Central Outreach & Advocacy Center

Central OAC

By

The OAC Community

by Brenna Lakeson

I could speak relentlessly on how grateful I am for the team at the OAC. I constantly tell people we’re “small but mighty.” With only four full-time staff, it’s sometimes overwhelming to do everything we need to do to run the OAC, but we get it done. Whenever there’s an unexpected challenge to face, I’m always proud of the ways we band together to solve it head on. Especially in the past six months, our staff and board have consistently risen to the challenge of caring for our guests and for each other.

There are plenty of days when our work is difficult. We see a lot of people who carry the weight of the world on their shoulders, and it can be hard to witness. We are also sometimes the recipients of our guests’ frustration and anger, which is understandable because of everything they experience but also challenging to endure. I wouldn’t be able to do this work without such a supportive team. I know that at the end of a hard day, our team will be there to vent with me and listen. I also know they’ll be there to remind me why we do what we do by telling stories of the guests who have touched them. Our team is a daily blessing.

Each morning, we share joys and concerns together with our volunteers and interns. Usually, we pray in a circle together about these things, but lately we’ve been sharing together over email. This has become a sacred time for many of us. I’ve faced a lot of personal challenges over the past couple years, as have many others in our community. Our daily practice of holding space for each other has supported us through deaths, health struggles, and family issues. It also gives us hope by celebrating children and grandchildren, new homes, and small daily joys. Being able to share with our team is good for my soul.

The OAC community isn’t the same these days, and while I miss seeing all of our volunteers and supporters in person, I know that there’s still a team behind me, supporting our work everyday, and I’m grateful.

By

The Hardships of Trauma

by Chattrelle Gillyard

Often we see homelessness as a choice. There is stigma surrounding homelessness that causes many of us to believe that people experiencing it are lazy. They’ve chosen to be homeless or unemployed or that they’re the reason why they are currently experiencing homelessness. But most people in this situation did not choose it. What’s more, many people experiencing homelessness have endured some sort of trauma in their life. According to SAMSHA, homelessness in itself is considered a traumatic event.

Could you imagine losing your home and your job due to a natural disaster such as a hurricane? Can you imagine aging out of the foster care system with no stable living place to go? Can you imagine growing up poor and never really having a place to call home? Or what about having to run away from home due to abuse or neglect at a young age? Though many are fortunate enough to overcome these particular traumas, others aren’t that fortunate. Mental health conditions, substance use issues, and even paranoia and lack of trust can develop from unresolved trauma. These conditions are also all barriers to employment, affordable housing, and proper health care. Many people experiencing homelessness battle with unresolved trauma every day and are constantly reminded of their situation and looked down upon. It’s easy to see what’s on the outside, and it’s easy to judge and make assumptions. It’s even easier to label people who are different from us. It’s harder to look past someone’s appearance or current station in life to sympathize with where they’ve been or what they’ve been through.

Though many of us have experienced the same or similar traumas as our guests, we still choose to believe the stigma surrounding people experiencing homelessness. We still speed walk past them, frown at a particular smell they carry, ignore them when we see them, and even talk down to them. We put ourselves on a pedestal to make ourselves feel better, all while ignoring the reality that we could be one traumatic event from experiencing homelessness too. I challenge you to follow the tenets and values of Central OAC when it comes to interacting with someone who is experiencing homelessness. Meet them where they are with patience and humility. Treat them with respect, and dignity. Trauma is all around us and affects everyone differently. Don’t be in a rush to judge more than you are to understand.

By

Peace and Justice

by Ahren Cassinari-Foster

The other day, I had a very interesting interaction with a guest.  She came to the front desk to ask for services, but it was far past the time of the morning when a case manager would be able to meet with her.  When I told her that we could not offer what she was asking for, she asked for clothing and food, both of which are not items we provide regularly, and especially not under the current health risks. So, unfortunately, I was again unable to give her anything she asked for.  She continued to ask some questions about our services, peppered with frustrated comments about not being able to get help. She was talking so quickly that I couldn’t understand her, so I asked her to repeat herself. 

 

She paused and said this: “I want peace and justice.”

 

Her request really took me aback. I was totally caught off-guard because I was having so much trouble understanding the other questions she was asking me. All I could muster at the moment was, “I’m sorry but I cannot offer you that either.”

 

As the morning slowed I began to reflect more on her request. Through everything that she said, through the rambling and mumbling and our inability to give her what she needed, she asked for something many of us, especially our guests, are hurting for right now: peace and justice.

 

Over the past few weeks, we’ve heard protesters demanding for justice for Black people so that we can work toward peace. “No justice, no peace.” Over the past months, our world has been full of chaos with ever rising health risks and the fear of becoming ill. Every day our guests feel the weight of an unjust system pressing on them. 

 

So, it’s no wonder that this particular guest, after not being able to get her physical needs met, asked for the only other thing she could think of that would help her heal: peace and justice.

By

In the Midst of Two Pandemics

by Kimberly Parker

I recently looked back to see the last time I had written a blog post. It was March 18, 2020. It was titled, “Pandemic While Homeless.” Here we are three months later, and we are still dealing with the pandemic. Our guests experiencing homelessness are as well. For the last few months, I have been on a call once or twice a week with our City’s Continuum of Care (CoC) to get updates on the effect the coronavirus is having on our homeless community. Thankfully, the numbers within this population have remained rather low, for which we are all grateful. In the midst of this time, an isolation hotel was secured for people who tested positive for COVID-19 and a healthy hotel was secured for people who were at high risk for the virus. The isolation hotel has had low numbers and the healthy hotel has been at capacity. Many of the guests in the healthy hotel came from encampments or the airport. These particular guests are working with the CoC and should be placed in housing units rather than going back to the street. This is all good news in the midst of a pandemic. 

The virus pandemic has consumed our world, but there’s also another pandemic that has consumed our world … racism. This particular pandemic is not new; it has been happening for centuries. We are at a point where people of color have expressed how tired they are and are demanding to be heard. They are tired of family members being sought out by police. They are tired of the injustices that line up against them. They are tired of the inequality in our systems (lower paying jobs even with the same education as a white person, less likely to gain an interview because of their name, voter suppression, etc.). They are tired of family members being killed for jogging, law enforcement going to their home and assuming they have drugs, being accused of having counterfeit money, being accused of trying to resist arrest while intoxicated, the list goes on and on. I have no idea what my brothers and sisters of color endure, because I have never personally experienced any of it. I have lived a very privileged life, mainly because of my white skin. 

This August, I will have worked at Central Outreach and Advocacy Center for sixteen years. I went from doing direct services with our guests in a part-time capacity to serving as the Program Director and then the Executive Director. I am a white leader in an environment that is predominantly Black. We typically serve over 4,000 unduplicated guests each year; 88% of the people identify themselves as Black/African American. As the Executive Director, I am the person with power, serving others with very little power. Ultimately, I have the last word. If a guest is having a bad day and not behaving in the manner in which we desire, I can say, “We can’t serve you today. Come back and try another day.” Or, if the behavior is bad enough in my eyes, we can ban the person for good. This is power and there have been times in the past when my decision has angered another and he has looked me in the eyes and yelled, “You are a racist!” The words hurt, but it’s these words that keep coming to my mind these days.

Am I racist? Gosh, I want to believe that I am not. However, it’s time for me to take a deep look at who I am and how my privilege might affect another. I am sure I have a lot to learn and I am open to doing so. If at any time, you want to enter a conversation with me on this topic of racism, I am open to doing so. Black lives do matter and I want to make sure I do all that I can personally, and as a leader, to get this message across. It is an honor and privilege to serve at Central OAC, and I want to do it justice!