Central OAC

by Lesley Brogan

It took me three hours and 20 minutes to walk 10 miles today. And these are some things that I am left with:

I had good shoes and socks when I set off. I had plenty of iced tea to drink and a Cliff bar to eat along the way. I walked along Mission Bay with folks who had driven and parked their cars or walked from their homes close by. We were enjoying a beautiful Southern California day to be outside.

I guess it was about mile five or so that my feet started hurting, and I thought it wasn’t much fun. At mile seven, I was able to stop and get a fresh iced tea and go to the bathroom in a clean and safe place.

When I finished, I was very much aware that because I had an iPhone and could call ahead to someone I loved waiting for me at home, I knew I’d be able to walk into our house and know that my partner, Lori, my partner, had a tall iced tea ready for me. I could walk into our bathroom, get an ice pack or two, and put my feet up. Soon after that, I could take a nice cool shower and put on clean clothes to watch college kids play basketball in a tournament.

It was hard for me to walk 10 miles today. My feet are sore now, and my lower back hurts. I am mindful of all the privileges accompanying me on this walk today. Thanks to the OAC, I am mindful in more real and practical ways of having a glimpse of walking in another person‘s shoes.

by Lisa Gwock

This is the third year that I’ve participated in Central Outreach & Advocacy Center’s “In Their
Shoes” fundraising event. Each year I’ve challenged myself to walk the entire 10 miles in one
day to show my support and in solidarity with those experiencing homelessness that I serve each Monday when I volunteer at Central OAC. Yes, this morning I walked 10 miles but, in no
way, do I feel I am “walking in their shoes.”

For starters, I was walking in some nice, almost new, trail running shoes that are the right size wearing warm merino wool socks. Many of the guests I see are wearing poorly fitted worn out
shoes and often could use new socks. When I finished my walk, I came home and took a shower and put on clean clothes, not something easily done for those who are living on the streets (or as our intake paperwork states, “a place not meant for habitation.”

The past two years, I walked on beautiful spring days unlike today when it was freezing. Fortunately, I was able to put on layers appropriate for the cool weather. All I carried with me was a hydration backpack and my phone. In addition to walking miles each day, persons experiencing homelessness often do not have appropriate clothing for the weather and are
carrying a heavy shopping bag in one hand with everything they own.

When I begin my walk, like many of our guests, it was still dark outside, but I left from inside my
warm house after a good night’s sleep in a bed, not having slept outside in the cold with one
eye open to make sure no one stole my stuff while I was trying to get some rest. I’d also had
my morning coffee and a good breakfast. I’m grateful that thanks to donations, most days we
can offer our guests a sack lunch or, at least snack when they arrive for services. I knew I had
family and friends and a church community that I could call on if I needed help. When asked
what type of support system they have, many of the guests I work with answer, “no one.”

As I walked this morning, I had time to reflect on how much I was not walking in the steps of
those experience homelessness. I also realize how much I take for granted: a warm home,
warm clothes, good shoes, a shower, a support system, and so much more. I feel privileged to
be able to volunteer at Central Outreach & Advocacy and hope each day I’m there, I’m able to
help each guest I work with to get the services they need. Yes, I walked 10-miles but not really
“in their shoes” but I’m grateful that I can still walk 10 miles and thankful for the insights as I
walked.

by Anita Pullani (UGA MSW Intern)

“Walking a mile in someone else’s shoes isn’t as much about the walk or the shoes; it’s to be able to think like they think, feel what they feel, and understand why they are who and where they are.   Every step is about empathy.” – Toni Sorenson 

During the past six months of my internship, I have been fortunate to be able to listen to our guests’ diverse stories. They have taught me important lessons on faith, perseverance, and gratitude. Empathy is critical for social workers, but can it be learned in the classroom? My professors have continually stressed the importance of examining our beliefs, identities, biases, and experiences and how they may influence and color our interactions with others. Without this self-assessment, how can you begin to understand the experiences of another person?

Before this internship, I did not fully comprehend why chronic homelessness continues to plague Atlanta’s streets. Our discriminatory social services system cannot be the only cause of this situation. As a society, we can only thrive if everyone can receive a living wage, affordable housing, food security, and access to quality healthcare and mental/behavioral health services. Our guests are not ultimately looking for handouts; they need the tools and resources to get back their life. One of the central tenets of Central Outreach and Advocacy Center is “empowering our guests to take the next step toward self-sufficiency.” I will never understand their struggles until I walk in their shoes. At the same time, I hope to take a few encouraging steps beside them on this journey.

by Kimberly Parker

(In full transparency, I wrote this blog for Central Presbyterian Church to use in an Advent booklet they published. December is one of the months I write a blog for Central Outreach and Advocacy Center. I really felt this was the blog I wanted to share with our readers so I decided I could adapt it a bit.) 

“And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn.” Luke 2:7 KJV

Can you imagine showing up at an inn (hotel, motel, cabin, friend’s house, etc.) and being told “there is no room for you here?” Or maybe that has happened to you. I don’t think I’ve ever experienced that, but others may have, due to some unforeseen circumstance.

I can’t imagine what Mary and Joseph experienced or felt when they were told there was no room in the inn.

I feel like some of the guests we see at Central Outreach and Advocacy Center are often told there is no room for them. It may be when they walk to a shelter and hear the words, “We are full.” It may be when they try a different shelter and are told, “We cannot give you a place to sleep until you have a state ID.” 

I get the feeling that it isn’t just at shelters that our guests sometimes feel like they are being told, “There is no room for you here.” Sometimes that feeling can be associated with the way in which someone is treated. Our guests are often ignored, walked around, and shunned. People are sometimes scared of them. Some don’t know what to say to someone who is dirty and smelly or someone who appears to be talking to someone who is not standing right there with them.

I know for sure that our guests are often treated poorly when they go into places seeking services. They share that with us. I can imagine that during these times, they feel as if there is no room for them.

At the OAC, our values are, “We believe in meeting people where they are with patience and humility, and treating each person with respect and dignity.” Our team does our very best to make sure we do this with each person we encounter. It’s not always easy. Our guests sometimes come to our doors, hungry, dirty, angry, tired, and totally beat down. As we attempt to meet them where they are with patience and humility, and treat them with the respect and dignity that everyone deserves, I hope we are saying to them, “There is room at our inn for you.”

I wonder during this holiday season and into the New Year if we could make sure we say to another person in some form or fashion that there is room at our inn for you? I wonder if we are able to do that, what that invitation may feel like to us? Who knows? In doing so, it might transform our own lives!