Central Outreach & Advocacy Center

Central OAC

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Finding Thin Places

by Brenna Lakeson

When I was in seminary, we would often talk about “thin places” –  a phrase used by Irish priest John O’Donohue among others – to identify moments when the barrier between our earthly reality and the holy realm beyond seems to disintegrate.  A thin place might be as simple as seeing the sun rise or as poignant as watching a child be born.  A thin place is a moment where the boundary between yourself and God feels nonexistent, when the holy reaches out and touches you in a real way.  

At the OAC, it can sometimes be difficult to find thin places.  It can be loud and chaotic.  Sometimes our guests are angry and yell, albeit for warranted reasons.  Sometimes our guests are so tired of the brokenness they feel.  On the other hand, though, thin places are all around us at the OAC: a guest letting a stranger borrow his phone to call home, a whole line of able bodied individuals letting a lady in a wheelchair cut in line.  I want to share some of the thin places that I’ve been honored to bear witness to at the OAC, in the hopes that all of us will look for the thin places instead of the broken ones.

 

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Paul

Recently, I woke up in the morning with a pulled neck muscle.  It was hard for me to turn my head side to side. I did stretches at my desk during the day to try to get some mobility back.  I apologized to each guest I met with, so they wouldn’t think that I was purposefully not looking in their direction.  One guest in particular, “Paul”, took an interest in my neck injury.  “That happened to me a while back,” he said.  “You gotta do your stretches.  And get some Bengay to put on there.  That’ll do the trick.”  Again on his way out, he reminded me to get some Bengay to relieve my pain.  

About a week later, Paul joined our Main Frame program, and I saw him at the OAC one afternoon.  “How’s your neck doing?” he called after me.  I smiled.  “It’s doing so much better, thank you for remembering!” I responded.  With all that Paul had to worry about, he managed to remember my insignificant pulled muscle and wanted to know if I was doing okay.  Whenever guests take the time to care for our staff and volunteers, I am always touched.

 

Mr. Peters

Last week, I worked with “Mr. Peters.” Mr. Peters was the first guest I served that morning.  I was tired and wasn’t feeling very energetic.  I just wanted to do my job and get through the list of guests without too much fuss.  Mr. Peters, however, wasn’t having it.  First thing, he asked me how I was doing on a scale of 1 to 10.  He told me he was an 8.5.  I told him I was about a 7, and he said he was determined to get me to at least an 8 by the time he left.  When I asked him why he wanted to get a Georgia ID, he told me he needed it to give blood.  Each time I smiled during our interaction, he would say “Are you at an 8 now?”.  On his way out, I asked him if he needed any toiletries or snacks.  He told me he didn’t want to take any because he wanted to save them for the “people who really need them.”  He was, however, very excited to share some salt water taffy with me.  

Despite his circumstances, Mr. Peters consistently found joy around him, even in some salt water taffy.  What’s more, all he wanted was to use his abilities to make other people smile.  After our meeting, he met with our representative from Social Security to apply for SSI benefits.  It was clear to me that Mr. Peters didn’t have much going for him.  Despite seeming like a nice grandfather, he didn’t seem to have any family that was supportive.  But he made everyone he met feel like family.  Despite not having any financial resources, he wanted to give what he did have – blood.  Meeting with Mr. Peters forced me to check my own feelings at the door.  I had come to work grumpy, but Mr. Peters had come to our center full of joy to share.

 

Jamal

Several months ago, I worked with “Jamal.”  Jamal had nothing but the clothes on his back, and we were helping him get a Georgia ID.  I gave him some of the donated clothes in one of our back rooms, and he was beyond grateful.  On his way out, he asked if we had a comb.  I told him that we didn’t.  He wanted to comb out the braids in his hair to re-style it, but we didn’t have anything to offer him.  He went on his way, and I didn’t think much of it.  

However, about an hour later, I walked through our lobby only to catch a glimpse of Jamal sitting on the ground with one of our female guests squatting behind him, combing out his hair for him and re-braiding it.  This moment has stuck with me in an indescribable way.  These two guests, arguably some of our loudest and, at times, challenging guests, were taking care of each other.  Like two children at a sleepover, they were chatting and braiding hair as though they had nothing else to worry about.  I watched them for a few minutes, sharing stories and relaxing in the courtyard.  It touched my heart to see our guests caring for each other in such an intimate way.

 

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Our guests deal with more on a daily basis than many of us face in a lifetime.  However, every day we see them reach outside of themselves and care for those around them.  In circumstances where they have every reason to be selfish, they somehow find the strength to show compassion and kindness in often unexpected ways.  In the midst of suffering, they recognize suffering in others.  In the midst of trauma, they recognize the needs of others.  There is great holiness in this, and also a wholeness:  when we care for others, even when we are hurting, it helps us heal.

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6 Lessons from Hurricane Irma

by Kimberly Parker

Last week was a trying week for me. Prior to last Monday afternoon, I had stayed glued to the television, watching all of the news about Hurricane Irma, where she was going to strike next, and anticipating her arrival in Atlanta. I am not a stranger to hurricanes since I lived in Mobile, AL (on the Gulf Coast) for eleven years, but it’s been a long time since I have worried about the fact that a hurricane might hit near me. Irma was devastating to all of the places she had encountered so it was a little scary as Atlanta waited for her arrival.

In reality, Atlanta was not nearly as affected as other places. Yes, trees came down. Houses and cars were damaged. And many were without power, but we still did not have the kind of devastation that others experienced.

For me, loss of power was the only issue. Thankfully, we did not have any trees down at our house and no damage of any kind to our house or car or our very beings. We simply were without power for about 80 hours. It was a long 80 hours for me. I tried so hard not to complain because we did not have any damage. We were not hurt. We still had our family. We still had a home.

I have reflected a lot on those few days, trying to figure out why it was so hard for me and trying to learn from a time that challenged me quite a bit. I know that the number one thing I learned from Irma is that there is a lot in life that I take for granted. I have so much more than others, especially in regards to the people experiencing homelessness who walk through Central Outreach and Advocacy’s doors each and every day.

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So what are some of the other things I learned?

Lesson #1: Invitation … We had several different friends who did not lose power invite us to stay with them. How often do our guests get an invitation from someone to stay at their place? I would say this almost never happens. And we had more than one invitation.

Lesson #2: Showers … Taking a cold shower is not fun, but it is a shower and, again, we had friends who offered their hot showers to us. Without a home, people often do not have a place to shower. There are agencies and shelters who provide showers, but there are often restrictions that limit how often or how long a person can stay in the shower. Some of our guests may go days without a hot shower. I only went a couple of days without one.

Lesson #3: Cell Phone … One of the things I worried about the most was my cell phone and not being able to charge it. Fortunately, I was able to go into my office on Tuesday, even though we were closed for services, and charge my cell phone. I use my cell phone a lot. I use it for work, news, entertainment, communication, etc. Without it, I felt lost. On our first day being back open, my door was open and I was listening to a conversation taking place in the lobby. Two people were taking turns charging their cell phone. One guest said, “Okay I have 10% battery; you go ahead and charge yours for a little while.” It was a strong reminder that I am way too dependent on my cell phone.

Lesson #4: Laundry … One of my team members said that we could come and do our laundry if we needed to. Fortunately, we had done our laundry over the weekend so the majority of our clothes were clean. We see people walk into Central OAC every day with clothes that appear to have been worn for a while without being washed.

Lesson #5: Food Security … We ate out a lot because we couldn’t cook. We have the means to do that. It might not be the best use of our money, but we didn’t go hungry. Even though there are places for those experiencing homelessness to eat, it’s not always convenient or it may have restrictions that keep some from eating. I know that some of our guests do not have enough food to eat on a daily basis. I never go hungry.

Lesson #6: Darkness … I think one of the things that was so difficult for me was the darkness each night. Yes, we had candles that we lit, but candles can’t light up a room as well as electricity. It made me feel trapped in a sense and I don’t like that feeling. I thought a lot about the people who sleep out on the street. They must experience the kind of darkness that I felt last week, but possibly on a daily basis.

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Last week was a trying week for me. Through it all, I tried not to complain, but I did. My routine was thrown off, and I am a person who thrives best with routine. I kept trying to remind myself that we really did not have it all that bad, and, even though the power being out was an inconvenience, it would return. Life would also go back to being “normal.” I don’t think I am finished learning from Hurricane Irma. Each day, something else happens or I hear another conversation that reminds me of how privileged I am. I need to do a better job of not taking life and all that comes with life, for granted. I guess I should say “thanks” to Irma for teaching me a lesson or two.

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13 Years at the OAC

by Kimberly Parker

August 24, 2004

No, I didn’t get the date wrong! August 24, 2004 was my first day as a part-time employee of Central Outreach & Advocacy Center! Thirteen years ago! Who would have thought a new Columbia Theological Seminary graduate who was seeking a call in a parish would end up at Central OAC? I didn’t, and I also didn’t think I would be there very long, but after a few months, I was offered a full-time position and after a few more months, I knew that I had been called to the OAC. My parish was simply going to look a little different than the typical high, holy hour of 11 am on a Sunday morning.

During my thirteen years …  

  • I have worked under three different Executive Directors.
  • The OAC Board has had six different Chairs.
  • Two different Leadership Atlanta teams have completed projects for the OAC.
  • The Main Frame Job Readiness Program was created.
  • Three strategic plans have guided the programs and services.
  • The first Development Director was hired.
  • The first Director of Public Policy Advocacy was hired.
  • The budget has been sustainable and the budget has been in crisis.
  • Two annual fundraisers have been established: Cheers for Change and Central ArtWorks.
  • The staff has been as large as nine members and as small as three.
  • My own role has changed five different times:
    • Outreach Advocate
    • Assistant Program Manager
    • Director of Outreach Services
    • Acting Executive Director
    • Executive Director

It has been an amazing thirteen years! I have worked and continue to work with great people: staff, volunteers, interns, and Board members. I have sat with guests and heard their difficult stories. I have cried with some. I have laughed with some. I have been angry with some.  I have watched some of our guests struggle for thirteen years, something I wish were not the case. I have seen others move out of their dire situations. I have had guests come back and thank me for the work we do. I have had guests yell at me because we can’t do enough to assist them. The work has never been easy, but it has been rewarding.

I have come to understand that people experiencing homelessness are no different than you and I and with certain changes in our own circumstances, we too could be walking in their shoes. I have come to understand that the issue of homelessness is extremely complex and the solutions are not quick and easy. It takes a lot of different organizations working together, each focusing on what they do well to truly make a difference in the numbers of those experiencing homelessness. It takes resources to make it work and not all funders want to support this type of work.

I am certainly not the same individual that I was thirteen years ago, when I first walked in the doors of Central OAC. I have grown and changed as a person. As I said earlier, I never dreamed I would still be here thirteen years later. There were certainly times when I thought I couldn’t do this work one more day and there are still days like that. However, throughout these thirteen years, people have been there to support and encourage me. Without each person (and there are too many to individually thank), I would not still be here. I often say that I hope when it is time for me to leave Central OAC that I will clearly know that. For now, however, I am still serving and I am grateful for the dedicated staff, volunteers and board members whom I work with each day. It truly is a privilege to serve in this place as we all work together to open doors to overcome and prevent homelessness!

Kimberly isn’t the only one celebrating an anniversary: Central OAC is celebrating 20 years of service in downtown Atlanta! In honor of both Kimberly’s time at the OAC and Central OAC turning 20, please consider giving to support our continuing work.  Visit our donations page for more.

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Hearing from the Source

by April Campbell

A couple of months ago, Ahren, our Main Frame Coordinator, came to the team with the idea of putting together a focus group with the goal of discussing the issues people experiencing homelessness face.  The focus group would also serve to improve how we, both as an agency and individually, could help advocate for everyone who comes through our doors. Everyone on the team thought it was a wonderful idea to provide a space for us to speak to our guests and gain firsthand knowledge of the problems they have experienced. The group was planned for December 13th, and I had the pleasure of being asked to co-facilitate the group with Ahren. I don’t think either one of us knew that by facilitating this focus group we would be introduced to so many personal tragedies, triumphs, and such a sense of community between the people in the room.

We began the group by having each person introduce themselves, if they felt comfortable, by saying just their first name. The group was quiet at first – no one said much more than what they were asked to share. Ahren and I then introduced ourselves and explained to the group how important advocacy is to the values and morals of this agency and how their stories can help us to fight the social injustices they face. We then opened the floor to anyone who wanted to share. Hands slowly began to rise, and the more people talked, the more energy was added to the room. It was amazing to watch! People were able to share their hardships with others who understood what they are going through.  People were able to share different resources they have found over the years, and in turn, helped others in the group.  People were also able to laugh together and forget, if just for a moment, what faced them when they left our doors. By the end of the focus group, our guests had come up with nineteen challenges that people experiencing homelessness face. Some of the challenges they mentioned were: affordable housing, stress and tiredness, evictions, job availability, addiction, medical care, mental health, and safe & clean shelters. One particular item that was on their list was lack of storage. When this was said, everyone in the room nodded or voiced their agreement. When the particular guest who brought it up was asked to explain what he meant, he stated, “I stay at a shelter at night and have to take all my stuff with me in the morning. I’m not able to leave my bags there. Do you really think people want me in a store or at a job interview with all my stuff? It just makes it known that I don’t have anywhere to go.” This was so eye opening to me. Everyday guests come through our doors to receive services, many times with bags upon bags in their hands. I never thought about where they would place their items if they needed to complete a task that did not allow for them to bring their belongings.

I write about this experience to say that everyone has a story.  I write about this experience to remind myself that every person who walks through our doors deal with daily challenges that I cannot even fathom. I write about this experience to say how important is it to understand what we are advocating for – to hear it from the people experiencing it and not just assuming we know their needs.  It’s because of stories like the ones we heard in our focus group that the OAC continues to advocate until all of our guests  have a place to call home at the end of the day.