Poor People are Built for Generosity

A new short film shows that sometimes, people who have less give more.  (link)The idea that people who experience extreme poverty are more generous is not new.  To me, its part of the culture of poverty.  I grew up in poverty, and my mother was always clear that we should help those less fortunate, and never think of our lives as more valuable than the next.
I would say that out of the hundreds of homeless I have worked with over the years, at least 60% of them said they want to help others once they recover, by working in the field, talking in schools, etc.

It's also not a stretch to think that those who save their pennies carefully are less likely to reach out to the poor.  I watched a video of Paul McCartney walking through New York, chatting with people, signing autographs, etc.  When a man who looked homeless approached him, and shook his hand, he seemed happy to see him.  But when the man pulled him in a little closer, asking him to help him with a personal crisis, Paul backed off, walking away saying "I cant help you with that, take care." Now we absolutely know that Paul has a ton of cash, but we also know him as a man who knows how to hold on to his wealth, as most wealthy people do. This scene is absolutely normal.  Rich people are rich for a reason.

Of course, we've now reached the end game of the wealth-generation experiment, as though we were in the last round of a giant monopoly game.  It hardly seems worth it to pass go and get the $200.00 when every property on the board has a little red motel on it, but we are going through the motions.

In this next chapter, I believe we will see the hope, optimism, and generosity of those with experience of poverty shine through.  The money managers served their purpose and brought stability to the world, but now that the wealth is so concentrated, most of the world is paralyzed, waiting for the billionaires to get bored enough to change things.

ADHD May be One of the Largest Causes of Homelessness

Undiagnosed ADHD may be one of the largest causes of homelessness.  This may seem like a stretch of logic to you, but lets consider ADHD and ADD for a second. NIMH says that ADHD has been shown to be a developmental condition in which the brain maturation is delayed (link).  The delay is most pronounced in brain regions involved in thinking, paying attention, and planning.

Essentially, Johnny doesn't do his homework.  He signs up for the course, amazes people in the classroom with his thoughtful and creative ideas, and becomes a class favourite, but he fails the course-- why? Because 60% of the course mark is based on weekly assignments, and he has missed 80% of the deadlines.  He has also been late or absent for more than 40% of the classes.That's because Johnny doesn't track time very well, and he always figures he has a bit more time.
Planning is a frontal lobe activity, and it is what some argue separates us from animals.  We see the deadline approach, and we prepare, using intellectual analysis of environmental factors to make a prediction about what will happen.  If we time it right, we do exactly what is expected at exactly the right time.
This mental ballet elludes the ADHD brain.  People with ADHD may say that they understand when the deadline is- you can look them in the eye and ask them if they understand what is expected of them, and they will assure you that they will be there.  When it comes time to rely on them, however, you may be disappointed with the result.

ADD is an invisible disability.  As a person struggling with this invisible demon, I frequently find myself in awful situations with no real good reason why.  I am articulate, thoughtful, and I care SO much about others, but success eludes me, because I dont seem to follow through when it matters.  If I talk about this with others, they simply say things like "do better," or "yeah, Im lazy too sometimes, but I learned to pull my socks up and get things done."  Its as though my disability doesn't exist... Im just lazy, or manipulative.

Today, everything is tracked. Every late payment you make for a bill goes into some database that will affect your ability to aquire resources down the road.  A poor attendance record is one of the worst things you can have on your profile, and it's possible that I am damning my ability to ever get a job again by publicly stating that I have struggled with attendance my entire life.

Yet I want us to talk about this, because I am having some success with my brain these days, but I am struck by how many homeless I have worked with who share my experiences.  In order to apply for welfare in my city, an applicant must first go online, and register.  Then they have to show up for a phone interview at the office, in which they will be given a list of documents they will have to supply to gain eligibility(a 60 day bank statement, income tax assessment, identification, etc).  They are given a second appointment, the social assistance worker reviews the material and books an "Intake interview."

Anybody with ADHD is probably laughing (or crying) as they read this, because they realize that us folks have a very slim chance of even having current ID and a current tax assessment, let alone being able to show up on time to three appointments in a row.  Most of us ADHD folks will put off gathering the required docs until the last day, thinking it will be easy.  Then we will stress ourselves out trying to get banks and tax centers to give us the info in too little time.  We will stay up the night before, trying to cover up our delayed response-- only to miss the first appointment because we slept in (got distracted by a phone call and forgot to set the alarm).

I have so many people on my caseload who play this scenario out over and over again.  They cant rent anywhere, because when the landlord checks references, the old landlords always mention how the rent was late, etc.  People with ADHD or ADD can be brilliant, but their attendance record stops them from gaining entrance to most school programs.

Have you ever seen an employment job description that did NOT include "careful attention to details?" I haven't.  We are all expected to plan, to show up, to "take our time and do it right."  It is like a fundamental pillar of our society, and on all of it, we ADHD people fall down.  Over the years, I have found myself hated for what Ive done (or not done).  People react with disgust, anger, frustration, and thus, as Dr Gabor Mate points out, the most frequent phrase used by people with ADHD is "Im sorry."

For many of us, homelessness is the only way to find peace from the relentless demands of systems and institutions.  Some of us end up in jail, because its actually a crime to not show up for court.  We will house a homeless person who is dependable, who shows up to group therapy on time, who is predictable in behaviour, but who can help the guy who "made his own bed?"  Most programs which help the homeless are merit-based, and ADD folks will never make the cut when so many others are competing for resources.

So how am I coping?  I have a pretty awesome career, am widely respected, and I show up when it seems to matter.  While my ADHD is fairly mild compared to some, I use a number of techniques to get by.  I surround myself with people who remind me where to be and when, I medicate occasionally (ADHD meds are usually stimulants that wake the brain up so I can focus at crucial times), and I talk openly about my condition with people I care about, so they know that when I show up late, its not personal, or out of a lack of concern.  When I set an appointment, I usually set up frequent email and text reminders leading up to the event, and I tell friends if I need their help to remember.  It actually takes me three times the effort to show up on time, but it can be done.

To help homeless people with ADHD, I have one strategy: I do it all for them.  I cannot count on them to be there, so I focus on getting them to sign consent forms so I can show up in their place if need be.  Oddly enough, I seldom drop balls with my homeless clients, though I drop balls in my own life like crazy.  As it turns out, outreach worker is a fabulous job for people like me, because the diversity and depth of the work works well with a creative mind. 

Ok world, decide: is the ability to plan, show up on time, and stay focused required to gain access to basic human resources like housing, food, and love?

The Wheat and the Chaff: Why "Housing Advocacy" Won't Exist in the Future.

The Wheat and the Chaff-- Why "Housing Advocacy" Won’t Exist in the Future.

February 23, 2015

By Derek Book

My job is less of a career, and more about mischief.  I am an advocate-- more specifically a Housing Advocate for homeless people.  My role has been slowly created through the advancement of systems that surround the social ills of our society.  We have created a school system, a criminal justice system, a health system, and an employment system -- most of which are nearly perfected.  People who harm others or themselves, make poor personal choices, or refuse to play by the rules are brought to justice, perhaps by being sent to the principal's office, sent to jail, or put on a blacklist which labels them as "drug seeking."  

Client tracking is effortless now, we have cameras covering nearly every square inch of every drop in centre, housing complex, and department store in every city in the developed world.  Databases have been developed, centralized, tweaked and enhanced through intensive computer processing and human resource development.  Chances are pretty good that one day in the future, if one of my clients applies for supportive housing, the intake coordinator will be able to find out how many times the person was sent to the principal's office.  

Yet we are not living in such a world yet.  We still have unswept corners: slumlords who allow tenants with “no questions asked,” probation officers who are asleep at the wheel, and new intake workers who can be tricked into taking a difficult client, despite the mandate of their program.  I live in these dirty corners, huddled there with my clients, looking for an exception, ANY exception to the rule.  

So homelessness has a different definition for me than for some of my co-workers and colleagues.  Academics try to divide the topic into broad categories such as “At Risk,” or “Chronically Homeless,” but to me, it’s more about social acceptability.  Some clients I work with have a low level of social acceptability, and some are in the grey zone-- perhaps they have a few criminal charges, but they are well-spoken, with some recovery behind them, or they have an ability to appear more professional than they are.  I usually take stock of what my client has to offer, and sell it to potential employers, landlords, and criminal judges.  If I can convince the resource that my client is not “one of the bad ones,”(Read: chaff) I have success-- my person gets housing, and is on their way to re-establishing social acceptability.  Some think advocacy is some glamorous job where you attain resources for people who really need them by persistently lobbying for people.  The reality is, it’s a sales job, no different than a door to door pitch with a product that may or may not do as it was intended.  I have a well-oiled landlord pitch that uses such terms as “In transition” to describe people who aren’t likely to be the best tenants ever.  

When I talk with landlords, the elephant in the room is the tenancy history of the person I am working with.  Quite often, not only were they evicted from the last few places they lived, but they did a lot of damage on the way out.  I have to try and keep the conversation positive, and talk about how hard the person is working, when I know personally that some would be lucky to even remember appointments, let alone keep them.   I am speaking of the most difficult cases when I say this, some people are so lost in crisis, there really isn’t much point in trying to move forward, but I must, because I am an advocate.

If a landlord takes my client, they do so at great risk, with little to mitigate any damages incurred.  I may tell the landlord that I will personally follow up if trouble arises, but the reality is, I may not be in this role in a year or two, so I cannot guarantee follow up.  Furthermore, as I house more and more people over the years (I’ve seen over 300 housed in my 12 years in this field) I find it impossible to follow up in any reasonable way.

If a landlord takes my client, they are not acting in a logical fashion.  If a landlord is a good manager, who is concerned for the safety of his or her building, he or she would shut me down in the lobby.  Sometimes I am bringing a tenant who not only lacks all the correct information (they often don’t even have basic ID), I am bringing a tenant who has a PROVEN poor track record with regard to tenancy in many cases.

If a landlord takes my client, they are acting against their own social lens.  Many managers use a “Wheat and Chaff” model to select tenants, and would suffer the consequences if they didn’t.  We constantly tell our kids not to hang out with the “wrong” kind of people, and thus our prejudice against people in crisis begins from childhood.  We are told to avoid people in poverty, because we don’t want to be associated in the wrong crowd.  We have this reaffirmed in “leadership school,” where we are given tools to get rid of the “dead weight” in our workplaces, schools, or communities.  

Yet I have been wildly successful in getting people housed.  So if landlords are taking the people I am advocating for, and getting burned at times, what does that mean in the long run? Well, I’ve seen the backlash unfold over the years: landlords become hardened, screening becomes more intense, and compassionate landlords are replaced by unsympathetic professionals who won’t share their email, cell phone number, or even hand an application to an outreach worker.  Working with outreach workers has become unprofitable, and most landlords in my town won’t even return my calls if they know the organization I work for.

Well, you may say, those “bad tenancy” people can always get into supportive housing, right?  No, they can’t.  There is never enough supportive housing, no matter how much we build.  In my city right now, we are short by over 1000 units (I am estimating- it could be much larger).  This means supportive housing staff must SELECT a tenant.  Keep in mind that these non-profits are funded by other entities that want to see positive outcomes-- the United Way will not fund an organization that is not able to evidence success with the funds allocated.  That means supportive housing complexes are forced into taking clients that will demonstrate “success.”  

So we have come full circle: the tenant with a bad rental history will still require somebody like me to get them in, regardless of whether or not the supportive housing service was built specifically for them.  As it turns out, dealing with supportive housing landlords is much, much more challenging for advocates-- these landlords know me well(most of them know me by name in this city), and they don’t believe me for a second when I say my client has been doing well… they have heard this before, a thousand times.  They understand that an advocate will ALWAYS say their client is ready for housing, because their role is to advocate.  I do my due dilligence and apply for supportive housing for as many of clients as I can, but I don’t waste much time with it, and sometimes, I tell my clients to apply on their own, because having my name on the file is likely to make things worse for them.

My housing focus is still on the unswept corners-- new building managers, slumlords, old-school 12-step “recovery houses,” and informal, sometimes legally-sketchy environments that aren’t likely to ask many questions.  Like a salesman with a less-than-perfect product, I look for those customers who haven’t tried my product yet.  

Inevitably, a person like me sees that the reason why they got into this work has been left behind in the desperate attempt to achieve success.  As an advocate, you start to cringe when the client shows up for an apartment viewing in dirty clothes, smelling a bit like booze and urine.  You want to tell the landlord that the person has been through hell in their life, but you can’t because you have to respect the privacy of the client.  Besides, nobody gives a damn anymore if I say my client was treated poorly-- the response is usually “Haven’t we all?”

So a lot of us advocates have stopped saying we are going to “get people housing,” and it’s something I will never say again, if I can help it.  I used to tell people I would do everything I can to get them in a place within a month, but now I just support their emotions and help them go through the reams of paperwork that society has set up for them.  We want to see them punished-- that’s what this is all about.  We have perfected the art of accountability, and we now hold these people permanently accountable for everything they have done wrong.  You can get a pardon for a crime, but not for a bad credit history, a bad tenancy, a tendency to be late or forget details, or a mental health breakdown-- these things will follow you forever if the researcher digging them up knows what they are doing. I personally won't play this "wheat and chaff" game, because I don't see any of us as having more value than another. I also believe that some people will succeed, some won't, but trying to predict that is like standing on the shore of the ocean trying to guess the height of the next wave. After 12 years of this, I know that everybody is equally worth it, and deserves a second chance-- Everyone. Every time. No matter what they did. Unfortunately, the system will eventually catch up with me, and I will be asked to start working with people who are likely to be successful-- I will be asked to select the wheat from the chaff. I will not play, and thus, I will be hanging up my hat shortly.

In conclusion, I will say that Housing Advocates have an uphill battle in front of them, which gets steeper every year.  I recently had a senior staff person say “Oh, I remember being an advocate, I was so frustrated all the time!” I don’t think she realized that advocacy is not difficult so much as nearly impossible in today’s world of seamless records management.  If you charted the difficulty of my role in today’s housing market, the line would be vertical, I’m sure.   I am not so much a salmon swimming upstream, I am a nearly dead fish somewhere near the end of spawning season, clawing my way up a trickling stream, knowing that I can’t do it much longer-- knowing that when I finally rest, the best I can hope for is a cheesy plaque saying “Thanks for all the hard work!”  Then I will suffer the same fate I tried to prevent the homeless from experiencing: floating downstream with all the dead fish.  At least I know the lady at the counter of the welfare office, maybe she will get me through faster...