Angels On My Side

Knowing that I had people on my side played a big role in my ability to maintain any semblance of sanity. But because I didn’t feel comfortable “coming out” as homeless to a lot of people, the few that I shared my truth with became very important to me.

The first person from work that I told was my immediate manager, Sam. The café also did catering, so oftentimes I’d find myself working late at private events. The first New Years Eve Ball that I worked for them, I was scheduled until 4am. Thinking one hour would be enough wiggle room, I requested a late curfew at the shelter, telling them I’d be back by 5am. As the night wore on, it became obvious that there was no way we’d be getting out by our scheduled time. I panicked because had I missed curfew, there was the very real chance that I’d be kicked out of The Program and wouldn’t have a guaranteed place to sleep. As 4am approached, I went to Sam to tell him my problem. I tried to be offhand about it, not wanting to dwell on the subject of my own homelessness. He was shocked, but characteristically supportive. He couldn’t promise me that I’d be out in time to make curfew, but he assured me that if I couldn’t get into the shelter, I could come stay with him and his wife. I was touched that he would make that kind of offer, but I was still determined to make it back to the shelter in time. Fortunately I did, but the biggest thing that came out of that revelation was the feeling that someone knew what I was going through. I’d been worried that word would quickly spread and people would treat me differently, but Sam never broke my confidence. After that, it became easier to tell people from work about my circumstances. I wasn’t as afraid anymore of their judgment. I began to realize that, even though my homelessness was a result of my own poor decisions, it wasn’t the mark of shame I’d been fearing. The coworkers that I told, rather than viewing it as a sign of my own weakness, saw it as something difficult that I’d overcome, and they seemed to think more highly of me than ever.

“Coming out” to my work friends made it easier to reach out for help from other people. One such person turned out to be already connected to me. At the shelter, there are different groups for different types of homeless men. I was in the Veterans’ Group, which emphasized programs and benefits available to those who have served our country. During the weekly job-search meeting (it didn’t matter that I already had a job, I still had to comply with the requirements of The Program, and attending job meetings is one of them), John passed around a printed email listing jobs available to veterans. In the address line, I spotted a name that looked really familiar immediately. “Jason Wayne Brooks” had been cc’d on the email, and something about his name struck a chord with me. It took some thinking, but I finally remembered where I’d seen the name before: one of my best friends from high school, a girl named Marella, was married to a guy by the same name. Turns out it was the same Jason Wayne Brooks, and he indeed worked for a non-profit organization dedicated to helping vets who were either homeless or in danger of becoming homeless. They offered many different services, from job placement to work clothes. That last part particularly interested me, as I was due to start my new job at The News of the World Cafe, and didn’t have clothes that complied with their uniform requirements. Knowing I was scheduled to work my first day the following morning, Jason squeezed in an appointment with me where he presented me with the clothes I’d need to start working. I’d emailed him my size and the kind of clothes I’d need, and he’d gone out early that morning and gotten me what I needed. Looking at the Wal-Mart bag on the floor beside his desk, I almost teared up thinking of how blessed I was to know someone in the right place at the right time.

I wound up working with his organization, Volunteers of America, more extensively as I prepared to move out of the shelter. After qualifying for their rental assistance programs they helped pay my rent every month for the first five months I lived on my own. The amount they contributed changed each month, with them paying less each month, and me paying more. It was designed to give vets an opportunity to save money, while still having a roof over their head. I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to properly express how grateful I am to Jason and the staff at VoA. Their advocacy on my behalf not only afforded me dignity and opportunity, but it gave me the strength to persevere when things got difficult. Because of my association with them, I had the confidence that my time in the shelter would be ending sooner rather than later.