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

Remember

With winter around the corner, I thought about someone I met one afternoon during The Mustard Seed’s coffee drop in. Her name is Lena. Lena is often seen at The Mustard Seed wearing her signature pink scarf with matching pink lipstick. She’s always smiling and always gracious for everything she receives at The Mustard Seed. Yet, one snowy, cold afternoon I was driving home and there was Lena – that kind soul – walking outside thinly dressed - no sweater, no coat. She was wearing summer shoes too admist that snowy weather. Tears welled up in my eyes. No one should have to be outside in the winter cold. No one should have to be alone either. But, sometimes, people do not have everything we seem to take for granted.

It’s because of people like Lena that The Mustard Seed strives to provide what it can – basic needs in the form of meals, clothing and personal items - and now housing and employment. I am very pleased that The Mustard Seed is expanding into the latter of these two areas. Often a meal is the first step to a changed life. Housing and employment takes people like Lena beyond that first step so that they don’t have to be outside when it’s -30. And, although saying that sounds a bit harsh, it’s true.

If you are ever having a bad day, please remember what you have. There are people like Lena who even smile when they have much less than we do, even when they face the harsh, cold winter. And, please, keep them in your prayers and do what you can to help us help them. Hope can only grow with the support of people like you.

The Children Who Lead Us All

It was a cold and blowy day on Street Level two weeks ago. There was a knock on the doors and the wind blew in a little boy and his dad. The little boy announced “my name is Billy and I am 7” and proudly held up 7 fingers. Billy then explained, “Yesterday was my 7th birthday. Instead of presents for me I asked all my friends to bring a gift for the Mustard Seed.” Billy then handed over $80 in $5 dollar bills and a bundle of Tim Horton’s gift cards. Last week a little boy and his parents came for a tour, and he too brought gifts for the Mustard Seed, which he had asked for instead of gifts for himself for his birthday. On Friday I did a tour for a mom and her two children, who had the afternoon off from school. The kids each explained that they had their own rooms at home and were shocked when I told them that the people who sleep in our shelter have 369 roommates in their bedroom!

The Bible says, in Matthew 18:3, “Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” Often it is easy to become bitter or negative or doubtful of the good of mankind as we watch the news or read the paper or see some of the things that go on around us. But it is important, no it is critical, that we remember that there is so much good, so much kindness and such commitment on the parts of many parents to ensure that their children truly understand not only how blessed they are but how important it is to take responsibility for our communities as a whole. This is where change begins, in the innocent and non-judgmental heart of a child who will truly lead us all.

Real People

"I want to stay because people here care about me" muttered Laura (not her real name) as she sat sobbing on the bench in the lobby. My co-worker, Joel, and I attempted to ease the pain of the reality that she would not be able to stay at our shelter any longer, due to various medical issues that we were unable to accommodate - not the least of which was her passing out mid-sentence and nearly falling to the floor on a number of occasions.  This may sound strange that someone in this state would "want" to stay at an emergency homeless shelter, but it is not an uncommon desire among many of the guests that utilize The Mustard Seed's services. 

My name is Jordan, and I work frontline at The Mustard Seed Shelter in Calgary. For someone like Laura, an elderly individual who had been on the streets for a number of years, slipping through the cracks, and being cycled through the system, living off of a very small monthly cheque from the government and picking bottles for a living, it is very easy to feel alone. Couple this with her mild personality and small figure and it made her somewhat forgettable.  With her failing body, being on over two dozen prescription medications, and her deteriorating mental health in a battle to overcome severe depression, her situation was very bleak. And as I sat there and witnessed the anguish in her face, while trying to fight my own tears of sorrow, I had once again been reminded of the humanity and unsurpassable worth of the person sitting in front of me.  This lady was not a statistic, or a number, or my "work", she was, is, a real person, who has real pain, just like me.

I no longer appreciate the term "homeless people/person", when you use the word homeless as a title to describe someone, you are attaching a very painful and traumatic experience to their identity, creating a cultural divide of "us and them".  The reality is that these are valuable, legitimate members of society who are experiencing homelessness.  Yes, many of them have made decisions that have born negative consequences and may very well have put them in the place they are in, but to strip someone of value and worth because of their social standing, or even because of the wrong decisions they have made, is a travesty, and it is often only a reflection of how insignificant we ourselves feel.  So I have decided because of Laura and others like her, I will know longer work to serve the 'homeless' but rather, I will serve real people who do not have a home. Semantics? Maybe.  But also something to think about.


Jordan T. Swaim
Overnight Support Worker

The Beauty of Vulnerability

I love working at The Mustard Seed, but sometimes after a long day, when someone approaches me to talk, I just don’t have the desire or the energy to be fully present to them. John (we’ll call him), doesn’t come to The Mustard Seed very often, but when he does we always have very awkward and strange conversations that I don’t look forward to, so when I arrived at work already exhausted one evening after a long day at school to find John, eager to chat, I have to admit I was less than thrilled. It was a busy night, the kind where the entire shift can go by without a moment’s pause. I was thankful for this because no sooner had John begun to chat, I was called away to deal with a flooded toilet and then a conflict, and on and on the list went. Whilst maneuvering through the crowded drop-in from one task to the other, John reached out and caught my attention for a moment; seated alone in the midst of the chaos of a hundred other people talking and laughing, eating, playing games, and sharing community together. John looked up at me from his seat and said, "Loneliness is terrible. Sometimes it’s nice just to be with other people, isn’t it?" I think for the first time I heard John not with my ears, but with the whole of me; in this moment of vulnerability, I really saw him there as a human being.

Author and priest Henri Nouwen said, "Community is the place where the person you least want to live with always lives." Today I am thankful for people like John, who remind me that The Mustard Seed exists because, not only is it nice to be with other people, it’s essential; it’s what we were created for. I am thankful for John because he forces me to collide head on with the true meaning of community and, through awkwardness and uncomfortable conversations, invites me to understand and practice community better.