Returning

We live in a culture of violence, yearning for alternatives we cannot yet speak of, language lagging behind experience, experiencing undefined without language. Returning, I realized how much I have missed the chaotic liveliness of Chinatown. The peach tree ripened in my absence and on these cool mornings I snatch a dangling fruit as I walk to work. Everything continues, and I revolve through my roles: friend, advocate, mailman, janitor, listener, conflict manager.

Today we met to process the recent homicide on the corner of our home street. During the meeting, R.'s niece arrived to inform us R. had passed away. In these short six months, there's been two shootings on J. street and this will be the fifth death among my Chinatown community.  Life on the streets does not get easier, and I chose to return, to remain, but others don't have that luxury. The culture of violence permeates everything-- economic, structural, systemic violence, personal, emotional, physical violence. The violence that lies in my own breast and lashes out- white-hot in my own tiredness, lack of control, unmet desires, or sense of attack. Wonderful, wild, R. -- so many mornings of coaxing her, trying to remain patient while she nagged and harassed and sometimes laughed her wild delicious laugh. We were all mad about R. even though she was a handful.

Thinking of the three victims who were shot walking home from church, I wonder about their stories, how their families and communities will grieve, how they will deal with their loss, how the survivors will accept their life in the face of lost friends. Every act of violence continues. It is frustrating to see the media wrangle out more viewers from the callousness and drama of a death. Where do we begin to live into the alternatives? Steph picked roses from our bush and left them on the corner. Every act of love is a small resistance. How do we continue to hope in the face of systems and cycles that create and fuel violence? Gangs, substance abuse, racism, lack of funding for healthcare, for education... returning to the same faces on Soledad, some who have been on the streets for years. The interchange between sorrow and joy is so subtle. Millions of people kissed today, laughed today, were delighted, shared stories, shared meals, played... millions were fearful, hurt, hungry, hurting, dying. Every act of love is a small resistance.

I don't have answers for most of my questions. I do not always know how to make sense of the rage, sorrow, and joy I feel (in quick successions.) I know that I desire to live deep awake and that sometimes to remain awake, to listen to others, is costly, exhausting, and painful. But this is life.

"Look at the names carved into us
Look at the days when they were lit up
Brushing my head and I feel their rage
Years of radiance, years of rain

And the world stops spinnin’ when you stop spinnin’
Sighs when you sigh when you sigh
I’m coming home so leave the light on for me
I’m drawing over the moon on this fell
When I’ll get in I will see you all there
I’m drawing on the great exhale
I'm soaring on the great exhale."  - Great Lake Swimmers

Turf.

This week there was a deliberate act of vandalism/intimidation against one of my community members. Word on the street trickled back to us that it was a reprisal for summoning the police (which we do for the safety and security of our guests.) A few weeks ago Joann said about Chinatown, "You gotta remember where you're at, you're not in Sunday School." For sure. Violence is an aspect of life here-- from the prison culture mindset and threats, to little scuffles, to beatings, and deaths. There's a sense  from some guests that inside is our alcove of safe space, but the street is a jungle. We closed the dayroom for a day and held community meetings with our volunteer corps and then the general public. One person said, "The cut wasn't to the tires, the cut was to our body."  Another said, "We need to build bridges with the dealers so we can respect each others boundaries. We need to be good neighbors." People make a lot of assumptions about people that are experiencing homelessness. My community is full of wise, beautiful, ordinary people. Chinatown was created, it was planned to hold the undesirable away from downtown and the marginalized are pushed there... another volunteer whose been around 20yrs said, "First they built a wall and we broke it down, then they built a fence, they corral us in."  Dorothy Day said, "Our problems stem from our acceptance of this filthy, rotten system."

And the truth is, the dealers often are respectful to us. There's a spectrum: users (who may sell just to support their addiction), 'thugs' (who are more like gangs), and dealers (who operate with a business mentality). The police here are also really trying to work with the situation in new and creative ways and partner with us. There's a lot of philosophical head-butting. I am inclined to resist increased surveillance and trust that - slowly -- even years down the road -- that community can create accountability, that the street does indeed belong to the people who live there, not to those who exercise violence to control. Their presence won't decrease unless the demand decreases, which is a arduous symptom to fight against. 

A co-worker said, "If a person gets off drugs but re-adjust to the "American way of life" are they any more free?" 

Community Development in the US of A.

There's an exhaustive amount of questions and theory and living to dissect in my head. I miss sitting in Common Grounds and being able to discuss these issues.

Today a member of my community, a favorite of mine-- a 70yr. old man with bright blue eyes and weathered skin who I helped build a shelter for, gave me the first 20 pages of his biography to read. It's actually pretty well-written and fascinating. Moving here has shattered misconceptions I had about "the homeless" (and made me think about how often we use adjectives about people's situations to classify them versus returning to the fact of humanity. They are homeless people. Undocumented people. Migrant-worker people. Drug-using people. etc.). Many of my new friends are kind, smart, & strong-willed but for whatever reason (bad-decisions, bad habits, lack of ability to adapt, or lack of skills in stress/conflict management, social ability, etc.) have fallen out of what is defined as "normal" society. How do I accompany them in the unique struggles of their community and in their individual stories? It's frustrating to see people who are very capable and intelligent but lack the resources or social skills or coping abilities to function. I have been spending a lot of time thinking about "mutually liberating partnerships" and meaningful work. One exciting thing I'm working with is a woman's group, Bill-- a co-worker of mine and an amazing community organizer, has helped them establish a reading room and coffee shop micro-enterprise that is in the beginning stages but its amazing to see the women finding their voice and learning how to organize, communicate, and make their imagined futures a reality. 

[Excerpts from a letter to a friend] I've been thinking about land right's a lot. I think we hear about it as an issue in the third-world more with peasants or whatever but I've been surprised to see how it's an issue in the US too. In the coming weeks the police are planning a sweep of the homeless encampment where lots of my new friends live and we have a weekly community forum where someone asked, "where is there a place I am allowed to sleep?" The PD has said they don't want to criminalize homelessness, but it does in effect become criminalized where it is illegal to camp just about anywhere. I have been thinking about private property and how even "public" places forbid camping (or sleeping)... or with the Occupy Movement-- sleeping bags, lying down, etc. It seems like the system always benefits those who have property to protect and defend. 

Parallels that come to mind as I think of what you're doing and would love to hear your take on-- ownership/agency despite the potential of transitory. Your community faces violence, outbreaks of fighting or threatening. My community also faces violence, I've been to two memorial services in the past two weeks. They face intervention because they don't own their land. Some of my community has little investment in their surroundings besides trying to secure a place to sleep-- they are given disposable objects and get new donations rather than hold unto things (which is also understandable because it's hard to be homeless and have to lug things around but it can become a cycle.) So how have you worked on increasing ownership or desire to participate in your own community there?