A Bias Towards Longevity
One of the weirdest things about homelessness is that the longer you are homeless, the better you are at being homeless. And many services – government, not for profit, faith-based, etc. – feed into this bias. They are generally difficult to navigate unless you have been in the system for a long time.
It seems once or twice every year (at least) some organization has an intern pulling together a guide of services for people that are homeless. It takes them months. And it may have value to the intern if they are staying in the field or are trying to figure out the array of services that exist for people that are homeless.
Want a more efficient way to do it?
Give five chronically homeless dudes a pizza and an hour and they can write out the whole thing for you. Heck, they can likely rank order each shelter, feeding program, day service, outreach program, etc. based upon their perceptions of their awesomeness. (“This shelter is three bunks out of five.”, “The breakfast program at St. Mildred’s is a solid five spoons out of five.”, “The lasagne dinner at the temple the last Wednesday of the month is two volunteer happy faces out of five.” Etc.)
How did we get to a place where there is a bias to longevity?
Much of it has to do with false promises and waiting lists. Most of the people that experience homelessness for long periods of time have been promised many things over the years that have not panned out the way initially promised. Or, the offer of service resulted in being put on a waiting list, not on actually providing service.
Waiting lists are a game of Survivor – outwit, outplay, and outlast and you too may get the pot of gold at the end of the waiting list rainbow. Meanwhile, an entire bureaucratic system has been put in place to manage the waiting list and the data associated with it. There are now staff whose sole function is to do nothing other than manage more names being added to a list.
Perhaps this is a large dollop of pessimism that is making you feel uncomfortable. That discomfort may work to our advantage of solving the problems in front of us. Imagine if we all felt a sense of urgency to appropriately prioritize and serve those with the longest homelessness and deepest needs first? Imagine if we decide to tear up our waiting lists and focus on priority lists. Consider what would happen if we could have the fortitude to distinguish between being eligibility for a service and needing a service. Furthermore, what would it be like if you/your system no longer had people with lower needs consume resources that should be reserved exclusively for those with the deepest needs?
Passive to Active: The Role of Day Services
Historically, day services of all kinds (known by names like drop-in centres, day centres, day shelters, resource lounges, open spaces, gathering spots, and so on) played the very important function of giving people that are homeless refuge during the day. This has been especially important in neighbourhoods or communities where shelters are open over night, but lack resources to stay open and serve people during the day. The day services have met a huge array of needs. Often they provide a meal or snack. In the winter they give escape from inclement weather and in the summer a respite from the heat. Bathrooms are almost always available. Many have showers or laundry facilities. It is not uncommon for there to be socio-recreational activities, and/or opportunities for people to mingle and engage. Some bring in external resources like health care, legal services, or even help filing taxes or applying for benefits.
In response to need (real or perceived) many day services have become specialized for population groups over the years, especially in larger urban centres. For example, you might find a day service specifically for unaccompanied youth, another one just for women, one for mental health consumers, another for older adults, one for people that identify as LGBTQ, and another for people that are Aboriginal. Each of these embraces a mandate relative to the population served and designs programming and staffing models accordingly.
Too often it is a passive space, even with staff and programming.
Too often it addresses symptoms of homelessness and being underused rather than solving why any person or family would need a day service in the first place.
Too often they are facilities where a person that is homeless needs to make their needs known to staff rather than staff assessing and meeting needs.
What if we re-thought day services within a continuum of support services focused on ending homelessness? What if we re-designed programming and expectations of day services to be places of active engagement focused on the quality of service and termination of the person’s houselessness, and less about the quantity of people that pass through the doors of the facility? What if we made every single one as low-barrier as possible to increase the likelihood of people using the service to have their needs met? What then?
In the northeast there is a group of advocates lobbying a mayor to have a neutral day centre space for people to have passive respite. In Texas there is a group of business people wanting a day centre to get people off the streets and in front of their stores, and into a place where they are served and not seen. In the midwest there is a judge wanting to see a day centre put into place to divert people out of his courtroom. On the west coast there is strain and desire on various political officials and faith-groups to expand and provide more funding to day services to meet the hygiene and food needs of people staying in tent cities.
All of this is meaningless and will not do a darn thing to end homelessness.
Meanwhile there are thousands of other day services in the world that see the same clientele every single day, more or less. They have the same patrons, volunteers and staff; the same menu; the same issues with their built form; the same neighbourhood issues. They will tell anecdotes of increased demands on services and the increased complexity of their client base (which is usually related to whatever street drug is making rounds in that town or whichever mental health facility is restricting access or whichever hospital is discharging people to the streets or whichever foot patrol by the cops is pushing people into their facility).
All of this is meaningless and will not do a darn thing to end homelessness.
Consider this:
As published in the American Journal of Consumer Community Psychology, Volume 32, Numbers 3-4, 305-317, in an article titled Preference Programs for Individuals Who Are Homeless and Have Psychiatric Disabilities: A Drop-In Center and a Supported Housing Program by Shinn et al, the drop in center without barriers was more successful than control programs in reducing homelessness, but after 2 years only 38% of participants had moved into housing. Meanwhile, the Housing First program had 79% in housing. Conclusion? A low barrier shelter is insufficient to increase housing access or reduce homelessness. It must be low barrier AND actively focused on housing.
In the five day service re-designs with housing focus we have been involved in the last three years, the least successful has seen more than 40% increase in housing access and retention out of the day service within six months. Achieved how? All staffing and activities are singularly focused on housing, the service is used exclusively for people that are homeless, all of the ancillary activities that used to occur within the facility are now delivered in vivo, and the work is integrated with other sheltering and outreach services.
We know of three communities (one Canadian and two American) that have greatly reduced or closed all of their day services that were passive, and in none of those communities has there been an increase in homelessness or deaths.
If we are serious about ending homelessness in every community then we need to make sure each part of the service delivery system is aligned to this aim. It is not just the job of street outreach or shelters. It is not just the job of coordinated entry. You cannot just have specialized housing workers that move around and try to house everyone out of homelessness. You must ensure every place where a person that is homeless is “touched” is locked onto ending homelessness. If we are passive then we become complicit in the increase of homelessness, the management of homelessness, and even the deaths of people that are experiencing homelessness.
Characteristics of an Exemplary Diversion Specialist
In training communities on effective diversion, a common question is, “What are the sort of characteristics you’d look for when hiring someone for that position?” It is a great question because it appreciates that the role is somewhat different from other roles that serve people experiencing homelessness or at imminent risk of losing housing. Here are some thoughts.
They should be an extraordinary problem solver who is remarkably resourceful rather than whining about a lack of resources.
Being solution-focused means the individual will work the problem to find a solution rather than waiting for someone else to find a resource or fix a system that is broken. I like to think of good Diversion Specialists as the Macgyver’s of the homeless and housing service delivery system – they find a way to make it work with what they have, even when it is not ideal.
They need to think before reacting to what is presented.
A good Diversion Specialist puts themselves on a short delay. The client says something. They take a pause, sometimes counting in their head, before responding. This avoids unnecessary conflict, feelings of interrogation, and the rapid exchange that can interfere with remaining objective.
They must remain objective and fair.
A good Diversion Specialist sees forests and trees. They see the needs of the household in front of them while also thinking of all households in similar circumstance. They see the household’s needs for resources in the context of all resources available. They are not going to circumvent the process, nor are they going to make exceptions. They build trustworthiness through the transparency of what they do.
They must focus on the problem/issues, not the emotions.
Jokingly I have remarked that the best Diversion Specialists are the ones that have no heart. Yes, a Diversion Specialist should have compassion. But then need to separate the sometimes overwhelming emotional context that the household finds themselves in from the problems that led the household to seek service in the first place. Otherwise the Specialist can cater the response to the emotional outburst instead of dealing with the real issue(s).
They must exercise direct communication and active listening.
No sugar coating or misleading referrals are found emanating from the lips of a good Diversion Specialist. They focus on facts rather than opinion or advice. They call it as it is after making sure they have understood the situation as presented.
They must focus on the future, not the past.
Nobody has a time machine – Diversion Specialists included. A good Specialist knows they cannot rewind life to prevent a particular situation or mishap from occurring. As such, they need to see exactly where things are at in the present to work with the household to prepare a course of action for the future. And when the household seems fixated on past events, they work hard to get them to focus not on “what happened” but instead on “what’s next?”.
They must have unwavering integrity of process and remain impartial to all parties that may be trying to influence the situation.
A good Diversion Specialist is supported by the system and established processes as a whole. There are no special favours for politicians or friends in other organizations or their pastor, etc. While others may try to advocate for particular favour for their household, the best Diversion Specialists ensure there are no side doors or special treatment.
They must have impeccable personal boundaries.
Whatever is happening in the life of the client, a good Diversion Specialist will know how to separate that professionally from their own life and experience so that emotions and resources on a personal level do not interfere in the process. More than once I have encountered Diversion Staff that feel sympathy instead of empathy in particular situations, only to then watch personal boundaries crumble.
They must embrace and empower self-determination.
A good Diversion Specialist works with the household seeking assistance. They do not do things to the household nor do they do things for the household. A good Diversion Specialist knows how to transparently present options for consideration by the household and empowers that household to resolve their own situation to the best of their ability, progressively engaging only when the household has demonstrated an inability to effectively engage with the resources and options provided.
They must steadfastly distinguish between want and need.
A good Diversion Specialist uses the lightest touch possible after understanding the true needs of the household. This is critical given the household can, quite honestly, approach services feeling a sense of entitlement, or wanting what their friends have received, or even getting what they were given in a previous encounter with the system. A good Diversion Specialist focuses on needs, not wants.
Change Yourself Into Something You Love
I believe in hope. I believe that we are malleable. I know so much of our time is spent thinking somehow our bodies are changeable, but our thoughts, opinions and beliefs are not. I know that if we believe the future can be different and better than the present, we can take the steps now that allow for improvement.
Changing yourself is not just about you as one person. Changing yourself also means changing your organization, your interpersonal relationships, your peers.
Learning to love myself has been over two decades in the making. I spent long periods of my life trying to be what people wanted me to be rather than being who I wanted to be. I spent endless hours critiquing just about everything about myself…my intellect, my career choices, my image, my friendships and relationships with my family, my morality, my view on social norms – and so on. Extreme self-loathing coupled with depression brought me close to the edge more than once.
My journey to wellness is anchored in the idea of changing myself into something I love. Love does not mean absence of flaws. Love does not mean perfection. Love does not mean permanent happiness. Love is authentic acceptance.
Lessons I have learned that I want to share:
If you want to love yourself, surround yourself with people that love your faults, not love you in spite of them. Loving yourself does not mean being imperfect.
Grieve the loss of the old you when you start to change. That is who you were, not who you are or are going to become.
Forgive yourself for being imperfect.
Name the changes you want to see in yourself, to yourself. Hold yourself accountable to a timeline to make movements on those choices.
You can change yourself into something you love. It does not happen overnight. And coming to love yourself often means stretches of being unhappy. Paradoxical, but true.
Only you can change yourself into something you love. No one else will do that for you. No one else knows how to make you the person you love.
Avoid arrogance and conceit. Loving yourself requires being vulnerable and open. It does not mean you are the best at anything or everything.
Be sensitive to the critiques of others. I have learned that much of what frustrates me in others are things that I know or once knew to be true in who I am – even if they way they were manifest was different.
We are all afraid of rejection. Don’t be surprised if you reject yourself too. Then deliberately – even when painful – accept yourself.
Regardless of life circumstance, traumatic events, history, we all have the ability to recover – if we allow ourselves to regain control and find meaning to what has happened. This is not always a journey completed alone. But one of the ways in which changing yourself into something you love is helpful, is the ability to find new meaning in who you are, your resiliencies, and your remarkable ability to adapt.
Changing yourself into something you love means confronting some of the harm you have done to others in the past and learning when and how to ask for forgiveness. Loving myself, I have quipped, means accepting that I am a recovering asshole.
Don’t apologize for your world view. Don’t apologize for your values and beliefs. Don’t apologize for your morals. Loving yourself is an unapologetic exercise in being who you are and need to be, not subscribing to what others try to tell you to be.
Offence is Taken, Not Given
Push envelopes. Blur the edges. Provoke. Grab people’s attention through irreverent comedy. At the most recent National Alliance to End Homelessness conference I got called “gonzo”, “brilliant but irreverent”, and “troubadour of disruption”. All in a day of work for me.
On the days when I have my A game, two things will happen: a large volume of people will go out of their way to tell me they are inspired, feel challenged, energized and ready to improve what they do; and, a small volume of people will go out of their way to tell others how much I offended them. Sometimes it was my approach. Sometimes my language. Sometimes my use of comedy to help people stay engaged. Here are examples of things over the past few months people have gone out of their way to tell me were offensive:
taking off my shoes when presenting
not wearing a suit and tie when meeting with an elected official
saying “fuck”
suggesting prisons for profit are manufacturing prisoners
outlining how ineffective AA usually is (while also making clear that if someone is in recovery using AA they should continue to do what works for them)
sharing that people involved in sex work use phrases and acronyms that is a code (and then deciphering some of those in a session on harm reduction)
checking my phone while presenting (even after indicating that people can text me questions while presenting if they didn’t want to ask aloud)
making a remark that the “heroin epidemic” is getting attention as a health crisis because white people are disproportionately impacted now
challenging the suggestion that people need income before they can be accepted into a housing first program
making a joke about cats being a poor pet choice
suggesting that if change was so easy we would all do it – including being a healthy body weight
commenting that a two dad family with a child constitutes a “family” not only when doing the Family SPDAT, but in life generally
making jokes about my own parents and upbringing
distinguishing between opinions and facts, and that people are entitled to their own opinions but not their own facts
outlining how not everyone that lives with mental illness needs to take medication
having to ask a group continually disrupting a presentation to leave the training (and to be clear, they were the ones that were offended)
outlining how moral views of sex and sexuality can differ from legal views of the same, and how that can impact service delivery
suggesting that if you are lurching from one crisis to another rather than proactive, planned service it is impossible to achieve the bigger picture outcomes
But the thing is this – I never go out to offend anyone. Why? Because offence is never given. When my values and beliefs are different than yours; when my moral compass is different than yours; when my approach to seeing an issue may be different than yours it is entirely possible someone will be offended. But that is because they took offence. I gave them nothing.
Gone Fishing
Those of you who have followed the blog for a couple years know that each year I take a week to get completely off the grid, take my kids up to Northern Ontario and do my best to latch on to a large smallmouth bass, lake trout, and/or, northern pike.
This is self-care for me. Once a year, I get to a place where I cannot look at my phone. My computer will not be with me. I will be dad. I will be brother. I will be son. I will not be President & CEO of OrgCode. I may hatch blog ideas, but not intentionally, and I sure as heck will not be writing them. I may figure out answers to complex social challenges because the struggles of bringing in a big fish took a long time, but again, it will be by accident. It is true that I live and breathe really complex social challenges on a daily basis. And I find it impossible to turn that off. But I can put myself into situations where I think about it less.
I am never going to be the guy to best teach you or your organization how to practice self-care. Of my many flaws, workaholism is one for sure. But I am trying.
See you all next week. And should you want a fish story, hit me up – there is bound to be at least one that gets away.