PORTRAITS OF THE HOMELESS IN SEATTLE - a tent city gallery

   

Photo by Terry Rogers

The series of black and white photos, anonymous portraits, held my gaze because of their sensitivity and intimacy. The work of Dr. Terry Rogers of Shoreline, Washington, they reminded me of images seen in Life magazine or National Geographic. Expressive eyes of total strangers connected with mine. Their faces seem oddly familiar, because they could belong to co-workers, friends, family members, or neighbors. As fellow humans, they were not so different from me, except for one thing. Every one of them is homeless.

Many of us lucky enough to live in better circumstances, at least for now, quickly assume most homeless people are criminals, drug addicts, drunks, or mentally ill. Certainly some are (as are some people who live in houses). But negative stereotypes make life as as a homeless person even more difficult for all the other who are not. I think of the young married couple I met who spent all there money to come to Seattle for promised jobs that did not materialize. Consider the family that could not pay their rent, the mother with children escaping domestic violence, the teenager who ran away for good reason, the old man, the veteran whose life fell apart, the sick and disabled without help. Yet they are, for the most part, treated as invisible human beings. Many people avoid eye contact or cross the street rather than to have any conversation. Automatic condemnation helps to justify a lack of caring or assistance.

Photo by Terry Rogers

Rogers, a retired Seattle area specialist in pulmonary disease and critical care medicine, is a member of Saint Dunstan’s Episcopal Church in Shoreline, one of many Northwest churches effectively helping the homeless. When Saint Dunstan’s hosted a “tent city,” Rogers had the opportunity to meet some of the camp’s residents. I asked him to share his story of taking these photos and what the experience taught him.

Good Life Northwest: Please tell me about your church's efforts to help the homeless.

Rogers: This is about the third time we’ve hosted a tent city group. They usually come for about a three-month period of time. We have some undeveloped land to the east of the church on the property, so it works out pretty well for them to use this as a site.

Photo by Terry Rogers

GLN: You titled the collection of photos “United We Stand.” What does that name represent? 

Rogers: It’s the name of this group. They named themselves and present themselves this way. This is an organized group of people who have gotten together to be an entity. There are various kinds of homeless camps. There are the sort of ad hoc spontaneous ones that just develop, but then there are groups that actually get together and support each other and try to do things that help them get along and prevail.  

GLN: How many individuals are in this group, and have you hosted them before?

Rogers: I think we have about 30. It varies in number, but it’s between 30 and 35 people. This is the first time we have hosted this particular group. 

Photo by Terry Rogers

GLN: How did this opportunity to photograph the group members arise? 

Rogers: I was curious about wanting to do a project like this, so I approached the minister, the Rev. David Marshall, and asked if he thought it would be an appropriate thing to do. He said, “Yes. Just go down and talk with them.” So I did. 

They have sort of a central tent where they administer, or govern, their entity. I just went down and introduced myself, told them what I wanted to do. I wanted to know if anyone was interested in having a portrait taken. I would provide an 8½ x 11 copy for anyone who wanted that to occur.         

Photo by Terry Rogers

He [the group’s spokesman] said, “Sounds good. Let me bring you to our all-member meeting then.” They meet every Monday afternoon or evening. I’d left him my number and he called me on Tuesday and said, “We have some folks, so let’s do it.” 

There were probably five people that I took photos of initially. I printed them up and brought them back. Then a couple of days later, I got a call asking if I would come back and do some more. So that’s how it all transpired.

Photo by Terry Rogers

GLN: What comments did you receive from them, before, during, or after?

Rogers: Honestly, I haven’t heard too much. They were pleased. They’d say “Thank you.” It was good to hear that. I delivered them and basically that was it. 

I’ve only had some discussion with two or three of them who thanked me and said, “This is really good. I’m pleased to have it.” There was one couple, the black couple with their heads together, smiling…she actually used to model when she lived in the Los Angeles area. She wanted to have some more pictures taken, so I said “Sure. Let’s go ahead and do it.”

Photo by Terry Rogers

GLN: Have you heard some stories from these folks, about how they ended up homeless?

Rogers: When they came, I’d say “What part of the country are you from? What sort of work have you done? How’d you end up in Seattle?” That sort of thing. They come from various parts of the country — Tennessee, Kentucky, California, Montana, Minnesota—and they all have stories. “I used to do construction,” or “I’ve been injured.” One guy shattered his leg, and he lost his house. He had a couple of kids he hasn’t seen. The stories just go on and on. One guy owned a store that he lost because of the financial crisis. They all have their stories. Any of us could get into a situation like that. 

 Photo by Terry Rogers

The other thing our church does is sponsor a community dinner every Tuesday night and it has grown considerably. It’s open to anyone, actually, but a lot of people in the community, particularly the homeless and downtrodden, know about it. We feed 300 plus people every Tuesday night. Over the time that this has been going on now, we’ve served over 31,000 meals. It’s all done volunteer. It’s all done with food that’s obtained as day-old food or food that was going to be thrown out from Safeway. The protein (meat) does need to be purchased, but the money is donated.The link that we have is the guy who actually does the cooking. He’s a member of our church, and he works for Safeway. That’s what has kept this going as another part of the support for this population of people. 

Our pastor, David Marshall, wrote a guest editorial in the Seattle Times within the last three months. It basically says, we can solve hunger. If one tiny church in North Seattle can do this with the excess food from one Safeway, just think what could be done across the community.

[Note: According to the church’s website, Saint Dunstan's serves about 100 on the premises and deliver food to about 200 more in other camps. After our interview, Rogers sent an email with an example situation: "Tonight we served 117 dinners, with at least 200 more people being served at their tent gatherings. Out of pocket expenses for tonight’s meal were $275, so 300 people ate a great meal (and it was good) for less than a dollar per head. And lots of volunteer help."]

Photo by Terry Rogers

GLN: What is the reaction from people living in the neighborhood? Are any of them pitching in to help, or is it just the congregation?

Rogers: We get various people who help. Initially, the neighbors were a little wary of embracing this notion, but as it turns out, [neighborhood crime did not increase at all]. They police themselves very well. There are no drugs or alcohol allowed on the premises, which is their rule. They are very careful about being good citizens. They keep the place tidy and are proud of and responsible for their actions and for their community. I think our surrounding neighbors have accepted the fact that this is a good thing to do and it has not hurt them in any way. (Please read this article from the Seattle Times — "Homeless camp gets a bad rap from Ballardites")

Photo by Terry Rogers

GLN: Your photos are beautiful.

Rogers: Thank you. I enjoy doing it, to be able to connect and have someone trust you enough for them to show who they really are is very gratifying.

GLN: What did you take away from this? What was the most profound aspect of the experience?

Rogers: Everybody has a story. We all have stories. Some of our stories lead to things we have hoped for in the past, and some lead to things we had not hoped for. In spite of all that, every one of the people has pride. That sense of self-worth was pretty impressive for me. These are people who are our brothers and sisters, people, just like us. At the very least, respect them. And say hello. Reach out. They would enjoy it, and you will be rewarded by it.

FOR INFORMATION ON RESOURCES, CAMPS, ORGANIZATIONS INVOLVED, AND HOW YOU CAN HELP PLEASE VISIT THE WEBSITE OF GREATER SEATTLE CARES.  

Shared Housing Services Makes "Home for the Holidays" More Than a Dream

     Lisa Conklin and I both love our work, but the tough decisions her job requires make me shiver as much as some of the people who need her help, many literally out in the cold. As a writer, I make decisions about things like which word to use in a certain place. As Program Assistant and Case Manager for the Transitional Family Housing branch of Shared Housing Services here in Tacoma, Conklin has to choose which families, from among the many worthy applicants, will end up with a temporary home and practical help in starting a more stable life. A word left out of a story feels no pain. A homeless child left without shelter does.
     "I currently have two, 'one-plus' bedroom units available," Conklin said. "However, I have about seven families that are looking for housing. The majority are living with friends, 'couch surfing.' One is staying in the car and motels when they can afford them."
     In addition to providing opportunities for home sharing through their Referral/Match service, SHS owns about a dozen housing units for their Transitional Family Housing program. It isn't a handout. The program offers a hand up, a chance for families to recuperate from whatever situation caused them to be homeless in the first place. The head of the family needs to at least be looking for a job and they do pay a modest amount for rent while receiving mentoring, counseling, and educational classes in life management skills and parenting.
      Have you ever tried to prepare for a job interview when you have no good clothes, no shower, no child care, and not even a good night's sleep because you spent it in a car? I can't think of anything more depressing, except not even having the car for shelter. Even people with homes, a wardrobe, and easy access to good hygiene can't find work these days, so imagine the courage it takes to even try when you have so many disadvantages. But by offering basic stability, SHS makes all the difference. They have permanently changed lives. You can read all about it in a feature article I wrote for a website called Neighborhood Life. The success stories told there will warm your heart, just as they do Conklin's.

SHS clients know the meaning of Thanksgiving

     That's all good, but in today's tough economy the need keeps growing. Each month Shared Housing Services meets 400 NEW individuals seeking alternative housing through their Referral/Match and Transitional Housing programs combined. That means 1,600 homeless people in this local community alone will desperately need the help of SHS between November 2010 and February 2011, the coldest months of the year.        
       "There is a tremendous need for affordable housing," Conklin said,"and with the holiday season fast approaching, a place to call 'home' is very important!" Your help could change the lives of people who are trying hard to get back on their feet. Please consider getting involved in this exercise in compassion. If you'd like to help, please click on this link.
         Many people in Tacoma have made a commitment to SHS. "A great big 'thank you' goes out to Auto Warehousing Company for supplying our TFH families and staff with Thanksgiving turkeys every year!" Conklin said. Her gratitude reflects that of all the familes she's met and helped.
     In the words of SHS Executive Director Byron Cregeur, "There is probably no other time of the year when a home is so much more than just a place to live. Home is where we invite friends and family to our house for a feast and they are greeted with the aroma of turkey and pumpkin pie on Thanksgiving! Home is where your Christmas tree comes alive with ornaments of memories..."
         I've met some of these kids and I hate to think of their memories of Thanksgiving and Christmas involving hunger and cold. Don't you? They are our fellow Americans, right here at home, and many more live only one missing paycheck away from the same situation. Think about it, please.



Remember that many victims of homelessness are children.
















Photos are the property of Shared Housing Services and cannot be used without permission. Text of this post is copyrighted by Candace J. Brown 2010















Eye-Opening Gig as a Street Corner Musician

Sometimes all you can do is choose the least uncomfortable situation, then make the best of it. That thought literally blasted me in the face while I asked my husband, as we set up to play Christmas music on a Tacoma street corner, “Should we be on the west side with sun but more wind, or the north side with cold shade and less wind?” We weren’t “busking”, uninvited and playing only for tips. We’re professional musicians and had been legitimately hired by a local business district, along with several other small groups, to provide seasonal ambiance for shoppers. Playing outdoors is always risky and that day the wind was C-O-L-D. It isn’t easy to play banjo or upright bass with stiff fingers.

As far as I could tell, all the musicians put out containers for tips. We’d been encouraged to do so by the organizer, even though we were being paid. It’s a common practice and usually well supported at places like farmers' markets. But it left us with a lesson in human nature and a few questions, like “Are we seeing some kind of Recession Mentality?” Despite the fact that we played our best, the old tip basket had more open space in it than a mortgage broker’s appointment calendar. Every once in awhile some kind person would drop something in, but not like you would expect.

I know people liked our music. Every time cars stopped for a red light at our corner, windows rolled down and smiles and waves appeared. Some drivers even got honked at when they paid more attention to us than the fact that the light had turned green. But they were safe in their cars and not expected to tip us. In the cold reality of life on the sidewalk we were a little too close for comfort to some people, close enough to maybe require eye contact or greetings. Many, even those who appeared well-off, hurried by. One couple came out of a nice restaurant a few doors down, started in our direction, then stopped and went the other way.

“Maybe we dressed too nicely,” I joked with my husband. “Like we don’t need tips.” He looked good in his layers topped by a corduroy sports coat and wool cap. I wore black slacks and a red wool blazer, a lot warmer looking than it really was. We thought we’d dressed appropriately for the job we’d been hired to do. But I don’t think it would have made any difference. The kind of people who are always “givers” gave, and we did meet some of them, like the nice lady who wanted to treat us to hot coffee. But this year, (and I’m not imagining it) there were more people who just didn’t want to part with a dollar, or even small change. You could see it in their faces and body language. Our presence made them as uncomfortable as the cold made us, even though we didn’t smell bad, look threatening or hassle them. What were they afraid of? That there isn’t enough to go around so they’d better not turn loose of what was theirs?

I can’t say if my eyes started watering from the cold wind or the realization that I at least had a warm house to go home to, and people living on the street do not. I shuddered thinking of spending a night outside in the winter. Then I met two people who might have faced that very thing. A couple got off the bus and came over to listen to us, through several tunes. They smiled and chatted, and offered nice compliments. They looked very, very poor. The man felt around in his pockets. He found two one-dollar bills and I watched him study them, briefly hesitating. Then he looked up at me and smiled and dropped them both in our basket.

“Thanks for the nice music” he said. He gave up money I was pretty sure they badly needed. I wanted to thank him and yet not take it, but seeing in his eyes the dignity with which he’d given the gift, I knew refusing him would be an insult. He was comfortable with his choice. We thanked them both sincerely and watched them go on their way to who-knows-where. I just hoped it was some place warm.

When we finished we spoke with other musicians who’d done about as well or even less so. It wasn’t that any of us were desperate for those tips. But the lack of holiday cheer did surprise us. Is everyone buying into the media hype that the world is coming to an end? We weren’t panhandlers. For less than the cost of a latte’ they could have shown a little appreciation for those struggling to play musical instruments in the cold for their enjoyment, or been a good example to their children, or taken part in a small act of kindness that might have made them feel a bit more like part of humanity. We need not be afraid to share.

Monetary wealth can be shown on a bank statement, but abundance is a state of mind. Times are tough, true. But even if you find yourself in an uncomfortable situation you can still be positive and make the best of it, and even share. In this season, this year, when food bank shelves are bare and some families can’t afford gifts, dwell on goodness, generosity, and gratitude for what you do have, and you’ll magically find out that a kind heart makes you feel as comfortable and cozy as the imagined bliss of Eilza in the musical “My Fair Lady", who just wanted a room somewhere, far away from the cold night air. If we could feel safe, comfortable and happy with only what we really need, wouldn't it be lovely?