diverse as homeless youth themselves. O ne of
the kids at p:ear hit the streets because his
mom started selling drugs. A nother young
woman was outright abandoned. “She came
home from school one day and mom’s gone,
all the clothes are gone, everything’s gone,”
says Cartier.
There is also the all-too-familiar story of the
exemplary kid— pulling straight A’s in school,
on the chess team— who is kicked out of the
house after telling his parents he is gay.
It is not uncommon for children to become
homeless because of their sexual orientation.
The National Network of Runaway and Youth
Services has estimated that 20 percent to 40
percent of youths who become homeless each
year arc gay, lesbian or bi. Outside In, another
Portland social service agency serving homeless
youth, estimates that 30 percent of homeless
youth are gay, lesbian, bi, trans or questioning.
The denizens of p:ear seem to view sexuality
as something fluid. Later in the week, when I
ask some of the p:ear youth how many of them
identify as queer, they scoff at me as if I had just
asked how many of them drive BMWs.
“I see [sexual orientation] like socks,” says
p:ear founders Pippa Arend, Beth Bum s and
Tuesday, a pretematurally beautiful girl in a
long, pink dress. “Sometimes you pick one with
stripes, sometimes you pick one w ithout...”
“Unless something fundamental changes
Odessa, who is now 21 and has known
about the way someone feels about them
Arend, Bums and Cartier since she was 15,
selves, you can give them housing, treatment,
mulls the question before saying: “I’ve identi
jo b s...b u t it’s a revolving door,” says Cartier.
fied as homosexual. I’ve identified as trans
Though there was no model to base their
sexual. I don’t know ....” She leans over and
plan on, it took the would-be p:ear directors
asks the cute boy with the facial tattoos sitting
only six months for their idea to become a
next to her, “W hat am I ?”
reality. They pcxded their savings and added
“You’re Odessa,” he replies.
that money to $2,0 0 0 they made at a fund
“Yes, I’m Odessa. The legend continues.”
raiser for their project. P:ear came to fruition
W hen I recount the episode to Bums,
in February 2002 at an enviable location on
Southwest Alder Street and Park
whose partner is a woman, she smiles
knowingly and says the statistics on
Avenue. (W hen asked how they
sexual identity aren’t necessarily
scored such a coveted spot, Arend
replies, “We called.”)
reflective of what they see at p:ear.
“It’s more like, ‘I was this yester
day, I am this today, and I will be
this tomorrow,’ ” says Bums. She
notes that teen-agers in general
ow p:ear’s d<x>rs are open
seek out experimentation, and
to homeless youth from
also that the homeless youth com
8:30 a.m. to 2 p.m. Wednes
munity tends to be accepting of
day to Saturday. During that time, kids
W
different sexual orientations.
who are enrolled in the program
may come and go as they please
“W hat p:ear is all
and partake of as much educa
about is trying to get
tion, art and recreation as they
these kids out of a box,”
■s
wish. They come to eat; paint;
says Bums. “You are not
work on the computet; go on
just homeless. You are not
field trips to Portland Center
just queer.”
Prear’s mission is to
Visiting artist Benjamin Alexander Stage, the museum or the
beach; study for their GEDs;
create something that
Clark made this sculpture called
learn from a visiting artist; or
will help these kids alter
“Daniel” as part of his inspired by
just take refuge.
their self-perception.
p:ear exhibition
Putting Down Roots
shitty stuff to them ,” says Odessa. (Just that
morning Bums’ camera had gone missing.)
“But they’ve always accepted us back into
their lives.”
“P:ear is one of the reasons I’ve stayed in
Portland,” says Tuesday, who feels supported in
her recent endeavor to re-enter drug treatment.
“It’s nice to walk into a place that services
homeless youth and they notice if you’re sad.”
Branching Out
Joy Cartier hang with the art in their gallery
While many service programs cut kids off
after their 21st birthday (causing most home
less youth to dread becoming an adult), p:ear is
the only program that serves kids ages 15 to
23, with the stipulation that in order to con
tinue until age 23, they have to enroll before
their 21st birthday.
“O ther organizations are cool if you’re
just looking for a superficial ride until you’re
21, ” Odessa opines. “W hen you really need
something legitimate, they aren’t there for
you. ‘if you step outside our mold or have
any problems we can’t duct tape, you have
to leave.’ ”
“ ‘And wash your hands,’ ” says Adrian, who
started living in the streets a year ago after he
was laid off from his high-tech job in Chicago.
Homeless youth say they aren’t just look
ing for the most obvious help. A free bed and
some clothes are much appreciated, but
youth often place a higher premium on their
freedom of expression and identity, as well as
their autonomy.
For Tuesday, cither programs’ attempts to
empathize with racial and queer issues some
times feel stilted. “Here it’s not an issue. They
don’t have to try,” she says.
Arend echoes this sentiment by saying: “This
is a relationship-based program. We’re not fak
ing it. We’re not pretending to like these kids.”
Many o f the kids cite the feeling of un
conditional acceptance as the reason they
love p:ear. “A lot of us have done some really
he next time 1 descend on p:ear it is a
Friday. The doors are very much open
and I walk in to find the place teeming
with people. Getting someone to sit down and
talk with me is like trying to put a jacket on a
hummingbird. I manage to chat with Suzy
Kitman, a Portland artist who volunteers
every week as a mentor. She is sitting at a
long table, slyly working on an oil portrait of
some of the youth.
“You have to.be very flexible here,” Kitman
says, advising me as much as reflecting on her
experience. “It’s a very organic process.”
Professional artists like Kitman say they get
involved with p.ear to give back to their com
munity and to provide homeless kids with posi
tive, creative role models.
"You could conceivably be the most rea
sonable adult presence in their lives,” says
Kitman, who notes that making personal
connections with some of the kids is a high
light. “It happens slowly, but it’s a beautiful
thing when it does.”
As if on cue, several youth convene around
our table and begin chatting and working on
art projects of their own. Arend, Bums and
Cartier often refer to the young people as
“kids,” yet the moniker doesn’t quite fit. If life
experience counted toward being considered
adults, these kids would be thought old beyond
their years. Yet there is something childlike
about them that inspires the fierce devotion
the p:ear staff display.
One way in which homeless youth have
found to take care of themselves is to adopt
fake names. ( Many of the names used here are
not the youths’ given names.) Arend explains
that these names are a part of street culture and
are a way to create a new identity. For some
kids who have warrants out for their arrest, it is
a matter of physical protection from the law.
For others it offers emotional protection.
“Let’s say a kid’s name is Mike,” Arend says.
"He turns 15, starts doing drugs, becomes a
prostitute... he starts calling himself Shirley
Temple because he wants to protect Mike,
because Mike is good.”
NEXTAWENTURE
P ortlands A ltgrnativig S porting G ood ?
©3[f(ï]©(r
9rone =
D I S c a r te & D f -HU i K s ]
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