Central Outreach & Advocacy Center

Central OAC

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Our Guests Are Our Teachers

We often get the opportunity to tell our guests’ stories to educate others.  We believe that our guests are the experts on their own experiences and, therefore, are the best teachers about homelessness.  It’s a gift to witness the ways our guests are able to teach others.  Our Main Frame Coordinator, Ahren, recently witness this is a powerful way.

During the March and April Main Frame class sessions we were lucky enough to have some honors students from Georgia State University working with our job readiness students.  Many of these students came from fairly privileged backgrounds and were learning about homelessness and poverty in an up close and personal way for the very first time. Encountering homelessness, poverty, and addiction in such an intimate way is a powerful experience that can make a lasting change in how we view and interact with the larger world.  

One of the GSU students, “Lisa”, wrote me an email about how her experience in the Main Frame impacted her.  She said that when she feels discouraged by the challenges in her own life, she thinks about the folks at the OAC and is reminded of how fortunate she is to have all that she does.  She has even gone beyond this important recognition to reach out to friends and educate them on issues of homelessness in the Atlanta area.

This kind of encounter, the kind that compels action and advocacy, is exactly what we hope for when we bring people into the OAC.  Lisa and her classmates’ recognition of the importance of not only serving and caring, but of educating people on the issues our guests are facing on a daily basis brings me hope for the future.  

If you are interested in learning from our guests, there are many ways to get involved at the OAC.  Visit our Get Involved page or email our Program Director, Chattrelle Gillyard, at [email protected] for more information.

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Small Blessings

by Rachel Carpenter

Over the course of my year as an intern at the OAC, the idea of meeting people where they are has taken on much more weight and meaning than it had previously. It’s no longer an attitude that I take lightly. It’s now a necessary mindset, as every day presents new people and new challenges.

Often when people walk through the lobby door, they are in crisis. Some have just lost their housing, documentation, or support system. Others are fleeing violence and looking for a place that is stable and safe. Still, more are worn down from spending years on the streets and weary from navigating unjust systems and institutions.

If I am not careful, I become overwhelmed by the sheer weight of their needs, but I also have to remember that we all have limits, both individually and collectively. Learning to work within these limits to meet another’s need in a dignifying way is hard and holy work.

One thing the guests have consistently shown me is that even the smallest gestures can be meaningful blessings even in the midst of great need. These moments of blessing manifest themselves in unexpected ways. Recently, as I was completing intake paperwork with one elderly gentleman, I noticed his date of birth matched the calendar, so I excitedly said, “Happy Birthday, sir”. He replied in a pleasantly surprised tone, “You are the first to wish me a happy birthday!”  Even the smallest of sentiments can be dignifying.

Another guest who had been recently injured asked if we had a cane since his last one had been stolen. I unexpectedly found one in the donations, and he replied, “Well, God does provide”. As I listened to one mother of young children who was fleeing domestic violence, I respectfully held space for her pain, knowing that the shelter list and hotline numbers may not be sufficient.

In situations like this, I trust that the Spirit works within the smallest blessings.   At the same time, we have to recognize the ways in which intersecting systems perpetuate homelessness and disproportionately affect vulnerable people. The barriers run deeper than referrals for clothing and vouchers for IDs. However, doing what we can, even on a small scale, can bring us closer to our vision of humility, respect, and dignity.

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It’s a Start

by Louden Young

“It’s a start.”  These were some of the last words I said to the very first guest I worked with at the OAC.  We had spent almost an hour working through what was needed to procure a state-issued ID. He had no documentation; his previous ID, birth certificate, Social Security card, and the rest of his wallet had been taken from him some weeks prior to walking through our doors.  He was patient with me as I fingered my way down the yes/no flowchart which guides volunteers as to what paperwork would be required by the Department of Driver Services. Together, we figured out that he would need a birth certificate, and proof of his Social Security number.  Fortunately, he was in the Selective Service registry, which could serve as proof of his Social Security number. Next, we filled out all of the paperwork the state of New Jersey requires for a copy of his birth certificate, and I let him know about the thirty day turnaround time expected with that request.  Though his initial reaction revealed some frustration for the delay this would put on his plans, he thanked me as he left. I took a moment and a breath, relieved to have successfully seen my first guest on my own. “It’s a start,” I thought to myself.

I often find myself in wonder, at how each day at Central OAC feels so familiar and yet, at the same time, radically new.  I arrange the chairs in the lobby in the same configuration each morning; I fill the water cooler with four scoops of ice from the ice maker; the staff and volunteers meet before the doors open to share joys and concerns and a moment of prayer, every morning.  The intake paperwork is the same, most of the questions we ask the guests are the same, our partner agencies are the same, and the processes we help our guests navigate rarely ever change. In the midst though, the Spirit moves and new mercies come each day. Many of the guests are new to our agency when they walk through the doors, bringing their lives in stories and sometimes, in plastic garbage bags or worn out suitcases.  The weather is different each day, and our guests often bear the signs of its indifference to their exposure to it. The few hours they spend in the OAC often aren’t enough to dry out their clothes or warm the cold from their bones. But we serve them as best as we can; we listen to their stories, and we provide for their needs in that moment, whether it be help obtaining an ID, a referral to one of our partners for clothing, food, healthcare, or job placement, a verification letter for another helping agency, or just a safe space where they can find rest, even if only for a minute.  There isn’t much we can do once they leave our doors, and so we provide them with hygiene items and a small snack to take with them. It’s not much. But it’s a start.

Just last week, the young man I helped that first day on my own came to pick up his birth certificate and an ID voucher.  I recognized him in the lobby and made sure to say hello. He said he finally had everything he needed and was going to go today to get his ID.  I let him know how happy I was for him. He told me that he had a job lined up and a lead on an apartment, and that this ID was the last piece of the puzzle.  He said, “This is the beginning, man.” Of course he is right. My heart is only beginning to make space for all of the guests I meet each morning, and for the volunteers and staff who I have come to admire.  The Spirit is only beginning to move in me as I bear witness to its work in the caring and dedicated service of this center. I am only beginning to understand the impact of this work, the pervasiveness of injustice that make centers like Central necessary, the courage of our guests to come through our doors seeking help and state issued assurance of what should never be questioned, that they are who they are, and that we see them.  And it may not seem like much, a voucher, a referral, a toothbrush, a pack of crackers, a phone to make calls on, a place to receive mail, or even just kind words in a moment of need. But then again, I know what Scripture says the Spirit can do with a little. So at the very least, it’s a start.

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People Above Process

by Michael Gable

Michael graciously served as our interim Main Frame Coordinator while Ahren Cassinari-Foster was on parental leave.  We are so grateful for all the different ways he’s served at the OAC and hope he’ll still remain connected to us even though his required internship is completed.

My introduction to Central Outreach and Advocacy Center was as a Clinical Pastoral Education student, a curriculum designed to help me experience and process the trauma of constantly working with people in crisis. So, in addition to “volunteering” 3 days a week, I also attended classes where we explored how the stories of the people who came into the OAC affected me.  The one-word answer is: “profoundly.”

I spent time with people whom most consider as just a statistic: “Atlanta’s homeless population.” While there were a few who fed into the trope of what society tells us to expect of a person experiencing homelessness, the stories of most people defied simple stereotype. The stories I encountered were a kaleidoscope of experiences. While the people I helped had a variety of needs, most simply wanted to be officially recognized as a person by our government and by other people.
As my time wore on, I worked to understand not just the job in front of me, but also how the OAC functioned as a whole. I was introduced to how it seeks to partner with other organizations to connect people with services. I witnessed the work of engaging lawmakers to make structural changes to a system with plenty of opportunity for improvement. Finally, I landed in our Main Frame program, a curriculum designed to engage people over the course of weeks, rather than minutes, helping them to learn a few basic steps to breaking into the ever-changing job market.
When you spend time with people and really listen to their stories, it gradually gets harder to dismiss them. Throughout the Main Frame class, I found myself surrounded by good people who had gotten left out of the job market for a variety of reasons.  Together, we covered skills such as career planning, resume building, job searching, and interviewing. We discussed budgeting, basic on-the-job skills, motivation, and work-life balance. We critiqued, held each other accountable, and celebrated as businesses began to respond to job applications.

Central Outreach and Advocacy Center began as just a placement, a spot where I would do my time and get my seminary credit.  But with the help of Ahren, April, Brenna, and Kimberly, I began to recognize how much more it was–a place where we come to recognize the Image of God in one another as we work to put people above process.