Reflections from the front lines serving homeless people, during a very warm Phoenix winter, questioning the idea/usage of “hope,” and recognizing the power of collaboration through the Arizona Shelter Network.
Phoenix is experiencing unseasonably warm days. According to local news a record high was hit on Sunday at 84 degrees. I’m not complaining as personally I would rather be warm than cold. It does make us wonder if we are in for a doozy of a decrease in temperatures yet this Winter. And what will happen this Summer if it doesn’t cool down?
As to the number of people we are serving: On Tuesday, February 3 the Keys to Change street outreach team counted 203 people unsheltered in the immediate area around Key Campus and 253 in the expanded count area for a total of 456. The shuffle of small encampments continues with pockets of people showing up in unexpected areas after they have moved from one location. On Key Campus we continue to collectively shelter over 900 people per night between the Keys’ Respiro shelter, CASS Single Adult Shelter, and St. Vincent de Paul overflow. The demand for services continues.
On a positive note, I am thrilled that Keys to Change launched the Arizona Shelter Network with a press conference on January 20. This is a formal partnership with A New Leaf, CASS, and UMOM working together to unify our message, our ask, and to fight to retain the current shelter capacity in Maricopa County. An additional dozen plus organizations are participating in work groups on shelter utilization, using data to understand when and where there are bed vacancies; and shelter managers sharing promising practices and ways to coordinate resources for better referrals. And we have goals! This is a long time coming. And for me it’s a major milestone after working on a funders collaborative for many years with short-term success and little to no systems change. And after being involved in the Continuum of Care for years and witnessing HUD struggle to build systems that could lead to functional zero. Government and funders had their chance, built plans, and included service providers to a limited degree. We have cycled through plans and assessments, plans and meetings, plans and lack of leadership. I’m not calling anyone out in particular. I was involved at some level in most of these activities. New efforts are needed. Now for the first time in our community service providers are organized, owning their work, and unifying to build a framework that will tell community what is needed to ensure that anyone and everyone who experiences homelessness in Maricopa County has access to a safe place to sleep.
And we are just getting started. If you want to be involved, track our progress, and/or learn more, sign up here for email communications: azshelternetwork.org
While this is Maricopa County focused to get started, we intend to invite our colleagues across Arizona to join us.
This is a first step toward systems change.
On this roller coaster of ending homelessness, I often struggle with processing my own feelings about the work. At times feeling very emotional. At other times compartmentalizing and detaching from the reactions to what’s happening on a daily basis.
I have always avoided using the word “hope.” Many times, when I hear it used it sounds like people are wanting it to be an actionable verb. And I listen and in my head wonder, “what are they doing to “hope”? Are they concentrating really hard? Are they scrunching up their face, squeezing their eyes closed and “hoping”? When I hear others use it as “I want to give people hope,” it doesn’t compute for me how that would happen. “Hope” isn’t an item you can pass on or hand out. And I probably overthink…. contemplating if it’s like “motivation” or “inspiration.” I believe people can be motivational or inspirational, yet it can be offered and that doesn’t mean it is received.
For some reason “hope” has always put a hitch in my giddy up.
Currently I am practicing opening my mind to “hope.” Last Fall I had an amazing opportunity to gather with a collective of people and share my vocation, my “why.” As I was describing what it takes to work on ending homelessness, I ran out of a way to share why I think it really is possible to achieve this lofty goal. And a person in the group said, “Hope. You have hope.” Others nodded their heads in agreement. I sat back and let it sink in.
Maybe I do have hope. Maybe I don’t have to understand any deeper than that. In my core I know ending homelessness, specifically achieving functional zero, is possible. When odds seem to be against us, I do remain optimistic and HOPEFUL. You aren’t likely to hear me talk about “hope” as a verb that I can make actionable, nor as a thing I can give to other people. I am becoming more comfortable with hope as a feeling.
The unexpected weather and the daunting levels of demand are tough. The Arizona Shelter Network is action and optimism at their finest. And I have hope.
