20for1: Stories of Today

Please note:

Reprinted with permission from The Contributor   www.nashvillecontributor.org

By Jeannie Alexander

downwardmobility@gmail.com

Illustration by Lauren Russell

 

 

Littlest Bum

By Jeannie Alexander

On Monday evening February 2nd, I sat in the downtown library auditorium waiting for the community discussion to begin on homeless encampments. The first person to speak declared that homeless people were homeless because they wanted to be homeless and their homelessness was a consequence of their own bad decisions and addictions. Moreover, he declared, there were more than enough service programs and housing options and shelter beds to serve every homeless person in Nashville. Therefore, if anyone was homeless it was of their own choosing.

My first reaction normally would have been that of anger because such falsehoods only hurt people who are already suffering, and mislead those who don’t know any better. But that evening my initial reaction was that of sadness because I thought of “Lily.”

The next day I made the mistake of reading the comment section that followed The Tennessean article about the homeless encampment meeting, and as I read uncaring, uncomprehending, and ill-informed comments about “hobos,” “junkies,” and “bums” who “don’t want help” and who are “happy on the street,” my mind again turned to Lily.

Lily is not an addict, has never had a gambling problem, and is not lazy: she is homeless, does want help, and is not happy on the street. You see, Lily is two, and if the homeless are hobos, junkies and bums, then I guess you could say Lily is the littlest bum. Lily is smart, tenacious, funny, and absolutely beautiful, and if she had boot straps she’d sure try to pull herself up by them.

Her mother is also not an addict or lazy, she’s just a single mother who is disabled and without a support system. Lily is one of the many faces of homelessness that doesn’t fall into the reductionist view of hobos and bums. The latest numbers from metro schools tell us that there are over 1,100 homeless children in Nashville. Lily has many homeless brothers and sisters.

Three weeks ago I received a phone call mid-morning from a woman I did not know. She said that she had received my number from a homeless man and that she was desperate for help. “Danielle” explained that she was a homeless single mother with four children. After the long and very difficult, not to mention depressing, journey of navigating through different agencies and applying for low-income housing over and over again only to be told of waiting lists lasting longer than a year, Danielle finally obtained housing through Urban Housing Solutions. She is working full time and the dream of rebuilding her life was within her grasp, but she was short $380 and had less than a week to pay her first month’s rent.

Mind racing, I went through every option and resource I could think of, both public and private, and every possibility had already been tried. Feeling frustrated and angry, I inwardly railed against the absurd and unjust situation of a homeless mother trying to do everything right, yet once again being denied the simple, basic necessity of housing for herself and her children.

I decided to cut through the Gordian knot and simply beg: after all, we are all the anawim, the poor of God. I sent an email to around twenty people asking not for sacrifice, but to simply give what they could in a gesture of mercy.

In less than a day I had three times the amount requested and Danielle now has a home, a safe and beautiful place for her children. Overjoyed, I saw another possibility, and in sending a second email I asked if I could keep the additional monies in order to start “The Mercy Fund,” a fund for homeless women who have children or who are pregnant and have chosen to keep their child. The purpose of the fund is to help provide housing and other necessities for women and children who so often run out of places to turn.

Two wonderful women, Lindsey Krinks and Lauren Russell, sisters of my heart, have joined me in the effort of nurturing and tending this Mercy Fund. Our fund is but a mustard seed, but it is a mustard seed we have faith in because we know that our God is a God of mercy and love and just as the lilies of the field are kept and clothed, so too will our Lilys be kept and clothed.

A week ago Lily and her mother came to our office to get clothes for Lily. Safe in our office with her mother, surrounded by love, Lily laughed and played, watched Veggie Tales, held my hand and ate chocolate and peanut butter. We found a beautiful poncho with snow flakes to wrap her in. It draped her body, just reaching down to the floor and she flapped her arms ecstatic with her new garment.

We keep our office in a beautiful old Presbyterian church in East Nashville where I walked Lily into the sanctuary bathed in golden sunlight. Her chatterings abruptly ceased and I heard a little intake of breath before she issued a low solemn “wow.” After a moment or two of silence I asked her “Do you know whose house this is?” and she whispered, “God’s house, Jesus.” “Yes,” I said, eyes swimming with tears, “and that means it’s everybody’s house.”

The time came to take Lily and her mother back to where they are staying. As Lauren and I unloaded the car and turned to say goodbye I felt as if I had been dealt a physical blow. The smile on Lily’s beautiful little face had vanished: she would not make eye contact with us, she would not say good bye; her only response to us was a grim look of resignation, the sort of look that should never cloud a child’s face. Her mother too, a kind woman who loves her child by fighting to make the best of terrible circumstances, looked small, lost, and sad.

This is the face of homelessness that never leaves my mind. The image of Lily’s faded smile and fallen expression is indelible and I cannot walk away from her and her mother. My heart is utterly broken and it is through grace alone that I am able to continue to do this work. And this grace drives not only me, but Lauren and Lindsey, and all the others who are fighting against the American nightmare of homelessness. We do this work because we must do this work, because Lily and her mother not only deserve, but have a God-given right, to a safe home.

As this paper goes to press an argument rages within Planning Commission meetings concerning whether or not Habitat for Humanity will be permitted to move forward with a planned community of over 300 new homes for low-income residents of Nashville.

Those in opposition to the planned development worry about the possibility of the value of their homes declining as the result of a low-income community being constructed in their “back yard.” I wonder if the homeowners realize what a luxury it is to have a back yard and to have a home the value of which can rise and fall? The Mercy Fund can help Lily and her mother with expenses such as rent, but first there must be available housing.

A home for Lily and her mother isn’t an investment, it’s a matter of life and death, and I wonder if those opposing the Habitat community would be willing to look Lily in the eyes and tell her that she can’t have a home and that she and her mother will have to continue to live in encampments, on couches, and in shelters, because Lily and her mother, and those like them, are less important than property values? Could you? What is the price of a life?

When not hanging out in tent city or hiding in monasteries Jeannie Alexander can be contacted via email at: downwardmobility@gmail.com. Please contact her if you are interested in donating to the Mercy Fund.

 

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