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About Street roots. (Portland, OR) 1998-current | View Entire Issue (Feb. 3, 2012)
Street roots Feb. 3, 2012 The emotional roller coaster begins, ends and begins again ne of the biggest obstacles moving forward is getting over my past. O One year I went to the Washington State Conference on homelessness. I was asked to go to a workshop on homeless health care. I had already signed up for another workshop, but a woman at the conference insisted that this was a very interesting one. “It was a last minute entry,” she said. When I got to the workshop I looked around. There must have been about 40 people in the room. There were health care providers, homeless service providers, homeless supporters, but no homeless people — only me. I asked the woman why I was the only homeless person there. She said she had been trying to get other homeless people to join. The workshop started and two doctors introduced themselves. Through a PowerPoint presentation of photos, they then gave a brief description of their area, telling us there were several hospitals close to each other, as well as a nearby park. The doctors noticed a problem in that most homeless people never came to the hospital until a cut or spider bite was badly infected, or until they were really, really sick. The doctors were worried and concerned about the homeless, so they got together and discussed what they could do. Their answer was to seek out the homeless and do a quick assessment of people on the streets. If the person needed hospital care, they referred them to a hospital. If the doctors could take care of the ailments on the spot, they would. The doctors even filled prescriptions for some of the homeless. Sometimes they misdiagnosed an infection and sent people to the hospital when they didn’t need to. To prevent that from happening, the doctors took pictures of the infected area and sent it to the hospital. A specialist would look at it, then send a message back if that person should come in for treatment. This worked really well, and the doctors were really proud of what they were doing. They wanted to do more, so they pooled money together and got a grant. The doctors got places to stay for the most vulnerable people. The next picture the doctors showed in their presentation was some of the Leo Rhodes is a street activist and homeless advocate. He is also a vendor and board member with Street Roots, and a regular contributor to the newspaper. homeless people they had helped get inside. Then we saw some of their living rooms and bedrooms. As we were looking at these pictures the doctors explained they had told the individuals they could get them anything they needed for their kitchen, living room, bedroom and bathroom. The doctor came across a slide of a man sitting by a window (I’ll call him Mr. Smith since I can’t remember his name) The doctor said Mr. Smith sits by this window all the time and doesn’t say a word. Always staring out the window. “We can’t figure out why he does this. Does anybody know why he does this?” I looked around and some people were shaking their heads, others were shrugging their shoulders. Nobody answered. The next photo was Mr. Smith’s living room. It was empty. The doctor said, “We promised Mr. Smith we could get him anything he needed. Yet his room is still empty. Does anybody know why?” Again, nobody answered. Next came a photo of Mr. Smith’s bedroom. All that was there were some nicely placed blankets and a makeshift pillow. The doctor told us again that they had told Mr. Smith he could have anything he wanted, a bed, a dresser, a nightstand, a lamp. But he chose to sleep like this. Again the doctor asked if anybody knew why. Nobody answered, so the doctor went to the next picture, disappointed. I quickly raised my hand. The doctor turned around surprised to see my hand up. “Yes?” he asked. I asked him to return to the first picture of Mr. Smith staring out the window. “He’s probably thinking about all his friends out on the streets,” I said. “He’s thinking about the good times and bad times, what they would be doing at that time. He probably misses them. He might Portland even feel guilty that he’s inside and his with the mentally ill and homeless. I just friends are still outside. He might even be shook my head and walked away. I tried to contemplating going back out to them.” get in touch with the doctor a few times. But The doctor then went to the living room he never answered my emails. picture. “He doesn’t want any furniture,” I Now I am inside. I have my own place. said. “Because, like I said before, he might Just like most homeless people, I’m having be thinking of going back outside and my problems. doesn’t want you guys to spend any money When I first announced that I was getting on him. You might get mad if you spend a place, everyone was happy for me. They money on him and he would ask me how I leaves, and then you felt; I would just look won’t do it for the at them, sometimes next homeless with a sad look on It wasn't just about me, It person.” People my face. Then I was about my hundreds? looked at me in started getting angry maybe thousands of disbelief. and went into a shell. “No, really,” I said. homeless friends. I mean? I The reason for this “I have friends that anger was people shared the good times and refuse to go into kept telling me how bad times? their treatment. The happy I should be. reason they refused is accomplishments? their How I should be because they said losses? and a safe, secure thinking about myself they didn’t want to and how everybody place« We shared a bond. We waste taxpayer loved me. I talked to were family. I took these money. There’s not formerly homeless stories to the decision enough housing or people, and they told shelter, and they me how happy they makers only to be trumped figured they would were to get inside. I by statistics. When I got end up back on the would listen to them Inside my heart was empty. streets doing the talk about how hard same thing.” There was a big black hole. it was for them on We looked at the the streets. last picture of Mr. When they Smith’s bedroom. finished I would tell “This might sound them I was a funny,” I said. “But some homeless people homeless advocate. So it wasn’t just about are scared of beds.” Everybody started me, it was about my hundreds, maybe laughing. “No really,” I told the room. “I’m thousands of homeless friends. I mean, I scared of beds. Why are we scared? ’Cause shared the good times and bad times, their • we fall off of them. We’re not really used to accomplishments, their losses, and a safe, sleeping on them and we fall off. I’ve fallen secure place. We shared a bond. We were family. I took these stories to the decision off. Some of my friends have even broken makers only to be trumped by statistics. their arms.” T h e d o c to r show ed a few m o re p ic tu re s, When I got inside my heart was empty. which was followed by a quick question and There was a big black hole. answer period. When the workshop was The easiest thing for me to do would be over, the doctor came to me. We talked a to give up, forget the past and move on thinking only of myself. But I’ve been little more and then exchanged e-mails. The doctor was very excited about my input. through too much. Hell, I’ve seen too many Somebody tapped the doctor on the miracles. I’ve watched what others said, shoulder. It was Bill Block, the director of “couldn’t be done” happen. Like I tell my friends, there are no words the Committee to End Homelessness in to express the accomplishments of healing King County. I heard Bill say, “Those were among the less fortunate. cute stories Leo told, but here’s the real story.” He started quoting statistics, starting c o ffe e b e a n IN T E R N A T IO N A L ® We tip our mugs to Coffee Bean International for donating coffee to Street Roots and keeping our vendors warm in the morning! Thank you! Fallen Off the Edge A new book by A r t G arcia "Fallen Off the Edge" is a chronicle of one man's experiences after returning from the Vietnam War. Told through the eyes of Street Roots columnist Art Garcia, this book celebrates the major victories born from a series of questionable choices. Art's jocular storytelling takes the reader along with him in and out of the California prison system over the course of 10 years until he found the strength and courage to pull himself up from the fall. The book is available online at www. blurb.com under searchword Art Garcia.
