What Does HEAR US Do?

A good friend asked a legitimate question: What will HEAR US do with the money you're trying to raise? 

I looked at our website, as if for the first time. Even though I created it. Hmmm. The mission statement,

The HEAR US mission is to
...give voice and visibility to homeless children and youth...
HEAR US...
> produces poignant films and books that are used by educators, social service personnel and other audiences to call attention to the invisible crisis of millions of families with children and young people who struggle without a place to call home;
>addresses audiences at conferences, university and college students, and a variety of gatherings to foster a greater understanding of homelessness;
> facilitates media connections for homeless families/youth, and is quite active on social media, shining a light on the need to repair the torn safety net that leaves millions--babies, toddlers, school kids, teens and young adults, and adults-- on the streets.

This gets at the general idea of what we do. And I have always been reluctant to be specific, for good reason I think.

To better understand, let me explain one thing. HEAR US Inc. (www.hearus.us), a national nonprofit, is a VERY unique nonprofit. I've been part of the nonprofit world (my bio, PDF) since the mid-80s. And I know that mission statements and goals/objectives are part of the landscape of the millions (?) of nonprofits scrambling for support. But, HEAR US is different. How?

Well, pretty well no one does what "we" -- I, the sole employee -- do. Having spent more than the past quarter century working with homeless families, youth and adults, I've heard bazillion times some form of: Homeless kids (families)?? I didn't know we had any! ... Aren't all homeless kids in foster care? ... They just live in big cities, like NYC, Chicago... and so on. HEAR US responds to that significant gap in awareness in a variety of ways.

IMPORTANT (short) HISTORY
I've worked very intensely with schools grappling with the reality of homeless students in their midst since way back in 1990. I've advocated with countless families/youth so they could get into school. I've seen educators' lack of understanding. And I've been deeply involved with successful efforts to change laws to better serve homeless families and youth.

And I chose to toss my life to the wind in 2005 (the year HEAR US was formed) to make sure more people, especially school personnel, would have more awareness of and sensitivity to kids and families in homeless situations. And in the process, to be flexible enough to be involved with relevant advocacy efforts, respond to a local crisis, or lead the charge for an invisible, essential cause.

I sold my townhouse and got rid of most of my stuff, purchased (with my own funds) a small motorhome to serve as my home/office/wheels, and set out to do what I had never done before, make a documentary of kids sharing what their experience of homelessness was like and what school meant to them. That film, My Own Four Walls, is now the best training film ever for schools. (the 4-min trailer, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fbSgzEQJXs8 )

Because of how things work, I was able to connect with Professor Laura Vazquez, a documentary maker at Northern Illinois University. She and I teamed up to make the feature-length documentary, on the edge: Homeless Families in America,  which has won many film awards and has been shown on PBS.

I've made lots of other short films, too many to mention, that help homeless kids and families. I've given countless presentations from Congress to Cub Scout leaders. I've advocated for families who've contacted me with a problem related to their homelessness that no one else seemed to be able to help with. I've rattled cages of politicians and policymakers. I've "comforted the afflicted and afflicted the comfortable"  by my writing, my social action, and my presence.

TODAY
It's not quite as haphazard as it seems. It's just hard to know how to say what this matching grant of $10,000 will be used. My board will tell you I'm frugal to a fault, so it won't be wasted.

It will keep me doing what I do...being that sometimes lone voice in the wilderness that is focused on making sure homeless kids and families don't get lost in the shuffle. My entire being is dedicated to that. And I "suffer" for taking the unconventional path of not having a well-defined, specific mission statement.

But those who know me know I won't give up doing what I'm doing or let myself be defined by a funder's priorities (when they differ from our mission). To sum up, what the money will do will help me continue to

• Advocate
• Chronicle
• Educate and otherwise 
• Respond 

to poverty issues as they affect the millions of homeless children and their parents/guardians, and unaccompanied youth who are too often invisible and underserved. That's it! I'm an ACER!

And I'm deeply appreciative of the people who continue to believe in what I do...because it's a mission bigger than me. Without you (that supporter who believes in me), I am nothing.

No Shortage of Wisdom From Those Who Know

Lacking the time and inspiration to develop my own thoughts for this blog, I was bailed out by a single mother from Maine (with help from Wikipedia). With the government shutdown (why do I always insist on putting an "i" instead of "u" in the word shutdown?) in week 2, with no hope in sight, I'll share her words. Diane

"Social security" is a *universal* coverage, greatly expanded since the creation of the program as a response to Depression in the '30's. In the early days, only white men were 'entitled;' since the 50's, women and minorities were no longer excluded and also began receiving benefits. The *whole point* was to limit what were seen as dangers in the modern American life, including old age, *poverty, unemployment, and the burdens of widows and fatherless children.*

Regrettable, the still sexist language; 'widows' and 'fatherless' recall social meanings from the 30's, before eligibility became universal, back in the days when only the (eligible) white men were working, to bring money home to the wives and children. These days we can add 'single mothers.' In most cases, gender matters: the appearance of children affects the people in charge of their care (generally women), in ways that usually mean less time available for income producing work.

While the governmental administration of taxing and benefiting workers is problematic in nightmare proportions, it's nothing like the nightmare people face who find themselves in circumstances that require receiving 'benefits' of assistance for food and shelter.

Words have meaning.

A nation may hope to achieve 'social security,' and will never achieve it by belittling the less fortunate and scrapping for resources rather than sharing the bounties.

Poverty is the enemy, not the people who suffer it.
Poverty has no rightful place in the great nation striving to protect itself with universal coverage created expressly to share the benefits of capital.

Just my two cents.

Shared in a neighborly moment.

Gratitude--Third World Inspired

My somewhat simple lifestyle, for the past 8 years in a 150 sq. ft. motorhome, should have prepared me for the "lacks" on my recent 3-week sojourn to Tanzania. But I found myself in awe that people across this charming country have little in the way of reliable electricity and water.

Doing without sure made me treasure the abundance I experience here in the good ol' US of A.

Understatement. For sure.

Tanzania, in eastern Africa, is a fairly civilized country. The jarring frenetic pace of their commerce system doesn't compare with our mega stores. Shopping takes on a whole new meaning. So does driving. Road conditions are, well, Third World. Translate hazardous, extremely so.

But at the heart of my experience was the beauty of the people and the unbridled hospitality we were shown. My travel-mates Helen and Julie and I were treated like royalty. Our friends in TZ, Sister Afra and Upendo, made sure things were smooth. They went above and beyond, including making sure our travel was in a sturdy vehicle rather than chaotic public buses.

One purpose of our trip was to explore the work that our nonprofit organization Friends of Imiliwaha NFP has been supporting. Sister Afra, who received her undergrad and graduate education at Benedictine University in Lisle, IL, is overseeing a monstrous project--the building of a school so she can provide quality education and services to children in Sumbawanga. Here's a 5-min video I made about those efforts.

Let me blast a few stereotypes that I held:

• Mosquitoes would be rampant. Minnesota style. Not. At least not at this time of year, their winter, a drier time. And it depends on where you are in the country. (Was this a plot by the medical world to sell expensive medication and shots?)
• Heat. Ditto the time of year element. We were a tad chilly some nights and early mornings. Frost covered the ground one morning.
• Desert. Nope. Most of the countryside we visited looked like scenic northern Wisconsin. 
• Education. It's way more important than I imagined. Neighborhood kids poured into Afra's informal winter break classes to learn the alphabet, among other things. 

I've found myself saying that this trip was "life-changing." I suspect that will become even more true as the weeks and months pass. I think back to a trip I took in high school, almost 50 years ago, as an exchange student. I spent 3 weeks in El Salvador. I still can count on that experience as a life-changer, although it didn't do much for my Spanish language skills.

Hordes of media followed President Obama's recent trip to Tanzania. I suspect none of the crowd saw what we saw. Certainly this country, with abundant resources and needs, will fall out of favor of the mainstream press. I posted this blog about his visit and ours in my AlterNet space.

Now I need to get back to my challenges of HEAR US, my domestic nonprofit organization. Poverty abounds on both sides of the ocean. And my firsthand experiences of life without will keep me fighting for those who can't escape the chains of poverty. 

Let me offer you a souvenir as I end this little post: Take one thing in your life that's a constant--it can be as simple as your morning coffee or your drive to work. Imagine how that one element happens--all the people that make it possible for you to enjoy whatever your thing is. Appreciating the abundances in our lives will fuel our efforts to level the playing field for those who struggle to survive. 

See. I just increased the value of your day. 

When You're Hot, You're Hot

 I'm hotter than the "hotties."

I'm certifiably hot. By choice (a combination of practicality and preference) I’ve cast my lot with the air conditioning “have-nots,” swimming in sweat during this sultry summer as I sleep in my toaster oven motorhome. My lifestyle inspires perplexed looks from friends and acquaintances who generously offer a guest bedroom which I graciously refuse. “Tillie,” my RV, is my humble home. When I can reduce my carbon footprint I do. And I don't appreciate the AC's sound of a helicopter landing on my rooftop while my propane tank gets empty. So I sweat in solidarity with the homeless families I advocate for.

The puzzlement of friends is one thing. The cluelessness of those who obliviously surround themselves with climate control comfort is another. Their world is far from mind in so many ways. And that’s OK, though I can vacillate between resentment and jealousy depending on my discomfort. My tactile experience helps me understand why folks are hot and bothered about the debt debacle. But I am far from the only one sweating.

A senior citizen, Arlene, a nurse by profession, bought a modest townhouse many years ago. A spiraling turn of events leaves her now painfully infirm, and the AC unit in her home broken for 3 years. She's so broke she can't fix it, nor can she take her ailing dog to the vet. Arlene, by my way of thinking, is one of the millions of folks who don't factor into the Beltway decisions on how money is spent. She and her sick dog sweat and no one seems able to do anything. It costs money. We don't have any.

Intra and inter party frustration abounds, spreading like Super Bowl fever to the “fans” of Beck, Bernie, Biden, Barack and company. Save, spend, tax, trickle-up, trickle-down, stimulate, slash, all represent positions that adherents will righteously fight for, despite the consequences. Convinced of their “solution,” their opponents become the enemy. No ground for understanding or compromise. And no regard for those like Arlene who suffer day in and day out.

Riling up the “troops,” hateful half-truths spew over airwaves and internet, firing up supporters and foes or repelling the silent, frustrated electorate. Differences become magnified, intensified like the brutal heat of an unreasonably scorching summer day. It’s these differences that hold a key to understanding.

Many people who live in climate-controlled comfort don’t understand, or perhaps appreciate, those who cannot or will not choose that lifestyle. The groups become, by virtue of weather protection, isolated. Resentment builds. Entitlement surges. Righteousness spews. And differences are exaggerated. 

Runners who sweat smugly think they understand, and a bootstraps mentality usually results. See, I do something, I sweat, I shower and go to work in my nice air conditioned office. You too should do this. 

Those who live in perma-chilled areas (where are they so I can go there?!) don't get it, this talk of sweat-induced stickiness. Those who live in jungle-like climates and have adapted nicely to their underwear being wet all the time think we're wusses.

The haves, those with access to ample AC, can lose connections with those who toss and turn on humid nights. Stink and sweat separates. Disdain grows. 

Now I don't begin to believe that our economic malaise is simply a difference between those who stay cool and those who don't. But the key to compromise is understanding. And until you walk the mile, or sweat the bucket-load, you don't understand the other person's perspective. If you don't understand a group of people, um, like those in poverty, you're not gonna give a rat's ass about their well-being.

One of the many humbling lessons I've learned as I lean into my 7th year of Tillie-living is that I need to sharpen my understanding of those who are different than me--the pristine, sweat-free policy makers who have deemed the impoverished masses in this country to be doomed to misery.

Clueless? Confused? Cruel?

I walked around a swanky Portland, OR mall, seething. The irony of me parking Tillie in swanky mall parking lots, my grungy, road-weary motorhome/office bearing signage referring to homelessness, usually makes me chuckle. Not tonight.

Earlier I had a conversation with a long-time friend who is, um, worlds apart from me in some ways. She's a financial planner. I'm a former shelter director turned national activist-filmmaker for homeless families and youth. Our paths crossed at the shelter I ran. "Jackie" led her church's group of volunteers who served on a monthly basis.

The conversation that has me (still) seething was irrelevant, except when Jackie sorta snapped at me as I expressed hesitation to raise postage on our HEAR US stuff because, well, I don't want to gouge our customers. "The economy isn't doing as bad as people say," snarled my Republican friend, who went on to say if people would be hurt by tossing another buck for postage, well...and I'm not sure what she may have said after that. My ears shut down.

Perhaps I hang with the "wrong" folks, skewing my perspective about how well the economy is doing. After all, here in OR where I spent several days last week rubbing shoulders with people who work for the schools or run homeless shelters, I can't tell you the number of conversations I had with people who themselves or someone close to them was losing their job, having hours cut or some version of financial suffering.

Walking to Borders (one of the chain's still-open stores) to grab 2 paperbacks I was looking for, I searched for the economic lens to change my vision. This outdoor mall was not brimming with consumers. The conversation between 2 Borders' employees was about schedule cuts. I stood in line with families that seemed to be doing OK. At least the mall wasn't filled with stores that have gone out of business.

I saw a security guard, one of those underpaid deceptive bastions of safety, and resisted the urge to ask him if all was well with his financial status.

My morning news read included a story about quality teachers and their paltry pay scale. One respected teacher goes from school to a part-time job which gets him home after 11 at night. It's the only way he can make ends meet for his family, a sacrifice to say the least, for him, his family, and I suspect his students.

The workers in this tony mall probably would argue the "good economy" theory. I often wonder what the Whole Foods' associates think as they package meat costing more than their paycheck and handing it to a clueless customer. Sure, they're happy for their jobs, but the gap between what they earn and what they need to survive, much less get ahead grows, along with it disenchantment.

My perspective of the economy may be colored by a few numeric indicators:

• The number of children in this country living in poverty is at a record high, 25%. I see kids living in poverty and what it does to them. Not pretty.
• The number of foreclosures and related evictions continues to skyrocket, with millions losing their homes--their American Dreams--each year. The emotional (and other) damage that occurs when a household is sinking into foreclosure is, well, ugly.
• The number of kids in school who have no homes is well over a million, with school districts nationwide reporting numbers doubling. This number has shot up during our economic (boom, bust, you pick).
• The number of homeless infants and toddlers spending their formative years without a home is at least hundreds of thousands, probably over a million (the subject of our new documentary, "Littlest Nomads," that I'm filming this month).
• The number of people on waiting lists for subsidized housing is off the charts--waits up to 10 years, meaning housing insecurity and increased risk of homelessness.
• The number of people turned away from shelters, or not finding shelters at all, is not accurately documented by government entities, but anecdotal accounts from a variety of sources confirm homelessness is on the significant, tragic rise.
• The number of shuttered businesses and "For Sale by Owner" signs I've seen as I've traversed this nation's backroads is incalculable.Trust me. It's huge, and under-reported.

I could continue. but that list was therapeutic...for me.

Being right, as I sure I am, is no prize. It causes me to wonder about my friend Jackie and countless other clueless, confused, and sometimes cruel people. Is it Darwinian denial? Or is it a concerted effort to wish away poverty and homelessness just by saying it ain't so?

Seems to me we should get a good public relations firm to convince people that poverty and homelessness are alive and well. The message--in the many forms we've tried to present it--doesn't seem to be working.