The Gift of Change

The other day I was observing a poverty-related discussion that was happening within a group of my friends. I do this frequently in the hopes that they forget I work where I do, have an honest conversation, and then I can give them my two-cents at the end of the discussion. This particular chat was about panhandling, and how they respond to being asked for money on the street. One friend said that she’s always a ‘sucker’ when she’s asked for change, and will give it to the asker. Another said she will never give to the asker because she’s sure it wouldn’t go towards food or bus fare, and that it would go towards drugs and/or alcohol. I believe this to be the most common view on panhandling. A third friend stepped in with something I hadn’t heard before: “If you give them money and it goes to drugs or alcohol, you’re helping them reach rock bottom and, therefore, recovery, sooner.” I’m sure she was quoting something she’d heard elsewhere, but I'd literally never heard that before and was surprised by it.

Anyway, one question I’m often asked is

 “What do you do (personally) when someone asks you for money on the street?”

Now, I can’t tell you what you should or shouldn’t do, but I’ll tell you my own, personal thoughts on the issue.

Generally, I just say sorry and don't usually give out any change. Why? Probably partly because I’m aware of the services available in our city, all within 2km of where I’m often asked, and partly because I don’t know where the money will go - and sometimes I’m not okay with that. I’m not saying that folks who ask for it are lying to you, but there’s a chance of that. Some might just see it as survival.

Sometimes, I am okay with that. And that’s the key. Each individual needs to decide for themselves if they are or are not okay with what happens to their money after it passes from their possession. If you aren’t, you should stick to donating to an agency you trust. If you are okay with not knowing, then give away! On occasion, if my hand is in my pocket, jingling some change around, I’ll pull it out and hand it to someone. I don’t think about where my money could go, or what rock bottom could or could not be reached because of my paltry contribution. Once that money passes out of your hands, you have to truly let it go. You need to make the decision when you give them the money that you’re truly giving them the money. A gift – and, like any true gift, they receive it and are grateful, and don’t owe you anything.

And maybe, just maybe, by giving them the gift of change, you’ll be giving them … the gift of change.

How do you decide whether to give to a panhandler or not?

- Sarah
Follow Sarah on Twitter @ispeakcanadian

Clothed In Confidence

Hi, I'm Laura U. I'm an employment coach at The Mustard Seed in Calgary and this is my first time on the blog. I was assigned as Sandra’s Employment Coach a few weeks ago and met with her for the first time soon after. She sat with me in the intake room, and I asked to hear her story.

“Oh, my story is sad, sad,” she whispered. ”In my country there is too much war”.

I left it at that, sensing she would rather not go further. However, I did learn that Sandra is from Uganda and came to Calgary to find work.

“I need to find confidence to interact with people in a job”, she told me. “Can you help me find confidence?”

I told her I would try.

One of our first steps toward confidence is being taken today. We are going to Making Changes, a not-for-profit agency that outfits women with professional clothing for the workplace.

We arrive in the afternoon and Sandra’s eyes widen as she takes in the place, which is set up like a clothing boutique. Racks of clothing fill the room, one corner is stacked high with shoes, and a standing coat hanger dangles with purses. Another shelf is covered with brand-new cosmetics.

We are paired with a volunteer stylist who leaps to action, handing Sandra dress pants in eggplant and khaki. Then shirts in bright colors and soft fabrics are brought out. Sandra receives each item with stunned graciousness, her eyes full of light. She says little, but she is beaming.

Sandra steps into the dressing room, and our stylist looks at me and says, “She is wonderful.” She is awed, as I am, by Sandra. She shines.

In a world torn by war, oppression, and violence, Uganda is no exception. It would seem that the brutal reality of war would harden one’s heart. Often, however, as I and others in the Employment Centre have seen, it has the opposite effect. In some individuals, the need for God grows stronger. Sandra had told me in the car on the way to Making Changes that she prays a lot. She has to pray a lot, she says. It is a means of survival. Sandra has kept the hope planted by Christ, and it shows.

We prepare to leave Making Changes. Sandra fills out a survey, and when asked if she is now ready to enter the workplace with confidence, she checks “strongly agree”.

In the car on the way home she tells me that she has read in Scripture that God has good plans for His children. A few more times she whispers it: “Good plans”. Her confidence in God’s goodness has renewed my own. And with that, we ride back toward downtown Calgary - clothed in the confidence that comes from trusting Him.

Hacky Sack

As a relief support worker at The Mustard Seed Calgary, I work in several different departments (my job never gets boring!). One of my primary tasks involves helping facilitate our DemoCrew and CollegeCrew programs -- experiences where high school or college/university students spend multiple days and nights with us at The Mustard Seed volunteering and learning about homelessness. Our goal with these programs is to demolish the darkness and demonstrate the love of Jesus.

I was wrapping up orientation during one such CollegeCrew and asked the group to share whether they had any fears or apprehensions for the weekend ahead. One young man, whom I'll call David (not his real name), spoke up.

"I've never been good with words. What am I supposed to tell somebody whose life seems to be one bad run of events after another? I don't know how someone like me can say the right thing to help."

I told him that often, it's not the words we speak, but the most seemingly insignificant actions, that make the difference. He nodded, unconvinced, and I took the group for their first mealtime with our guests.

After supper I went to round up the students. As many wrapped up conversations with their tablemates, I looked around for David and found him leaning against the wall, intently focused on a game of hacky sack that had been started in the corner by five or six guests who I knew quite well. I approached David and stood with him.

"Do you think...do you think that maybe I could go play for a bit?" he asked me nervously.

"I think that's a great idea," I replied with a smile. "Go for it! They'd love to have you."

Cautiously, David approached the circle, where the guests enthusiastically invited him to join in. The following day, one of the guests approached me with more joy in his face than I had seen in months, asking if I could "please, please" excuse David from a group activity for a bit so they could play one more game of hacky sack together.

At the end of the weekend, David revealed that he had struggled with depression for many years, and had felt unqualified to help make anybody else's life better.

"But now," he said, "I know that it's not always about saying the right words. Maybe, sometimes, it's enough to kick a sack around with a bunch of people who I would normally have passed by on the street."

Sometimes, "helping" just might look like a game of hacky sack.

Igniting Passion, Bringing Change

This past week we’ve had the privilege of hosting a DemoCrew group from Prince Albert Alliance Church in Prince Albert, Saskatchewan. DemoCrew is an urban exposure experience that we invite youth across Alberta – and sometimes from as far as B.C. or Saskatchewan – to take part in at The Mustard Seed in both our Calgary and Edmonton locations. It is a way that we can demolish stereotypes about the urban poor and homeless communities, and demonstrate the love of God for those living in poverty. It’s one thing to recognize poverty as a reality, but it is something completely different to decide to journey alongside those whose lives are being affected by this reality. This is what DemoCrew is all about.

Some of the activities we run as part of this program are small work projects, preparing and serving a meal in our drop-in, a walk through the neighbourhood to encounter various social issues in our community, as well as the agencies that are addressing these issues, and teaching sessions that give practical direction to addressing poverty in our everyday lives.

To give you a better idea, this is what our DemoCrew week looked like…

We made bagged lunches and handed them out on the street on Family Day. We sorted through mountains of clothing at our Personal Assistance Centre, and for the first time served lunch in our drop-in. We stood in meal lines with our community members. We listened to stories over cups of coffee, and shared our own stories with the hope of building mutually respectful relationships. We shared about social justice, what it means to be a part of community, and what the world could look like if we all treated each other as neighbours – as family – instead of seeing people as strangers.

It can be a long, emotional, and exhausting week. In fact, it usually is. There are moments of heated discussion, moments of anger at the needs that seem to go unnoticed in the inner city, and there are moments when hot tears stream down cheeks in frustration accompanied by fatigue. But at the end of the week, there is always consensus that every victory and lesson learned far outweigh any trial that may have come.

As we say goodbye to the group from Prince Albert, Saskatchewan today, we pray that the passion for justice, equality, and community that was ignited in their hearts this week would not be stifled. We pray that God would give them a continually deepening love for the marginalized, for the unloved, for the forgotten. We pray that people met and stories heard would not be wiped from their minds, but that these new friendships would be what encourages each of them to continue bringing the kingdom of God to the earth.

Let us know if DemoCrew is something you might be interested in – we would love to have you!


- Kat
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You can follow Kat on Twitter at @katcardinal

A Vicious Cycle

January is a tough month for people who use the services at The Mustard Seed.  I probably would go as far as to say it is the worst month of year.  Anyone that relies on government assistance gets their January cheques a week earlier in December to allow for people to buy gifts or prep for holidays which means that by January 1^st most of the money is gone. January begins the month long wait for the next cheque.  Money is tight.

The frustrating thing about living on government assistance is that it is a hand out not always a hand up.  The average single person receives roughly $583 per month.   People on welfare may have lost their job, suffered some phsycial or mental disability or struggle with an addiction.  Can you imagine living on $583/month?  I couldn’t afford to pay my rent with that let alone buy groceries, pay utilities and have a phone.  Because of this people are constantly living from paycheck to paycheck and this begins the vicious cycle of poverty.  Lots of time is spent trying to track down the nearest food bank,  a free meal, shoes or hygiene items because they never have enough money.  How are people expected to get a job if they don’t have a safe place sleep, shower and wash their clothes?  How do you get a job if you don’t have a phone number for an employer to call you back for an interview?  Welfare is a challenging system for people to be a part of and does not always allow for opportunities for people to escape the cycle of poverty.

If you are more interested on the conversation of living on welfare you can follow MLA Jagrup Brar who has taken on the challenge of living on welfare for the month of January.  Be sure to follow this story throughout the month of January by keeping track of events and comments at http://mlaonwelfare.com/ 

The Season of Giving

Weekends are a unique time in the inner city. Most of the agencies are closed, and there is a kind of hush that seems to blanket the remaining activity. As I was leaving work one Sunday, a somewhat distraught older, aboriginal man approached me wanting to talk. We sat, side by side, our arms slightly touching, on the steps of the church looking out at the neighborhood. Sitting for a while, in silence, and then looking off into the distance he said, “I did something bad.” “You did something bad?” I echoed in reply, my mind wandering off as I imagined any number of confessions that could follow. I looked at him and waited for him to respond. It was as if he was pulling the words from deep inside, mustering the energy to give them a voice. “I gave my money to some bad people. They asked me for money and when I gave them some, they tried to take all of it from me. How can I be a Christian?” he asked, “I try so hard to love people and to give them what they want, and then they hurt me.” I could tell he had a heavy heart, and we continued to sit for a while in silence, intermittently speaking about the difficulties of being human, being a Christian, and of loving people.

In this holiday season we are often reminded of the good in the world; it is a time to remember family and friends, to enjoy big meals, and of course, to give gifts, but there is also a great deal of pain for many people. Many of the worst parts of the inner city - the violence, the addictions, the broken relationships - all seem to increase around this time. They often seem senseless until they are seen as responses to the intense pain many of our neighbors harbor, pain that is often amplified by the memories of holidays past. In listening to this man it was as if I could feel some of his pain. I share this with you because in this Christmas season, one of the invitations of the season is to love one another through the spirit of giving. My invitation to you is to consider that perhaps whenever people ask for something from us, we are to give to them; perhaps not always specifically what they are asking for, but we can always give dignity, respect, and kindness.

This Christmas Season, and throughout the year, may I always remind myself to pause and consider, “what is this person asking of me, and what am I able to give them?” Let me be reminded that not all gifts must be bought from a store and wrapped in pretty paper to be valuable, and for each person I meet, may I take the time to ask myself, “How can I love this person more?”

The Day it All Changed

Hi, I'm Karina, I'm the Executive Assistant to Jeff Dyer, our COO here at The Mustard Seed. Visiting Heritage Park drastically changed my perspective.  No, not of how much more modern our society is today compared to the past, but of people experiencing homelessness. Last year I had the opportunity of visiting Heritage Park in December with 8 of our clients and a few other volunteers.  We all loaded into the 15 passenger van and, when we arrived at the park, seemed to naturally split off into a few small tour groups. My group included Carissa*, John* and Silvia*, along with another volunteer.

I admit, before going on this outing, and before joining The Mustard Seed, I was scared of homeless people I’d see on the streets. I made the generalization that they ALL were dirty, did drugs or drank non-stop, didn’t have thoughts or feelings and enjoyed begging for change.  In short, I de-humanized them in my mind.

As we wandered through the park, I was able to talk with several of the other group members, and got to hear their perspectives and feelings about various things. Carissa, in particular, shared with me throughout the afternoon about her struggles with mental illness, but how she’s doing much better and how her relationship with God is her source of strength. After a few of such conversations, it hit me: each person experiencing homelessness has a unique story & struggles, and at the end of the day is just a human being like me. There’s nothing to be afraid of. This seems like such a small shift in thinking now, but at that time, it was a big step. 

Since that day, I’ve made it a priority to connect with the people we serve, and often the small conversations we have at lunch are a highlight of my day.  I’d encourage you to reach out and simply talk with someone you have a certain notion about or otherwise wouldn’t. This doesn’t necessarily have to be a person experiencing homelessness, but could be that seemingly unapproachable neighbour or the quiet immigrant. It just may change your perspective and generalizations, something that if we all did more often would lead to increased mutual understanding and ultimately societal change.

- Karina

See You In the Neighborhood

Last week I met a handful of families, couples and singles who have to vacate their homes by December 15. The issue is mold, and a property owner who can’t or won’t take steps to properly fix the mold. I stood in the hallways of this building for a few hours with folks from a few other agencies and knocked on doors with a health and safety representative. They gave bad news, we gave good news. As agencies we were there to help, to tell people that we can offer support over the next few weeks as they hurry to find another place to live before Christmas. I have to say, I had mixed feelings about offering this good news. I was certainly happy that we (and these other agencies) can step in to help, but I also wonder how their community can respond. Sometimes, it seems, we rely too much on a systematic response and we don’t offer a human response. When can we (as communities and individuals) step in and help someone in need?

I need to make a confession. I don’t know many of my neighbors. I live in a condominium community in the SW of Calgary; my complex is set up as stacked townhouses, which means I have quite a few neighbors. In fact my garage is surrounded by about 9 other garages. I bought my house about a year ago and the couple who lives above me has lived there for about 6 months. Last week was the first time I’ve ever spoke to the neighbor that I have been parking next to for all that time. Her name is June and she is a lovely person. I’ve been missing out on the opportunity to know her for months now, and it seems like they might just be the type of people I’d want to know when I lock myself out of my house (which has happened 3 times now…) or when I need to complain about the condo board or need to borrow sugar… although more often I run out of olive oil. And perhaps I’m just the type of person that has something to offer them as well!

For me, these two thoughts are connected because I realized that I’m not making myself available to my own neighbors. If there is a senior citizen or new Canadian across the street at risk of losing their housing merely because of a language or technology barrier (a common reality), I can help! But, alas I haven’t met them, I don’t know them and they don’t know me. So I have a challenge for myself: to start making myself available to my neighbors. After all, perhaps there is some way I can offer support and justice to my neighbor, and perhaps a neighbor has something to offer me.


Peace

Bless Your Heart

I struggled a bit with this post, wondering which was the best topic to write about today. One thing kept coming to mind though, so buckle your seat belts and grab the Gravol; you're in for a ride.

That was an outright lie, but I hope you brought refreshments again. Maybe a Powerbar or something.

I've been working at The Mustard Seed for just over 5 years now. I feel like I started here when I was 15. Working here brings with it a set of conversation topics I had never broached before my tenure here. When you're stuck in a smalltalk situation with nothing to say, mentioning that you work at The Mustard Seed always cures that immediately. Sometimes in awkward situations, and I'm always awkward, I just want to blurt out "I WORK AT THE MUSTARD SEED" in the most quiet of moments, simply because it's the fail-safe way to get people talking.

The conversations range from things like NIMBY (which I chatted about on Saturday) to what our services are, to the 10-yr plan, panhandling, bottle picking, why don't people just get jobs, how much does it cost the system for people to remain homeless etc. I also get people overwhelmed with emotion, repeating "bless your heart," as though they'd never thought people worked here and what an astonishing thing it is. Really, I want to tell them I work in an office and my heart actually isn't actually 9-sizes larger then theirs.

Anyway, the wealth of conversations I've had in the last 5 years (outside of work) is startling. My point here, with this post is - if you met someone for the first time, and asked where they work and they said The Mustard Seed, what would your next sentence be?

Our Alberta Office

Hi! I'm Sarah McKenzie and I'm the Marketing and New Media Manager for The Mustard Seed's Alberta office. I'm going to take you on a tour through our digs, so grab some refreshments and your reading glasses. First through the door is myself. Sorry there aren't pictures like this of everyone. Believe me, you don't know how sorry I am. You might have seen this face in our YouTube videos; I am responsible for managing The Mustard Seed's online presence across the province, among other things.

Across from me you'll find Georg, Allan and Peter - they run Seedworks, a company that is part of The Mustard Seed and takes much longer than a sentence to explain. Basically they employ a number of our guests, as well as seek out new housing options for us to pursue for our guests. Craig, who is just down the hall, is involved with the housing as well.

Karina (@la_canadiense on Twitter) and I share a [chalkboard painted] wall and she's the mastermind for assistant to Jeff Dyer, who you heard from yesterday. Jeff (@jeffndyer on Twitter) is our Chief Operating Officer and joined The Mustard Seed about a year and a half ago. You'll hear from him more on the blog, don't worry. Moving right along (did you bring your refreshments?), Aart Schuurman Hess is the Interim Chief Executive Officer, Interim Chief Development Officer and our Chief Administrative Officer as well. We'll just say he's a busy guy. His assistant, Joyce, definitely helps him to keep it together.

After Joyce is Irene, our in-house strategist and consultant who helps with many different projects at The Mustard Seed, and at the end of the hall, Kathleen and Janet share an office. Kathleen helps our development department with various projects, and Janet is a force to be reckoned with when it comes to research.

And there you have it! The Alberta Office is a great place to hang out, but during the summer it's been pretty quiet. How should we spruce things up? What do you do when your office is empty during the summer?

Oh, and one more thing - you can subscribe by email over there ---> on the right and get notifications in your inbox when we put up a new post. Just saying.

Working Provincially

My name is Jeff Dyer, and I'm The Mustard Seed's Chief Operating Officer. Growing up in Alberta, I never really dreamed that Calgary and Edmonton could work together. Even more difficult to imagine is the notion that if they did, the whole province would be better for it. The reality is, over two years ago, the Edmonton and Calgary Mustard Seeds joined together to create the Alberta Mustard Seed and the belief at that time was that if they worked together, they could make a more profound and lasting impact on the lives of men and women who were homeless.

At that same time, people were done with managing homelessness and wanted desperately to see an end to it. This shift created the perfect opportunity for two cities to think provincially, to pool their collective wisdom, expertise and resources to participate in this remarkable movement. The journey has been both fascinating and frustrating. Shifting the approach from managing to ending homelessness required a commitment to new thinking, shared learning, intentional listening and co-discerning strategies.

So far, the results are 300 formerly homeless individuals have found their way home; over 350 new housing units are being created; emergency relief has translated into sustainable life; hope has grown in the shadows of despair; and community has formed out of isolation and loneliness. The Mustard Seed is delivering basic services, housing and employment programs to those in need, partnering with the community to address the root causes of poverty across Alberta. These are still very early days in this One Mustard Seed and, to be candid, we still have so much to learn.

So, if you were advising our leadership team, what would you say are the keys to unify vision and strategy while remaining committed to honouring local nuances and grassroots leadership?