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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."