At OFC we intentionally enter into spaces and offer support as we all experience the impacts of homelessness. Opinions vary on the subject, but nonetheless, one question remains the same: “How many of your clients actually want housing?” It’s a fair and honest question– one that I was curious about in the beginning of my work 15 years ago. Over the years I have been gifted to be in relationships with people on the margins in a variety of communities. Sitting with people in these spaces is leading me to ask a different question.
Before I ask that question, let me attempt to answer the previous question: It’s complicated. Why? Because people, relationships, choices, freedom, family, isolation, drugs, money, gluten, and life. Ok, maybe not gluten, but you get my point. Each of us are complex individuals and I hope we are faced with that reality at least once per day– a reality that invites us toward a posture of humility. Now imagine navigating our complications without the safety of a locked door, the restful warmth of a bed, the support of others. The feelings of insecurity, isolation, and incapability get piled on top of one another and harden over time.
Next come layers of addiction, survival, legal trouble. Trauma takes many forms, and rarely, if ever, of our choosing. This person, with their many layers, can often be seen holding a cardboard sign reading, “Anything Helps.” Or maybe closer to the truth, “In Need of Human Kindness.” However, we aren’t done piling on the layers. People passing by yell, “Get a job! Get out of my town! Bum! Worthless…Worth Less.” One can quickly see there is a lot of trauma to sort through before we can begin to ask, “how many clients want housing?” Each person carries the weight of their trauma, and yet no two persons’ traumatic experiences are the same. While it may sound glib, “it’s complicated” starts to feel like an appropriate answer.
And so, I am proposing we ask a different question. It is a question that continues to motivate our work at OFC– granting us the patience, compassion, and invitation to genuinely listen to our neighbors on the margins– inviting them into the fold. Rather than placing value on whether or not a person wants housing and dismissing them accordingly, can we sit with curiosity and care to peel back the layers and continually ask, “Do people believe they deserve to be housed?” No matter what their answer is, we can work with that.