The Meaning of a Picture

This is my first post about something local and I've been dying to write it for awhile now.

Shortly after coming back to Winnipeg I saw a news story about the Gifts of Grace Mission, a group that serves meals to the homeless twice a week in the hood...right up my alley! I thought why wouldn't I continue working with the homeless when I enjoy it so much? My help was quickly accepted and the following Thursday I showed up to see what it was all about.

I pulled up on North Main, parking in front of a rough hotel, and at the same time recall wondering whether that was such a good idea. But I left my car there anyway and went to find the location where the meals were served. I walked around the corner to find a cul de sac with Thunderbird House on the one side, Salvation Army on the other, and a grassy area in between.

Sitting along the wall of Salvation Army were groups of people easily identifiable as solvent abusers, as their smell is pretty unmistakeable. In the grassy area there were a couple of makeshift tents and stuff strewn all over, reminiscent of the Swan River rodeo grounds at the end of the weekend! People were milling around and it honestly felt like a world within another. Most Winnipeggers know nothing about this world. The people within it are basically invisible to "mainstream society." Most live on the streets of Winnipeg, in the shelters, or a little of both, and their day to day life is one that most of us couldn't even imagine. The word "tortured" comes to mind.

That first day was a few months ago now and I can no longer remember the intricacies of it, but I do remember loving the experience. Greeting the long line of Winnipeg's neediest and being apart of them getting a good meal felt so good. I pretty much skipped out of there I was so happy! I walked out of that world within a world, past the addicts, the mentally ill and those struggling in other ways I'm sure, past the awful smells and the rough hotel with the evening's patrons spilling out on to the street, to my safe and sound car. I already couldn't wait for next week!

Every Thursday at 5:00, a group shows up to serve dinner, each from a different church across the city. Gifts of Grace founders take turns picking up the food which I have to say is a pretty awesome spread which includes a hot casserole, sandwiches, baked goods, juice and coffee. People can line up again and again until it's all gone, and typically there's a lot so sometimes we see some people coming through 3-4 times.

One of the differences between Gifts of Grace and other soup kitchen type places, is that people can come for food even if they are under the influence. So we see all kinds of people in all kinds of states. The other difference is that most of the year we serve outside with only a table between us and the people. So it's not for the scaredy cats :)

Most nights we have 150-200 people and some nights much more. There are different groups of people who come; I would say that those with mental health issues are a good majority. I've seen women who look so "normal" that I wondered if they worked at Salvation Army or somewhere else and were just coming for a free meal. That was until one of them went off on us one night, angry at the quality of the food and saying that just because she was homeless didn't mean that she deserved shit to eat. It was very clear after that exchange that she was ill. Another young woman laughed to herself as she went through the food line one day, clearly having a conversation with someone in her head. What a horrible way to have to live.

Another group would be the hard core addicts, who often come through high or intoxicated. This week an older man fell into the table, almost colliding with me, and when he fell a bottle of mouthwash fell out of his pocket. Some of the others in line looked at him disapprovingly and mumbled about how hard core he was. I suppose that drinking mouthwash would be the bottom of the barrel for an addict, and I'm sure it's a place that nobody strives to be.

The sniffers are another visible group. You see some pushing their walkers around, or sitting on them while they huff from bags. Often they are just lying along the street, typically in a group. You can smell the solvent on them as they come through the line. It's so strong it permeates your nose.

Well shortly after starting I learned that I actually know one person from this group. As I was serving one day a woman came by that I couldn't take my eyes off of as she looked so familiar. I finally said, is your name Charlotte? (not her real name). Well when she said yes, I was shocked..

 

Early on in my child welfare career, when I was a baby social worker, maybe 24, I had a young mom on my caseload, a sniffer, whose baby I apprehended at birth for obvious reasons. I didn't work with her long as she didn't put up a fight and the baby was removed from her permanently. Thankfully we came up with a good plan for the baby to go live with his paternal grandmother which Charlotte was on board with. So even though we weren't working together under the best circumstances, we had a pretty decent working relationship.

Charlotte was in jail at the time that her son was leaving Winnipeg to go live with his grandmother and so I brought him there to see her for a goodbye visit. I'm pretty sure that this was the only visit she was able to have with him given what was going on for her at the time. Well that day I happened to take a picture of Charlotte holding her newborn son. She was in her jail uniform and was smiling down at him at she held him. Despite being a sniffer and leading a rough street life, she looked like a young and healthy woman in this picture. Well fourteen years later, this woman, now probably in her mid 30s, looked to be in her late 50s (and not a healthy looking 50 something either). She looked shrivelled, ragged and soulless. I honestly couldn't believe that she was even still alive after so many years of sniffing. I can't begin to even imagine what she has been through in that period of time.

I doubt that it registered with her who I was, but when I explained that I was involved with her son, she brightened up, telling me that he was 14 now (yikes!). I knew that I still had that picture of her and her son, as well as a picture of him at age 2 that his grandmother must have sent me. When I told her about the pictures she immediately asked if I could bring them for her, which I of course said yes to.

For 2 weeks after I carried those pictures waiting to see Charlotte again and excited to show them to her. But she never showed up. The third week I finally saw her in line, and greeted her by name which seemed to catch her off guard. I'm not sure even she remembered our previous conversation until I told her that I had pictures for her. But I told her that she was going to have to wait until I was done serving as the pictures were in my car. She seemed rather irritable that day (not unusual for solvent abusers), but still for over an hour stood and waited patiently in front of our table for her pictures.

Once we had finished I went to get the pictures from my car, and met her back in the cul de sac, sitting down with her on the curb. Looking at her closer up I saw an infection all over her skin, scars, tiny bones with only shriveled skin left, and just blankness. I honestly thought that she was so damaged from years of sniffing, that she wouldn't even have the capacity to show emotion when I showed her the pictures.

But I was wrong. I handed the pictures over and as she looked at them she smiled. And then I saw tears coming from her eyes. She said that she didn't have any pictures of her son anymore because a fire in her place had taken them. So who knows how long it had been since she had even seen his face.

I can't help but wonder if Charlotte was not only looking at her son in that picture, but looking at herself as well. Did it make her think about who she once was and how she had got to the place that she was now? I wonder if the reality of her life path saddened her in that moment; if she regretted the way she had ended up, which is a shell of a person. 

It was a touching moment, and one that made me so thankful that I used to take pictures of the children and families that I worked with. There are horror stories about foster children having no pictures of themselves growing up; no pictures of their parents, their family, or their history. No images to understand where they came from or to trigger memories. I can't imagine that and know firsthand what a picture can mean. And so in that moment I knew that seeing those pictures must have meant a lot to her.

I left Charlotte with her pictures, feeling thankful for choosing a career and a way of being that has allowed me to touch people's lives. In child welfare especially, you don't have many rewarding moments, but I can say that this experience certainly was one for me.

Sadly, a couple weeks later Charlotte told me that someone had stolen her bag and the pictures were now gone. Not a surprise given the life she has. But you know, for her to have seen, felt, and remembered, even for only a couple weeks..well it was well worth holding on to those pictures for so many years....

　

　

　

　

　

A Good News Story

I got the urge to write tonight, and for those who might be thinking uh oh, I'm not up for a hard luck story right now, don't you worry, today I am happy to say that I have some good news to share!

 

You may remember some tidbits that I wrote about Luis while I was in Guatemala...

  

Luis is another guy that I like a lot. He's in his early 20s, good looking, and you’d never think he’s homeless as he takes good care of himself. Well his story is that he is separated, not by choice, from his wife and two young daughters (2 and 3 months) who live in a town about 2.5 hours away. Apparently his mother in law kicked him out of the house in December and ever since he has been sleeping on the streets of Antigua.
 

 Luis admitted to me that he used to drink a lot and wasn’t the most stable husband and father. So the mother-in-law took matters into her own hands by the sounds of it.

 

Since being kicked out he has been in Antigua, and like Walter, earning money washing and guarding cars. When the shelter isn’t open he sleeps in the park. He talks a lot about his wife and girls and very much wants to be reunited with them. He has been drinking a lot less and trying to earn money for a home for him and his family.

 

Last month he saved 400 quetzales (about $35) and rented a house for his family in the town where he is from. But when it came time for the move, the mother-in law threatened that if the daughter left with Luis that she would take the children from her. So she stayed put, the house was rented for nothing and Luis returned to Antigua to sleep in the park.

 

After that he went back again to try and speak with his mother-in-law, to convince her that he had changed, but unfortunately she refused to talk to him. So not surprisingly he hasn’t been in the best spirits ever since. Poor guy..

 

 

Sometime later I wrote...

Luis, the young guy whose in-laws hate him, showed up last week which was great as I was thinking I wouldn't see him again. Turns out Luis, his wife and daughters were together for a month after he scrounged enough money together to rent a place. Their time together was shortlived though unfortunately as he didn't have a stable job to support them ongoing. So Luis returned to Antigua to find work while his wife and daughters returned to the in-laws' home.

 

He and I have talked a fair bit since he returned and he's clearly depressed about the situation, drinking at times to cope. He is back to sleeping on the street and to earn money, washing cars, probably the worst job to have in rainy season. And he knows it too, which must make him feel worse as things probably aren't going to get better anytime soon.

 

I ran into him the other night in the spot where he often waits to wash cars. It's killing him that he doesn't know how his family is. He can't even call his in-laws home anymore, which he says is worse than before. He just wants to know that they are all okay. He talked a lot about just wanting to move forward with his life, for things to be better. Unfortunately he has a criminal record though and because of that he can't get a decent job. So washing cars is it for now. He gets about 20 quetzales per car ($3) but again, when it's rainy all the time, most people don't want their car washed. He's thankful the shelter is open again so he can at least have a good sleep in a warm place. Besides the cold nights, he said that the "bolos" (drunks) cause problems in the park (Maria knows this all too well) which makes it hard to rest. Having to deal with bolos also makes him nervous as hr doesn't want to get into trouble with the law again.

 

Honestly, I still don't understand how homeless people manage. Talking to Luis shed some light for me though.

 

 

He has nothing with him, no possessions, no extra clothes etc. because he has nowhere to keep them. So every night that he is going to sleep on the street, he buys a fruit/vegetable sack that they sell in the market for 1Q which he covers himself with. He then throws it away the next morning. Same goes with his clothes. He buys an outfit in the used clothing shops for next to nothing, wears it until it is no longer usable and then throws it away. I never really thought about this before but I imagine a lot of the homeless do this. That's why it's even harder when it's raining, as when their one outfit gets wet, they have nothing else. I saw him again last night and he was going to be sleeping in only a t-shirt as his hoodie had got wet. And it was a cold, wet night. I felt so bad for him. To me he's really unique out of the whole group as he's a clean cut, good looking guy that you would never think lives on the street. He is clean, and the clothes that he does pick are pretty cool. You could picture him waiting tables at a nice restaurant or doing any "mainstream job" really. But unfortunately that kind of job is out of reach due to his past mistakes.

 

 

So the last 2 nights I have seen him, he was going to be sleeping in the street, on a cool, rainy night, the last time without a sweater, and probably an empty stomach. I felt so guilty walking away, off to buy food for myself, in my warm clothes, and then back to my cozy apartment, even if there is no toaster, coffeemaker, blender or corkscrew. Off to change into the clothes that I am sick of. To write and call those that I care about.

 

When I left Guatemala I left with Luis as a Facebook friend. He's the only one actually, as most of the shelter's clients probably don't even know what Facebook is. I knew that he used the internet at times, often just to kill time or stay out of the rain. Thankfully it isn't too expensive to do. I could tell after a couple months that there had been some changes in him. It looked like he had got a phone as he was posting pictures of himself, and he seemed to be in good spirits.

 

A couple days ago we were able to chat for a bit and he shared the best news! Not only did he get a job working in a church serving meals to the homeless (ironic I know), but this income plus his car washing has allowed him to rent a room for himself! For the 3 months he has been off the street :) No more sleeping in the park, dealing with the cold, rain, the police harassment, the drunks. No more having to throw out his clothes every few days and most importantly, it's a start to a new and better life. He still goes to the shelter to eat, just to make things a little easier, and has turned to the church as well. He hasn't been drinking and is focused on moving forward. I was scared to ask about his family but I did. Sadly he has had no contact with his wife and daughters for months and knows nothing about them. But once he has a few more months of stability under his belt and is even more settled and prepared, he plans to go look for them, and I'm sure, to bring them back to Antigua to live with him.
 

I'm so happy for him, and to hear of his progress. He is one person who I felt could shake being homeless and carve out a life for himself, and I think he's finally on that road :)