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!