More than fingers to stop leaks
By John Mohan

Anyone working on the front lines of homelessness eventually feels like the little boy who used his finger to stop a leaking dike. However, Winnipeg homelessness isn't just a small leak -- it's more like a crack. It isn't just one or even 10. It's hundreds and hundreds with thousands at risk. To assist non-profit agency efforts, governments offer paper wads of short-term funding while citizens and businesses complain the leaks exist and the ground is getting wet. Staff, volunteers and donors bravely intend a role greater than simply managing a leaky dike -- aspiring to permanently plug the holes of homelessness in our city.

The first night Siloam Mission's Hannah's Place Emergency Shelter opened, "Frank" was there for a bed -- May 1, 2007. And every night since. It was safe, clean and warm. Freshly laundered sheets nightly, hot showers and caring staff made the shelter as good as he could hope for. Maybe as good as it would ever get. Failing as a husband, father and employee he had tried existing on the welfare systems.

However he felt (or was accused) he couldn't meet the guidelines. The sentiments of failure were reinforced, and rather than keep trying, he chose to survive by utilizing the free services provided by inner city agencies. Donor-sponsored soup kitchens and provincially-funded emergency shelters would be his permanent destiny, or curse. A familiar story repeated by nearly all of Winnipeg's 2,000 homeless.

All hindered by complex systems and trapped in personal issues. Earlier this year Siloam created a new staff position called a transitional support worker, made possible by a short-term federal government funding agreement. The goal is to assist people experiencing homelessness find their way back to stabilized, healthy lives. An assessment interview begins with asking, "How did you find yourself here at the shelter? What keeps you here? And, what are your dreams?"

Frank's requests were simple. He just wanted a place of his own, be left alone and not made to feel like a failure if he asked for help.

The transitional support worker (Peter Dueck) called the EIA offices on Rory Street who assured him that Frank would be treated with respect and dignity. The worker relayed the information back to Frank and a meeting was arranged for that same day. Frank left for the meeting, but never came back to Siloam that night. What had happened?

Staff feared for the worst. Perhaps Frank never kept his appointment. Maybe it went badly. Perhaps Frank didn't want to face anyone, so stayed outside that night. Did he revisit an old addiction?

Peter nervously called the EIA office the next morning to see if the meeting had ever happened and if so, how it went. They reported that Frank had come, he had been authorized for social assistance, given bus passes to find a residence, (which he located within hours) and the landlord had been given the necessary deposits. Frank hasn't been back to Siloam since.

Shelter director Wayne Smith says existing systems can work to end homelessness if we're proactive in helping people in crisis and sensitive to their limitations. Most importantly staff must have case loads small enough to allow them be relational with those in need. (Peter has 33 people that he is working with to end their homelessness experience).

A hole in the dike is plugged.

Originally printed in the Winnipeg Sun, Wednesday, November 26, 2008.
Reprinted with the permission of Sun Media Corporation.