• march 7.2003
26
The House That
Volunteers Built
H istory L esson
The face of AIDS
has changed since 1988
Continued from Page 25
by Pat Young
hen Our House of Portland
opened its doors 15 years ago,
Bud “Whoop Whoop” Clark
was the city’s mayor, the Ore
gon Citizens Alliance had
successfully passed its anti-gay Ballot Measure 8,
and George Bush (the first) was elected presi
dent with the promise of creating a kinder, gen
tler America. However, in 1988, A ID S was any
thing but kinder and gentler.
Insurance companies wanted to test appli
cants for HIV and feared they would lose money
covering the cost of A ID S care. Education was a
controversial subject. Tri-Met removed Cascade
A ID S Project posters from buses after riders
complained they promoted homosexuality. Peo
ple were being shunned. Family relationships
were tom. Fear, misunderstanding and discrimi
nation engulfed people with AIDS. They were
in desperate need of a care facility.
“Our House was an offshoot of Juniper House,”
remembers Pat Schwiebert, the first board chair
woman. “A group of us got together and planned
and dreamed and worked on it. It was something
that needed to happen in Portland.”
Juniper House was an A ID S foster care facil
ity, but when it closed, Schwiebert and others
thought they should start over and do it differ
ently. They thought they could do it better from
the perspective o f care and compassion.
“Five people got together and came forward.
They started with nothing but commitment,
and in less than six months Our House was
open,” recalls Kimberly Brown, who volun
teered at Juniper House.
The first location was at Southeast 26th
Avenue and Powell Boulevard. It had two bed
rooms upstairs and two downstairs, accommo
dating five residents. It was a wonderful house,
but the stairs presented a problem. Within a
year, Our House moved to its current location at
Southeast 28th Avenue and Alder Street, which
has 12 beds all on one floor.
The first year was a wild ride. Everyone was
still learning about A ID S and knew little about
dementia. From the beginning, the residents
had a role in how things were done, within lim
its. Thus the name “Our House.” It was going to
be a community, a family.
“It was pretty intense at times," Schwiebert
says. “It wasn’t just nice, sweet stuff. We were
W
‘IT’S ALL IN YOUR HEAD’
TRAIN YOUR BRAIN.
CHANGE YOUR LIFE.
always on the edge,
and yet there would
be these absolutely
pure, perfect mo
ments of coming
together and caring
for each other.”
One reason for
the success of Our
House is the phi
losophy surround
ing the volunteers.
“To have a suc
cessful volunteer
program, you have
to have a strong
volunteer ethic
about it being just
as valuable as the
paid staff,” says
Judith
Rizzio,
who’s been with
Our House for 14
years— the first
eight as volunteer Judith Rizzio has been with
director.
Rizzio made sure the staff and residents
respected the volunteers. She implanted an
ethic of giving back and thanking the volun
teers. She makes sure that the volunteers feel
they are an important aspect of Our House and
that their time is well spent. It’s a philosophy
that has withstood the test of time.
When Our House opened, most of the resi
dents were white gay men. Some were middle
class before AIDS took away their livelihood.
They came to Our House to spend their last days.
“Our hardest year was 1993, in which we had
63 deaths. It was so constant. It was like being in
a war zone,” Rizzio recalls. It’s still difficult for
some volunteers and staff to talk about.
“We just thought, ‘When is this going to
stop?* And then all of a sudden, the unbeliev
able magic of protease inhibitors came along
and literally gave back people life,” Rizzio says.
With A ZT came a huge change in the mind
set. Now people could live with the disease
instead of waiting to die from it.
“The whole psyche about working here
changed as well as the way we went about doing
our work,” Rizzio notes. “And it was profound.”
Our House for 14 years
But with that came new challenges. Resi
dents could get better and leave. Our House
hired a therapist to help people occupy their
time— to create activities so they could have full
and involved complex lives.
The profile of the residents also changed.
Our House began to see more street people and
people with strong addictions and some form of
mental disability. Now that residents could live
longer, staff and volunteers had to learn how to
address these issues as well as take care of their
health.
The advancement in medicine has helped
people live with AIDS, but the crisis is far from
over. It might be a different face, but the level of
illness that the people are entering and the need
for these rooms is still very real.
“Oh, I have this dream that someday I can
be the person who walks out and locks the
door behind me because we don't need it,"
Rizzio says. “ But I don’t think that is going to
happen." J R
: ' -! '
. :
■
• '■ '
'
'
'
•
PAT Y o u n g is a Portland free-lance writer and
gay and lesbian historian.
Qpive with Ppicte
their final days— especially at the moment
when they pass on. Estes, Barham and St.
M artin serve on the personal care team that
deals with those m om ents. They not only
bathe and feed those too ill to do that them
selves, but they often are called in during
the middle o f the
night when it b e
com es clear som e
one may soon die.
“You do som e
times get emotional
ly attached, and it is
hard,” Estes says. “I
deal with it...I know
that am I there to
help them, and to be
with them in their Lisa Benson
final days of their life
is an incredible experience. I always feel like I
get back more than I give.”
All of the volunteers echo that sentiment.
St. Martin notes that some residents of
Our House have absolutely no family support
and that having volunteers there in the end
helps them deal with the process. “Just having
someone there to hold your hand makes a dif
ference,” she says.
Barham adds: “ I don’t think until you’ve
actually experienced O ur House you can
describe what it’s like to volunteer there.
People say: ‘1 don ’t know how you can do
that. It would be so said. It would be so hard.’
It’s about the gifts o f life and giving and nur
turing and sharing and caring for each other.
It is a true gift when they allow you to be a
part of their life’s journey at Our House. I
leave there feeling I’ve gotten more than I’ve
given.
Bryant shares a story about a resident who
was “very difficult to me and to others" when
she first volunteered. T h at man eventually
got well enough to move out, and she left the
area for a short time to take a new job. Flow-
ever, she eventually returned to Our House,
and soon that resident became ill and moved
back into the facility.
“When Kathryn told me he was back, I
rolled my eyes to the sky and said, ‘Here we
go again,’ ’’ Bryant says. “W hat happened
next fltxired me. He told me he was sorry for
the way he treated me, and he asked me to
forgive him. I told him there was nothing to
be forgiven for.”
CW e& isides
7 have
to date lost
22 lbs and am off Zoloft.
All thanks to you.
You are a goddess ."
* - «i
-Don Clarkson Mayor (Mosier. OR)
and Personal Coach
If you are struggling with
depression, anxiety, panic
attacks, attention issues,
stress, sleep problems, mental
clarity, or are seeking a peak
performance edge contact
Nora Gedgaudas
Neurotherapist
Nutritional Specialist
Northwest Neuroteedback
Johnson Street Professional Building
1920 NW Johnson Street., Suite 100
Portland, O R 97209
Office 503-274-7733
Fax 503-274-7770
caá lo r a Ira * consultation
O ur professionals
Visit us online at:
www.reyreece.com
or schedule your appointment
h ttp /to w w northw est neoroteedbaefc com
ío
u n tt arrange
your delivery
503 256-3700
-
REY REECE DEALERSHIPS
ISUZU-VOLKSWAGEN-USED
122nd & East Burnside
www.reyreece.com
Don Duncan
owner
Teleflora
(503) 642-9992
1-800-356-1884
Aloha Market Centre
20455 SW TV Highway
www.westsideflorisf.net