Image provided by: University of Oregon Libraries; Eugene, OR
About Smoke signals. (Grand Ronde, Or.) 19??-current | View Entire Issue (Nov. 1, 1998)
2 News Smoke Signals Homeless but not Tribeless: :. Homeless members face many obstacles on the road to self-sufficiency but perhaps their best asset is belonging to the Grand Ronde Tribe By Oscar Johnson, Staff Reporter Less than a decade ago 47-year-old Grand Ronde tribal member, John Simmons, had what appeared to be a bright future. After earning a degree in television and radio broadcasting and moving from Washing ton state to be closer to his Tribe in Oregon, he says it was not long before he got the job of his dreams as a sports announcer for a Warm Springs radio station. But after six months he says the mistake of having just a couple of drinks before work cost him his job and things took a turn for the worse. A turn that lead to a life of homelessness for the next eight years. "It was such a blow," recalls Simmons. "Something inside me just snapped." In 1990 he hopped a bus from Warm Springs which dropped him off on downtown Portland's Burnside Street. It was seven months before he found another, place to call home. Thanks to recent efforts, those lucky enough to belong to a tribe with growing social service programs such as Grand Ronde, many now find a way out of the cracks of society that they once fell through. But their jour ney is a long uphill struggle that of ten requires a person to 'pull them selves up by the bootstraps' when, in fact, they have no boots. Frustrating contradictions such as potential employers requiring home addresses from applicants who need work before renting a home; manda tory rental deposits and fees which force would-be tenants to choose be tween the streets or pricy weekly ho tel rates; and social programs with temporary band-aid services for the chronically needy that deny those on the threshold of self-sufficiency of ten deter and discourage the bootless. No different than those who have homes, homeless people have their share of personal problems. It could be physical or mental illnesses; pov erty; family problems; difficulty with the law; drug or alcohol addiction; a combination thereof; or none of these. But, more often than not it is their homelessness that prevents them from effectively dealing with these other issues. Shortly after Simmons joined the Native American Rehabilitation Association's drug and alcohol treat ment program in 1991 he was able to get housing for the next four years through the Housing Authority of Portland (HAP). He says he was able to sidestep a mile-long waiting list only because of a medical condition he has. He continued his treatment at the Tribe's Portland Outreach office in believes it would be in the best inter est of the Tribe to provide secure housing for such members so they can focus on overcoming obstacles and gaining the job skills and stabil ity necessary to be self-sufficient. She 2D 1994 but two years later, from 1996 through 1997, he says "I was mostly homeless, living on the streets." It is a hard life that few, if any, would voluntarily choose and even fewer understand or sympathize with. For those ljke Simmons it can be dou bly hard. "If you're homeless and living on the streets and of ethnic origin es pecially black or Native American the police hassle you," says Simmons. But the only thing harder than liv ing on the streets can often be trying to live somewhere else. "Usually (potential landlords) look at you like something is wrong with you because you're on the streets, like you're an alcoholic or something. They just stereotype you," he says. "It's not hard to find housing for families, it's single people like me that run into a lot of difficulty." Simmons' homeless experience is not unique, not even for other Grand Ronde tribal members. Although it cannot be assumed the 297 members that the Tribe's enrollment office has no addresses for are homeless, Vo cational Employment Experience Pro gram (VEEP) Coordinator, Tracie Meyer, says all seven of the clients she works with at the Portland Out reach office have been homeless in recent years. And like Simmons, who is currently living with his son while awaiting HAP housing, she says many only have temporary homes. "Many of my clients have residents but most are one step away from homelessness," says Meyer. "It to tally impacts their program because they can't focus on job skills and placement if they're worried about making rent and paying utilities." Meyers, a tribal member herself, understands concerns about the cost and viability of such a project but believes it is an investment that would pay off in the long-run. "We're talking about 30 to 50-year-olds, we're talking about children," insists Meyer. "If parents can get back on their feet we won't have this problem the next generation." In the case of tribal members Juanita Schlappie and her 27-year-old son, James, the legacy of homelessness may indeed be getting past from one generation to the next. Juanita Schlappie says she was evicted three years ago from her southeast Portland apartment because she could not afford a $100 rent hike. Since then she has spent a few weeks living in her car and most of the time living in hotels for as much as $190 a week because deposits and rent ref erences are not required. "I'm not able to save money right now," she says. "I'm lucky I'm not living under the bridge." Until housing assistance recently came through, Juanita's son, James Schlappie, who has a throat condi tion which requires bi-monthly sur geries costing $2,600 each, and his fiancee lived in a $165 a week hotel room for five weeks. His fiancee, Regina, who is also a tribal member, is eight months pregnant. . James Schlappie appreciates the help he has gotten over the years from the Tribe in the form of emergency and general assistance as well as in surance and other funds that some times pay to have the recurring growths surgically removed from his throat. Although shortness of breath and recovery time needed after each surgery make it difficult to get and hold the kind of labor job he quali fies for, the bright and energetic VEEP student now looks forward to someday securing a steady work his tory and a career. In seeking assistance from local, tribal and state agencies, he says he often gets frustrated with what sometimes seems to be a bureaucratic maze. He says it took weeks of per sistent phone calls to tribal agencies to get help. He fi nally received a generous package providing first and last month's deposits as well as 70 percent of two month's rent for an apart ment. But the expecting fa ther was first required to ex haust his member benefits on inflated hotel rates which put him back to square-one. "At the time I was (first) in need I still had a place," says a dismayed James Schlappie. "I don't think we should have ended up in this situation. "Sometimes it makes me feel like I don't want to try anymore," he added. But thanks to the Tribe's much needed satellite programs and their staff, members like James Schlappie are still trying. While many insist, perhaps some would argue naively, that state and tribal agencies should do away , with bureaucratic proce dures and requirements, most also ex press appreciation and offer support ive suggestions. Simmons, who now anticipates pur suing his dream career as a broad cast announcer through VEEP, be lieves there is a network of services for the homeless in Oregon's largest city and members could be better served if tribal programs were plugged into them. He also sees a need for more tribal members to be come drug and alcohol counselors but says most of all he would just like to see more members. "There's kind of a distinction be tween tribal members in Portland and those who live there in Grand Ronde where resources are available," says Simmons. "I think they need to take more of an interest in members up here not just the homeless, but get more involved." Echoing Simmons, perhaps James Schlappie 's suggestion is best ex pressed in his thanks to those Grand Ronde members and staff who have simply, "taken the time to listen." "So many people say they will lis ten," he added, "but they never take the time to do it."
