Unemployment Not a Valid Reason for Being Homeless

Walk Week 41: Walking in the shoes of the homeless

After receiving an appointment to speak with a Case Advocate at 4:30p.m. later today, a soft male voice slightly louder than a whisper asked, “Do you like golf?” I turned to my right in the direction of the sound. My gaze was met with a quiet curiosity projecting from a reserved, slender, curly-haired Black male. The look in his eyes along with the slight smile on his face clashed against the backdrop of shocked looks behind the counter in front of me. Walking over to give him my undivided attention, I answered his question. We chatted back and forth casually about our mutual interest in the game. Still seated, he looked up at me and asked, “What are you going to do in three weeks?”

Hearing the voice of God in the words flowing over his lips, I smiled and sighed, “I don’t know.”
“You can’t stay here forever. Where will you be in three weeks?”

Repeating my uncertainty, the lady seated behind the counter called me over. “He’s…” she began before finishing her sentence with rotating finger motions at her temple. I just smiled and nodded to her, turned, and bade farewell to the young man. I know the voice of God when He speaks through His children. Some people call them crazy. I know differently. I know the truth.

Four hours later, I returned for my appointment and was met by a young lady with Latina features and red tinted hair. Introductions were made, and I ascended the stairs behind my Case Advocate. We each took a seat in our respective client-service provider chairs in the smallish office. Picking up the intake form I completed describing why I came to the shelter and placing it in her lap, she hesitated. “So.. I read what you wrote, and all I can say is wow.”

“Yes, its true that I’ve given all I had to found the nonprofit and to help others. Now, ironically, I find myself in the very same position as many of the people I seek to help.” Continuing openly, I described my spiritual and professional journey over the last 10 years from engineering to community service, life coaching, graduate school, founding the Coalition, starting the Walk, and ultimately God’s last directive to move to Rhode Island on a leap of faith. When she could maintain eye contact with me, her eyes said, Wow and I’m not sure about this simultaneously. Nevertheless, she remained cordial, understanding, and caring. I told her that I never imagined myself being in this position. Her response: “I don’t think anyone ever does.” Point taken.

The Case Advocate explained that there was a program for individuals experiencing homelessness for the first time and who also show initiative and potential for quickly getting back on their feet. “You would be a great candidate for that program,” she assured. “Let’s get the paperwork started.” Being accepted into this program would allow me to bypass the usual placement in the general women’s shelter where you fight for a mat, sleep on the floor, and pray that your belongings are still with you in the morning.

She droned through the customary questions to which I gave non-customary answers. No, I was not receiving any sort of public assistance. No, I never have. I’m just unemployed. No, I don’t need to get a GED because I have graduated high school and hold a Master’s degree. No, I am not fleeing a DV (domestic violence) situation, and no, I’m not without housing because of substance abuse or mental illness issues.

I’m just an unemployed professional with a boat load of knowledge, skills, and experience… who moved here because God told me so. “I live a 100% Spirit-directed life. I hear, listen to, and follow the voice of God. If He tells me to do something, I do it. If He asks me no to do something, I don’t do it. God is my life’s director.”

Uh-oh. Probably not the smartest thing to say even though its the truth. I could see the red flags waving in her mind as they reflected the skepticism in the near-blank stare of her eyes. She then repeated the list of current issues I could possibly have.

“Do you have any addictions?”
“No.”
“Alcoholism?”
“No.”
“Mental illness?”
“No.”
“Domestic Violence?”
“No.”
“Any disabilities?”
“No.”
“Veteran?”
“No.”
“Other family abuse, evictions, or issues?”
“No.”

None of the customary boxes could be marked as an applicable explanation for my presence there. Then, she switched her questioning angle, 

“Have you ever had depression or anxiety, suicidal thoughts or anything like that?”

“Sure, yeeeaaarrrsss ago, I did when I hadn’t and didn’t know how to resolve the traumas of my past. I was depressed and had suicidal thoughts. But that was then. This is now. That’s not my life today. That’s not my reality today.”

Aha! The Case Advocate quickly checked the boxes labeled “Mental Illness” and “Long-term” and wrote in suicide ideation.

“Hold on,” I protested. “I don’t have a mental illness. I’m not depressed. I certainly don’t have any of that long-term. I’m not suicidal. I’m unemployed.”

Trying to cover, she explained that they just needed to be aware of any issues that might become a problem during a client’s stay at the shelter. 

“Oh, no, this is not meant to be offensive.”
“It’s not offensive. It’s inaccurate. It’s not my truth.”
“No, we just need to…” she hesitated, “sometimes people come in with chronic iss–“
“I don’t have chronic anything,” I interrupted. “I’m fine. I’m just an unemployed professional with no money to get a place to live.”
“Oh, we don’t mean it that way. It’s great that you don’t let your past define your future. We just have to let staff know if there are any potential problems with a client.”

Let it go, I told myself. I was not going to argue with her as I had clearly stated my truth. Now, the red flags were waving in my mind.