on her feet.  After a nasty fall on an icy sidewalk, Sally found herself hospitalized, facing multiple procedures that drained her savings, her 401K, and eventually left her homeless.  Released from the hospital to the streets, she took an even harder fall, into a deep cycle of depression.   But within months of walking through our doors, Sally started to rebuild her strength, her self-esteem and her life.

She moved into a community house – 10 roommates, but a door of her own.  She started volunteering at Mary’s Place as a way to give back.   Sally started by working in Bon Mary’s, our incentive store.  Every Tuesday and Thursday she was there, setting up and running the store, helping women choose the perfect scarf or just the right perfume to spend their hard earned points on.  On non-shopping days, Sally could be found organizing the storage room, or creating incredibly beautiful gift baskets to be sold on the store.  I mean, seriously beautiful baskets.  People often commented that she should work for a boutique, the way she thoughtfully and artfully put items together was a true skill.

Slowly, Sally started teaching other women how to run and organize the store.  As she did so, she sifted into a role as Donations Queen.  She would stand at the door and greet every donor with the same genuine smile.   She kept the donations organized – a never ending task! – and made sure that everyone who came to us – a donor or a receiver, felt loved and appreciated.

A true early bird, Sally spent the early morning hours on Craigslist, trying to be the first to claim items she knew women would need as they moved into housing.  She would share the stories of the women of Mary’s Place, as well as her own, to these Craigslist sellers, and by the time the item was dropped off, they were our new best friends.  Many of our current donors and volunteers are here soley because of the relationship that Sally started with a simple email.

When Marty and I grieved at the number of women and children flooding our doors, homeless, we wanted to reach out to the faith community to start an emergency family shelter.  While we spun our big plans, Sally diligently worked the phones every day until we had 17 congregations who had stepped up to host a rotating family shelter.  One of those churches broke off from the rotating model to host a year round two-parent family shelter!   When she would call a church and get a “no” she would simply smile and say, “Well, they said no this time.  But I’ll eventually get them to say yes!  How could they not?”  Because of Sally’s compassion and passion, we have been able to house over 30 families in 9 months.

Always incredibly cheerful, Sally had a smile for everyone she met.  Her honesty was endearing and refreshing.  And her drive to change the perception of homeless women was unending.  Sally spoke every chance she could get about her own story – breaking down preconceived notions and myths about homelessness.  She welcomed in the lost, the lonely and the hurting, and connected them to resources, community and hope.

Two weeks ago, sitting in her chair, in her own apartment, Sally passed away after two months of battling various illnesses.  The shock that has followed her passing has brought many stories to surface.  Today, at her memorial, in a room packed with people who loved her dearly, women got up, one after another, to share the story of how Sally touched their lives.  Each person lit a candle in her honor, and together, we bid her body farewell.

But we know, we are confidant, that Sally has not left us.  Her legacy to Mary’s Place can be found in the mother’s relief when she finds a shelter bed tonight; and in the woman’s dignity when she shops for makeup on Bon Mary’s; and in all of those who look at homelessness with a little more compassion.

I thank you Sally, for the gifts you have given.  You will be greatly missed.

Follow-up

An article came out in today’s Seattle Times about the family shelter.  Journalist Nicole spent a whole evening at the family shelter, listening to the stories of the families, and the passions of the volunteers.  I think she captured both the need and the beauty in this article.  With love and community, comes hope and the courage to move forward.

You know those …

You know those mom stories that start, “I need to write this down so I don’t forget…”?  Well, I know I’m not a mom, but this is one of those stories.

I looked over and noticed her wiping away tears before anyone could notice they were there.  I walked over and gingerly sat down on the air mattress she called her bed.  “What’s up?”  Wiping away more tears, furious that they were escaping, “nothing.”   I gave her “the look” and said, “Come on, you can tell me.  Why are you crying?”

“I’m not crying” my 13 year old friend said.

“Ha.  I’ve played that game.  I’m 30 years old.  I’m a pro at making people believe I’m not crying when I really am.  You can’t fool me.  What’s wrong?  Are you overwhelmed?”

She took a breath, started to tell me again that she wasn’t in fact crying, and in that breath, she changed her mind and decided to trust me.  “I just want my own home.”  She looked up at me, still testing her lines of trust with me.  Her eyes scanned the large room, church fellowship hall converted into a family living room/dining room and bedroom all in one.  Volunteers were sitting down to dinner with the other families.  Behind us, more air mattresses…beds for families who had no beds of their own.

“I don’t want to seem unappreciative,” she said quietly.  “I’m just so tired of moving all the time.  I just want a place I can call my home.”

My voice caught in my throat.  I didn’t know what else to say other than, “I know sweetie.  I know you do.”  My young friend and her mother have been homeless for four months now.  Four long months having to carry all of their belongings with them every day.  Four months of being transported to her old school district, an hours drive on a good day.  Four months of desiring a place to call home.  And she is appreciative of what they have.  A shelter each night, even if it does move from church to church each week.  A hot meal for dinner.  A warm coat for those cold, early mornings waiting for the school bus.  Four months ago when the state decided to put a lifetime limit on her mother’s financial benefits, they found themselves suddenly without any income.  Mom battles multiple health issues and is unable to maintain consistent work.  They lost their small little apartment – they only place they had called home.  Finding themselves at Mary’s Place, yes, they were thankful for the shelter we could offer.  But that doesn’t keep my 13 year old friend from being sad and overwhelmed.

“I miss my clothes.  The school I go to is full of rich kids.  And I wear the same thing more than once a week.  They notice.  And I’m embarrassed.  I just want to go back to where I fit in, where they didn’t notice me.  Now I feel like everyone is watching.  I just want my clothes and my own home again.  My mom is so tired.  She is scared and I think she is shutting down.  I don’t know how we will find anything.  I can’t do this for her.”

I didn’t have any wise words for her. I could only give her a hug and ensure her that we were working a plan to help move them forward.  “I know it sucks.  But we will be here until you get all those things.  I promise.”  A small smile found its way out.  Her weary eyes looked into mine, trusting that I would keep my word.

How does the weight of the world land on the shoulders of a 13 year old girl?

Joy

When people learn what I do for a living, the most common response I get is, “Oh, that has to be so hard.  I just imagine there is so much sadness.”  And yes, there is a lot of sorrow.  A lot of grief.  Anger.  Depression.  Frustration.  Pain.  Being a mother is hard enough.  Being homeless to boot is just plain cruel.  The mothers I work with every day experience all of these emotions and more.  There are days that consist of wiping away tears, calming fears and trying to offer something to soothe their anxiety.  Where will I sleep tonight?  How will I clothe my child?  What if someone takes her away because I can’t provide a roof over her head?  Yes, it can be a sad job sometimes.

But more than fear, more that sorrow, I see hope and joy in my job.  I see mothers struggling to maintain their composure in front of their children, finding strength in their own soothing words.  I see women sharing resources with one another, encouraging each other to keep trying, to not give up.  I see mommies kiss little heads, breathing in the sweetness, and turning that breath into courage to face the next obstacle.  I see families bonding together, emerging strong and wiser, together.

This week I got to share an immense joy with a mother of 5.  Having fled a violent home with only one bag of diapers and the clothes on their backs, this mother never gave up.  When options were slim, when resources were dry, her hope never wavered.  Every day she would say to me, “Well, if not today, then soon.  Soon this will all come together.”  For just over a month they faced the reality of being homeless, depending on others for help with food, clothing, bus tickets.  When she found an apartment that would rent to her, there was a glimpse of joy, only to be dashed by lack of sufficient funds to move-in.  The end of the year is a hard time to ask for financial help from social services.  Everyone’s budgets had run dry.  “Try us again after the New Year.  Maybe we can help then.”  Over and over, this mother never gave up, calling dozens of places a day, trying to find help.  After two weeks, the landlord decided to rent to someone else.  “Well,” she said to me, “looks like today is not the day.  But soon.  Soon it will all come together.”

On Tuesday, the good news came.  A request was heard, and funding came in to pay her entire deposit (when she had only asked for half).  A call to the landlord and she learned that the previous tenants had not passed the background check.  The place was hers if she still wanted it.  She could move in that very day.  As I called to share the good news, I could literally feel her exuberant joy flooding through the phone.  “Its here!  Its here!  Our day is here!  Our day has finally arrived!” she shouted into the phone.

No more fear.  No more anxiety.  No more frustration.  At least not for this moment.  No friends, this moment was made for joy.  For it had all come together.

Yesterday

Yesterday was easily the hardest day at work I have ever had.  I struggled with the balance of truth and grace that we try to live out at Mary’s Place.  Yesterday, the truth came down too hard, and the consequences were devastating.  Yet necessary.  I watched a family fall apart.  I whispered prayers of safety over a child I know I will never see again.  I applied pressure to a wound and remained calm when needed.  I told jokes to lighten the mood, trying to crack smiles where there had been fear.  I offered my shoulder, for tears, for stability.

There are days that my job is pure joy.  Laughter.  Singing.  Lots of hugs.

Yesterday was not one of those days.  The end of the day left me weaker than drained.  My heart hurt for the pain I witnessed in just a few short hours.  My head swam with pitiful prayers and recalls of what I could have done better.

In the world of homelessness, it seems that every emotion is felt so much deeper.  Joy is more jubilant.  Pain is more wretched.  Laughter is more contagious.  Heartbreak is more permanent.

My husband and I played the “We’re so lucky” game the other night.  Talking about how incredibly blessed we are: to have jobs that we love; to have each other; to have a home; a family that supports and love us…the list goes on and on.  The game was spurred from a conversation about the pending benefit cuts in our state’s budget.

Washington State is proposing massive cuts to financial aid.  They are proposing to eliminate all funding for Disability Lifeline, and to cut TANF, Food stamps, and health care. This after they have already cut those budgets twice.  Right now, an individual on Disability Lifeline receives $266 a month. Tell me, how in the world do you live on $266 a month?  Food stamps have been slashed, TANF (Temporary Assistance for Needy Families) has been cut, both in the last year.  And they are facing more cuts.  That means more disabled individuals will lose their subsidized housing, when they lose their only source of income.  That means more mothers will have to choose between food and shelter.  That means more hungry people, trying to find a meal.

I work with these individuals. I work with these mothers who have fled domestic violence, and have to depend on government assistance, because, try as they might (and believe me, they try!) they cannot find a job.  I work with these individuals who have such severe physical or mental disabilities that they are incapable of earning a living wage.  I know these people by name, who depend on whatever assistance is available, just so they can live.

With these cuts, more men, women and children will be on the streets.  Right now, the average wait to get into a domestic violence shelter in King County is over a week.  The average wait to get into an emergency family shelter is 3 weeks.  Three weeks!  For an emergency shelter.  I am currently working with a mother who has 7 children.  Seven beautiful, well-behaved, smart kids who didn’t ask to be homeless.  They have been waiting for a month for a spot to open up somewhere.  Anywhere.  Their mom has been fighting, to no avail, to get on some kind of government assistance, just until she can get a job.  In the last three weeks she has applied to 22 different jobs, with only one call back.  She didn’t ask for this.  I know of a grandmother, who is caring for her two grandchildren.  The three of them live off the meager $266 from Disability Lifeline – less really, if you factor in that her subsidized housing is 30% of her income.  If she loses her check, she will losing her housing.  And then what?

Then what Washington?

I know that I am lucky.  Damn lucky.  I have been blessed with my health.  Both my husband and I have stable incomes.  And if, God forbid, something were to happen – if one of us were to fall ill, lose a job, our savings, our home – we know without a doubt any number of family members would step in.  Friends would offer us a place to stay.  Yes, we are so so lucky.

But what about those who don’t have stable family?  Those whose friends are in the same boat they are in?  Those who have lost a job, a spouse, their savings, their hope?  Where is their luck?

It makes me weep with anger.  It makes me want to scream.  It really makes me want to force those Olympian decision makers to try to live off of the scant incomes they are getting ready to cut for one month.  Hell, see if you can live off of that for one week!

And so I urge you – do what you can to effect change.  Say something.  Write a letter.  Call a representative.  Rally.  Donate food to a food bank.  Talk to your church about opening your doors at night as a shelter.  Go visit a shelter and let the people there know that someone actually gives a damn.

And remember, and be thankful every day, for your own stroke of luck, recognizing that at any moment, it too could turn.

 

Refresh Everything

In this season of giving and giving joyfully, let me offer you a way that you can give safety and peace of mind to a homeless mom.

My work place, Mary’s Place, is in the running for a $50,000 grant from the Pepsi Refresh Project.  This is a super cool thing from Pepsi to fund good ideas that make a difference in local communities around the country.  There are different grant levels, and the top ten winners from each level, wins the grant.  Winning is based on voting.  So we are reaching out to the far corners of the earth (Hello Squatbean in Germany, Christy in Nicaragua and Aaron in Hong Kong!!) trying to drum up more votes!!

If we were to win the grant, the money would go to the Family Program, which is the area in which I work!  We are the only day center in King County that welcomes homeless moms with their children without a refrerral.  We see families who have just stepped off the Greyhound, having traveled across the country fleeing their abuser.  We see mothers who have a job, but their rental home was foreclosed on, and with only a week’s warning, found themselves living in their van.  We see grandmothers taking care of their grandchildren, when the mother is unable to do so any more.  We see these moms desperately working every day to find shelter – safe shelter – for their children.  In Washington, it can be up to a 4 week wait to get into an emergency family shelter. In the meantime, what are these families to do?  When they come in to Mary’s Place, we make sure they are fed, clothed, clean and safe.  We give them a hotel to stay in until a bed at a shelter opens up. Everyday we are seeking out new resources for shelter, clothes and diapers.  We connect these moms with DV advocates, schools and counselors.  And with a grant dedicated strictly to the Family Program, we could increase these services.

Would you please consider voting?  It is so easy.  Simply go to the Refresh site (www.refresheverything.com for those who aren’t link followers), and create a log-in.  It seriously takes less than 2 minutes.  Then search for Mary’s Place, we have the picture of the mom with the super cute baby!

(see!  SUPER cute baby)

Then vote.  You get 10 votes a day to spread out among all the good ideas, but you can only vote for each idea once a day.  So remember, vote every day. This is a popularity contest, and we’re hoping to win, so if you decide to spread out your vote, please vote just in the other grant levels!!  Then, spread the word.  The more votes from more areas around the country, the better!!

It couldn’t be easier.  Vote every day.  Help give peace of mind and saftey to a mom who so desperately needs it.

http://www.refresheverything.com/marysplaceseattle

Home Sweet Home

It has been a long road baby, but we’re finally home.

Mary’s Place has had quite the struggle in our search for a new home.  It has been an uphill battle to secure a home for the day center.  We have been championed by many, many amazingly incredible people and organizations.  For all the heartache and severe frustrations, there have been more moments of awe, more miracles than we can count, and more blessings than we imagined.  I am proud to say that out of the tears, out of the abandonment, out of the heartache, we have emerged stronger, more passionate, and more surrounded by incredible community.  At last, Marys’ Place has a home.   Two, in fact.

In 2012 Mary’s Place will be moving into the Hope Center, a project of Gethsemane Lutheran Church that is about to break ground.  The Center will house Mary’s Place/Church of Mary Magdalene, Gethsemane Community Services, Soup and Movies (a great Saturday program that offers just what their name suggests – along with a safe place to be during the day), and more affordable housing through Compass Housing Alliance.  It will be an incredible building that will offer so many levels of service to the homeless and low-income community.  We will have a long-term lease at the Hope Center, and the space is being built to cater to the needs of our day center. It is nothing short of a miracle to be welcomed into this building.

While we are waiting for this wonderful place to be built, we still had to find another temporary home.  Enter “The Miracle on Bell St.”  Through the hard and diligent work of tireless advocates, we have moved into a wonderful space in the downtown Belltown district.  This puts us back in the bus ride-free zone, closer to other service centers, and in a space all our own.  We have been welcomed in by the Belltown community, for which we are so thankful.  We have seen our supporters continue to stand beside us, and have made so many new friends in the process.  We could not be more excited to be in our new home.

It has been a long journey.  But we are finally home.

Worth sharing

I struggle with sharing stories from work in such a public arena.  (not that I have that many followers!)  But there are some stories that need to be shared. 

The Seattle Times is doing a series on homeless families entitled Invisible Families.  They started their research back in April, and spent a good bit of time at Mary’s Place talking with my director and myself.  We connected the reporter with one of our families we thought would be willing to share.  She was, and her story is incredible.  It is the struggle of so many in this city, and in this nation today. 

Please check out the story video, the story of June Lloyd and her two sons.