Hello friends and loved ones. So, not surprisingly, my movements have not gone as planned. I went to Hope City, an inner-city outreach on Friday night, expecting to talk to people there and move on to Montgomery, Alabama on Saturday. Saturday came and went with me still in Kansas City, and finishing up an interview with the next person I'm profiling, Ezekiel. I plan on posting a brief overview of Hope City tomorrow, and depending on how long it takes me to sift through the audio interviews, post my profile of Ezekiel tomorrow or Tuesday. In other words, I haven't forgotten about this blog! Much has gotten in the way, including faulty internet connection - which I pray is a result of the coffee shop's wi-fi and not my computer's fault. Prayers for guidance and wisdom are appreciated, as are donations if you feel led to give. Thanks everyone!
Love,
Dylan
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Terris - my Portland friend
Terris Harned, 32, is from Portland, Oregon, and he could be mistaken for someone who lives inside. He's educated and eloquent. He's not addicted to any drugs or alcohol. He doesn't smell, nor are his clothes dirty or ratty. He has a long-term goal for his future. In other words, he doesn't have any qualities of, what most middle or upper-class people would consider, the stereotypical "homeless person," yet he has been sleeping outside, off and on, for the past eight years.
He began to sleep outside, he says, "after moving to Illinois with a gal, and six days later we broke up. That was my first experience with homelessness." While this might seem like a trite reason to give up on finding a place to stay, Terris' relational difficulties actually began much earlier in life. His parents got divorced when he was eighteen months old, and when each parent got re-married and had more children, he began to be tossed around between parents. "After my siblings started to come along, I never felt like I was part of any family. I always felt like I was the third wheel on both sides... just 'that guy' that was thrown around." His father invited Terris to come stay with him "because he told me he couldn't afford to pay child support, as opposed to 'I love you. I want you around.'" This back-and-forth between parents was common for Terris until, at age seventeen, his mother died unexpectedly from three brain tumors and lung cancer. He was staying with his mother when she died and "it was like having the rug pulled out from under me... she was undergoing radiation and chemotherapy at the same time and I had to watch my mom waste away right in front of me." After her death, Terris' bi-polar tendencies came out in earnest. He became completely despondent and began to use pot to numb the emotional pain he was feeling. While Terris did quit smoking after a couple years, he understands why people living on the streets would use drugs and alcohol. "They just don't want to feel anything anymore. Since all they feel is pain, they're trying to anaesthetize their soul in a lot of ways."
He currently sells and occasionally writes for Street Roots, a paper sold predominantly by the homeless in Portland. "[Street Roots] is called non-barrier employment, which means anyone can walk through the door. The sellers go through orientation, then Street Roots gives them ten papers to get them started." The papers are priced at one dollar, but many people will donate five, ten or even twenty dollars per paper. The papers are produced for a quarter a piece, so the seller buys the initial load of papers and keeps whatever profits they get. "It's kind of like being a... private contractor. You have a lot of liberty as far as choosing your hours, your location, and whatever else." For him and for others who are homeless, Terris says, Street Roots helps people maintain a sense of dignity and self-respect. Instead of simply panhandling for money, "you're offering something and not just asking for handouts."
One community outreach that's helped him realize his self-worth is Home PDX and Ken Loyd, the man behind Home PDX. Terris explains how Ken Loyd never says goodbye to anyone, he says 'I love you.' "If you hear that enough, you start to believe it. If someone else believes that you're worthy of love, you think maybe I should start loving myself.... If you just say to someone you're a good person as you are, then it makes you want to start doing more for yourself, as opposed to doing it for someone else. You try and please other people, you feel like you're living up to an expectation, but if you do it for yourself, you only have to live up to the expectation you set for yourself."
Currently, Terris' plan is to start renting out a room from a friend by the end of April and he's hoping to go to school for psychology and eco-psychology, but his ultimate long-term goal is to open up a holistic drug/alcohol rehab center. He says, "People living inside say that homeless people need to stop abusing themselves, but they never ask why they started." Terris wants to talk with people, ask them why they have their problems, get down to the root of their issues, and then provide them with the tools to help themselves out of their ruts. He admits, "Even for myself, I lack a lot of coping mechanisms, I lack a lot of tools." He recently got approved by the state of Oregon to receive therapy for his bi-polar disorder, something which he admits he needs. For his rehab center, however, he wants to move the homeless away from the city and its temptations. He wants to have an organic farm in the wilderness with his program, so the people can "work the soil and, within the course of a year, plant, tend, and harvest their crop and, at the end of the cycle, they would be eating what they helped produce. That's going to instill a sense of self-confidence and accomplishment, and the ability to say, 'Wow, I did that.'" Like with Home PDX, Terris wants to build a sense of community with a group of people who desire the same goals, which are to get clean and to get out of their current lifestyle. He cautions that he won't try and force anyone to stay in the program. In theory, he says, "I would ask for a month from people, have them talk to me, and then give them a choice: you can stay or you can go back to what you were doing, but... I think you're better than that. You're a valuable person."
In the meantime, Terris is going to work towards his long-term goals and continue his current homeless advocacy. For most people sleeping on the streets, the concept of long or short-term "goals" is foreign. Sleeping outside for long periods of time produces what Terris calls a "social lobotomy," in which you stop thinking about the future because you're only thinking of today. The most common needs for the homeless and those experiencing poverty are a sense of love and purpose. Living on the street, he says, "you can eat, theoretically you can sleep... it's the social needs that aren't being met." He recommends that the next time one passes a homeless person, whether they're just looking depressed or even drinking, "... just stop and talk to them. Don't be afraid of them. You can acknowledge that person as a person experiencing poverty, as opposed to thinking of them as 'just' a poor person or homeless or an addict. Just stop and say, 'What's your story, man?' Just by giving them a little bit of attention, giving them that sense of... someone wants to know," as opposed to shying away and hiding from them. He promises, "You will make their day."
He began to sleep outside, he says, "after moving to Illinois with a gal, and six days later we broke up. That was my first experience with homelessness." While this might seem like a trite reason to give up on finding a place to stay, Terris' relational difficulties actually began much earlier in life. His parents got divorced when he was eighteen months old, and when each parent got re-married and had more children, he began to be tossed around between parents. "After my siblings started to come along, I never felt like I was part of any family. I always felt like I was the third wheel on both sides... just 'that guy' that was thrown around." His father invited Terris to come stay with him "because he told me he couldn't afford to pay child support, as opposed to 'I love you. I want you around.'" This back-and-forth between parents was common for Terris until, at age seventeen, his mother died unexpectedly from three brain tumors and lung cancer. He was staying with his mother when she died and "it was like having the rug pulled out from under me... she was undergoing radiation and chemotherapy at the same time and I had to watch my mom waste away right in front of me." After her death, Terris' bi-polar tendencies came out in earnest. He became completely despondent and began to use pot to numb the emotional pain he was feeling. While Terris did quit smoking after a couple years, he understands why people living on the streets would use drugs and alcohol. "They just don't want to feel anything anymore. Since all they feel is pain, they're trying to anaesthetize their soul in a lot of ways."
He currently sells and occasionally writes for Street Roots, a paper sold predominantly by the homeless in Portland. "[Street Roots] is called non-barrier employment, which means anyone can walk through the door. The sellers go through orientation, then Street Roots gives them ten papers to get them started." The papers are priced at one dollar, but many people will donate five, ten or even twenty dollars per paper. The papers are produced for a quarter a piece, so the seller buys the initial load of papers and keeps whatever profits they get. "It's kind of like being a... private contractor. You have a lot of liberty as far as choosing your hours, your location, and whatever else." For him and for others who are homeless, Terris says, Street Roots helps people maintain a sense of dignity and self-respect. Instead of simply panhandling for money, "you're offering something and not just asking for handouts."
One community outreach that's helped him realize his self-worth is Home PDX and Ken Loyd, the man behind Home PDX. Terris explains how Ken Loyd never says goodbye to anyone, he says 'I love you.' "If you hear that enough, you start to believe it. If someone else believes that you're worthy of love, you think maybe I should start loving myself.... If you just say to someone you're a good person as you are, then it makes you want to start doing more for yourself, as opposed to doing it for someone else. You try and please other people, you feel like you're living up to an expectation, but if you do it for yourself, you only have to live up to the expectation you set for yourself."
Currently, Terris' plan is to start renting out a room from a friend by the end of April and he's hoping to go to school for psychology and eco-psychology, but his ultimate long-term goal is to open up a holistic drug/alcohol rehab center. He says, "People living inside say that homeless people need to stop abusing themselves, but they never ask why they started." Terris wants to talk with people, ask them why they have their problems, get down to the root of their issues, and then provide them with the tools to help themselves out of their ruts. He admits, "Even for myself, I lack a lot of coping mechanisms, I lack a lot of tools." He recently got approved by the state of Oregon to receive therapy for his bi-polar disorder, something which he admits he needs. For his rehab center, however, he wants to move the homeless away from the city and its temptations. He wants to have an organic farm in the wilderness with his program, so the people can "work the soil and, within the course of a year, plant, tend, and harvest their crop and, at the end of the cycle, they would be eating what they helped produce. That's going to instill a sense of self-confidence and accomplishment, and the ability to say, 'Wow, I did that.'" Like with Home PDX, Terris wants to build a sense of community with a group of people who desire the same goals, which are to get clean and to get out of their current lifestyle. He cautions that he won't try and force anyone to stay in the program. In theory, he says, "I would ask for a month from people, have them talk to me, and then give them a choice: you can stay or you can go back to what you were doing, but... I think you're better than that. You're a valuable person."
In the meantime, Terris is going to work towards his long-term goals and continue his current homeless advocacy. For most people sleeping on the streets, the concept of long or short-term "goals" is foreign. Sleeping outside for long periods of time produces what Terris calls a "social lobotomy," in which you stop thinking about the future because you're only thinking of today. The most common needs for the homeless and those experiencing poverty are a sense of love and purpose. Living on the street, he says, "you can eat, theoretically you can sleep... it's the social needs that aren't being met." He recommends that the next time one passes a homeless person, whether they're just looking depressed or even drinking, "... just stop and talk to them. Don't be afraid of them. You can acknowledge that person as a person experiencing poverty, as opposed to thinking of them as 'just' a poor person or homeless or an addict. Just stop and say, 'What's your story, man?' Just by giving them a little bit of attention, giving them that sense of... someone wants to know," as opposed to shying away and hiding from them. He promises, "You will make their day."
Monday, April 11, 2011
Portland - in brief
Hello friends. I'm tired and confused and already homesick, but I felt the need to post something today. It won't be the most well-constructed blog post, but I hope it will bless you, regardless.
To say that today didn't go how I expected is putting it lightly. Those who have read my first entry know what I want to do: get the story (or stories) of people experiencing poverty, then, with the people's permission, take their pictures. It's not a difficult task, per say, but I understand that the Lord needs to give me favor in their eyes because I'm entering their culture as a complete foreigner.
Here's what I knew coming in to today: I was going to a sort-of, kind-of church called Home PDX in downtown Portland. They feed those living on the streets, provide them with basic needs like a clean pair of socks or some deodorant, and most importantly, they try and provide a sense of love and community to those who may have forgotten what it's like to be a part of anything. So I knew all that going in, but once I arrived, I was wonderfully stunned: there was a three-minute mini-sermon, no worship, and only a prayer blessing the meal, but it felt like Jesus would have been right at home there. Ken, the leader of Home PDX, and his wonderful crew who call themselves "Team America" (yes, after the movie) really bless the homeless community by providing this service. For about three hours, I watched as about 100+ people from the streets sit with one another, talking, laughing, and fellowshiping. There was no animosity or hatred among them. I can't say there was complete and total agape Christian love, either, but it seemed to be understood among them that Home PDX is a special place, and the people who run it, special people. What's more, Team America views those living on the streets as beautiful people, loved by God. The Team doesn't think of themselves as better or worse: they believe that everyone is loved by God the same, and so, sharing that love is essential. I didn't exactly feel in my element while I was there, but I'm certainly glad to have witnessed it.
I'm sad and disappointed that I didn't ask for permission to take pictures. From what I found out from Terris the following day, I wouldn't have been allowed to anyway, but I could have at least asked. Nevertheless, I'd like to give a feel for the location of Home PDX. They meet in downtown Portland in the basement of another church, Grace Bible Church. From the outside, the GBC building looks antique, but solidly built. (look up picture of GBC on Google). If I'm remembering correctly, I believe I saw a placard on the front of the church that read 1911. While the outside seemed timeless and well-constructed, the basement certainly looked like a dingy church basement from that venerable decade, the Seventies. Off-white paint rang true on the walls, along with your typical blue-grey stapled carpeting and fluorescent lighting. The homeless sat at circular cafteria-style tables in the middle of the basement, and when those tables were filled, chairs were placed on the outskirts. It was a tight squeeze, to be sure, but as I stated before, the atmosphere was inviting and safe, not claustrophobic.
So did I talk with any folk from the street? No, actually. For whatever reason – timing, busyness, etc. - I was never introduced to anyone. I would have been more bummed, if I wasn't busy making friends with a man named Ryan. I'm not sure what caused him to approach me, but I genuinely loved talking to him. I believe he was doing some form of internship at Home PDX for his master's degree in theological studies, but I can't exactly say why he was there.At his core, he's a soft-spoken, kind-hearted man, just trying to support his family and make an impact on the community. He's married, has a three-week old child, and a large amount of student debt. He's like any of us, filled with internal struggle about what direction his life will go. His time is mostly taken up with school and family. While he has a place to rest his head, he's far from well-off. Despite him not being the person I expected to talk with, I definitely feel like meeting with him was a divine appointment. In my life, I've found that if I hit it off with people on the first meeting, then God is definitely behind it. I hope to see him again, and Ryan, if you're reading this and you see any wrong information that I've disclosed, please let me know!
Tomorrow, I'm going to talk with a man who's living on the street, and then leave to go to Kansas City, Missouri by Greyhound. I'm not exactly sure what I'll find there, but I definitely feel God's leading. Thanks to those of you who have already donated! It means so much to me during this time of uncertainty.
Expect more frequent, detailed blog posts as time goes on. I'm still learning, so bear with me! Also, if anyone has any suggestions about how to improve this blog, feel free.
Cheers,
Dylan
To say that today didn't go how I expected is putting it lightly. Those who have read my first entry know what I want to do: get the story (or stories) of people experiencing poverty, then, with the people's permission, take their pictures. It's not a difficult task, per say, but I understand that the Lord needs to give me favor in their eyes because I'm entering their culture as a complete foreigner.
Here's what I knew coming in to today: I was going to a sort-of, kind-of church called Home PDX in downtown Portland. They feed those living on the streets, provide them with basic needs like a clean pair of socks or some deodorant, and most importantly, they try and provide a sense of love and community to those who may have forgotten what it's like to be a part of anything. So I knew all that going in, but once I arrived, I was wonderfully stunned: there was a three-minute mini-sermon, no worship, and only a prayer blessing the meal, but it felt like Jesus would have been right at home there. Ken, the leader of Home PDX, and his wonderful crew who call themselves "Team America" (yes, after the movie) really bless the homeless community by providing this service. For about three hours, I watched as about 100+ people from the streets sit with one another, talking, laughing, and fellowshiping. There was no animosity or hatred among them. I can't say there was complete and total agape Christian love, either, but it seemed to be understood among them that Home PDX is a special place, and the people who run it, special people. What's more, Team America views those living on the streets as beautiful people, loved by God. The Team doesn't think of themselves as better or worse: they believe that everyone is loved by God the same, and so, sharing that love is essential. I didn't exactly feel in my element while I was there, but I'm certainly glad to have witnessed it.
I'm sad and disappointed that I didn't ask for permission to take pictures. From what I found out from Terris the following day, I wouldn't have been allowed to anyway, but I could have at least asked. Nevertheless, I'd like to give a feel for the location of Home PDX. They meet in downtown Portland in the basement of another church, Grace Bible Church. From the outside, the GBC building looks antique, but solidly built. (look up picture of GBC on Google). If I'm remembering correctly, I believe I saw a placard on the front of the church that read 1911. While the outside seemed timeless and well-constructed, the basement certainly looked like a dingy church basement from that venerable decade, the Seventies. Off-white paint rang true on the walls, along with your typical blue-grey stapled carpeting and fluorescent lighting. The homeless sat at circular cafteria-style tables in the middle of the basement, and when those tables were filled, chairs were placed on the outskirts. It was a tight squeeze, to be sure, but as I stated before, the atmosphere was inviting and safe, not claustrophobic.
So did I talk with any folk from the street? No, actually. For whatever reason – timing, busyness, etc. - I was never introduced to anyone. I would have been more bummed, if I wasn't busy making friends with a man named Ryan. I'm not sure what caused him to approach me, but I genuinely loved talking to him. I believe he was doing some form of internship at Home PDX for his master's degree in theological studies, but I can't exactly say why he was there.At his core, he's a soft-spoken, kind-hearted man, just trying to support his family and make an impact on the community. He's married, has a three-week old child, and a large amount of student debt. He's like any of us, filled with internal struggle about what direction his life will go. His time is mostly taken up with school and family. While he has a place to rest his head, he's far from well-off. Despite him not being the person I expected to talk with, I definitely feel like meeting with him was a divine appointment. In my life, I've found that if I hit it off with people on the first meeting, then God is definitely behind it. I hope to see him again, and Ryan, if you're reading this and you see any wrong information that I've disclosed, please let me know!
Tomorrow, I'm going to talk with a man who's living on the street, and then leave to go to Kansas City, Missouri by Greyhound. I'm not exactly sure what I'll find there, but I definitely feel God's leading. Thanks to those of you who have already donated! It means so much to me during this time of uncertainty.
Expect more frequent, detailed blog posts as time goes on. I'm still learning, so bear with me! Also, if anyone has any suggestions about how to improve this blog, feel free.
Cheers,
Dylan
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
The Beginning
Hello friends, well-wishers, and passers-by. My name is Dylan and I'm hard-wired to write about any and all events that come into my life. Whether I write within the context of a story or as an actual witness depends on the event, but generally, my goal as a writer is to better understand myself and the many different people that live in our world. Earlier this year, at the end of February, I felt God calling me to go across the country and document those experiencing poverty within America. Specifically, I feel led to talk with them, get their life stories, take their pictures (with permission, of course), and compile it all into a book. This blog will be the genesis of the book and will document all of the day's triumphs and struggles. One can expect writings, babblings, pictures, video (hopefully), and all around interesting stuff from this blog.
Truthfully, I don't know what to expect from my experiences because I am not the typical person to do this. I'm not very outgoing, and I certainly don't approach random people simply to talk with them. I don't typically take large leaps of faith, hoping that God will provide every step of the way. I have no car, very little money, and only a fraction of an idea as to how I will reach my many destinations. I've been raised in the school of Western thinking, which says, "Have a plan and stick to it." I enjoy having a plan, frankly, but in this situation, God's saying, "Here's your plan: stick to Me." Thankfully, while I am scared and excited and confused as to why God would choose me for this, I trust Him to provide for me more than I would ever trust the world.
While I am approaching this project as a Christian called by God, I don't want to limit my audience. Whether or not you, the reader, believe that a person can even be called by God is not the point. Regardless of one's faith, I believe that Americans need to be reminded that there are people in this country that deserve better. My goal is to complete a book that treats the poverty-stricken of America as human beings who deserve dignity and respect. Whether or not those experiencing poverty want help is their choice, of course, and I am aware that some of them do not seek the help we might like to give them. There are just as many, however, who are looking for a way out of poverty and sleeping outside. Since those who desire release from poverty are usually lumped in with those who are content, the former's voices generally go unheard and theirs' are the voices I'd like to bring to the limelight.
Despite what the last paragraph may imply, I am not a preachy person. To me, there's nothing more vile than a person trying to preach the love of Jesus Christ with a battering ram. Likewise, I want to present people as people, not simple charity cases. I'm sure that, as I discover ways one can help these people out of poverty – whether through giving money or otherwise - I will present them in this blog and in my book. I believe, however, we should all give as we feel led, regardless of religious beliefs. When I go to write this book, my last desire is to produce a feeling of judgment in anyone. I want people to feel moved, not assaulted.
For those who believe in the power of Godly prayer, please keep me and my wife, Carissa (who is sadly not going with me) in your prayers. I have faith that God will provide, but I also know that if I'm doing what He wants, I will face opposition from the spiritual realm. I have included a link to a Paypal account if you wish to donate financially to this endeavor, but this is the first and last time I will actually mention it... probably.
Thank you for reading this. I look forward to having less-calculated blog entries, and more raw from-the-frontlines material in the coming days!
Truthfully, I don't know what to expect from my experiences because I am not the typical person to do this. I'm not very outgoing, and I certainly don't approach random people simply to talk with them. I don't typically take large leaps of faith, hoping that God will provide every step of the way. I have no car, very little money, and only a fraction of an idea as to how I will reach my many destinations. I've been raised in the school of Western thinking, which says, "Have a plan and stick to it." I enjoy having a plan, frankly, but in this situation, God's saying, "Here's your plan: stick to Me." Thankfully, while I am scared and excited and confused as to why God would choose me for this, I trust Him to provide for me more than I would ever trust the world.
While I am approaching this project as a Christian called by God, I don't want to limit my audience. Whether or not you, the reader, believe that a person can even be called by God is not the point. Regardless of one's faith, I believe that Americans need to be reminded that there are people in this country that deserve better. My goal is to complete a book that treats the poverty-stricken of America as human beings who deserve dignity and respect. Whether or not those experiencing poverty want help is their choice, of course, and I am aware that some of them do not seek the help we might like to give them. There are just as many, however, who are looking for a way out of poverty and sleeping outside. Since those who desire release from poverty are usually lumped in with those who are content, the former's voices generally go unheard and theirs' are the voices I'd like to bring to the limelight.
Despite what the last paragraph may imply, I am not a preachy person. To me, there's nothing more vile than a person trying to preach the love of Jesus Christ with a battering ram. Likewise, I want to present people as people, not simple charity cases. I'm sure that, as I discover ways one can help these people out of poverty – whether through giving money or otherwise - I will present them in this blog and in my book. I believe, however, we should all give as we feel led, regardless of religious beliefs. When I go to write this book, my last desire is to produce a feeling of judgment in anyone. I want people to feel moved, not assaulted.
For those who believe in the power of Godly prayer, please keep me and my wife, Carissa (who is sadly not going with me) in your prayers. I have faith that God will provide, but I also know that if I'm doing what He wants, I will face opposition from the spiritual realm. I have included a link to a Paypal account if you wish to donate financially to this endeavor, but this is the first and last time I will actually mention it... probably.
Thank you for reading this. I look forward to having less-calculated blog entries, and more raw from-the-frontlines material in the coming days!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)