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perspective

Friday night at the homeless shelter

by Darnell Neff

It’s Friday night and I’m seated on a worn sofa with my feet up on a nearby chair. Pretty much like any college student.

“Hey, can you open my locker so I can get some cigs?” Not so much like any college student. At the door is a cheerful middle-aged man with calluses for hands, built by a lifetime of hard labor. As I heave myself to my feet, I pull the key ring from my pocket and begin sorting through it for the one that will fit the padlock.

Everyone is trying to quit smoking at the Harvey County Homeless Shelter. Many of them grew up in their parents’ cigarette smoke, or picked up the habit to reduce stress while they were down on their luck. Most of them still head out for a smoke break several times before lockup.

That’s the way it has been since the homeless shelter opened, more than three years ago. One of the first classes of my first semester at Hesston College, Faith and Discipleship, took on the shelter as the practical application part of the class. Fewer than 20 of us covered the first month while things got organized. Those who remained in the area still volunteer as necessary. Today there is an intricate system of churches scheduling meals and overnight volunteers, but all too often someone needs to step in.

By this time of night, things are mostly wrapping up. We’ve already pulled together a meal, gotten everyone signed in and taken care of the dishes. It won’t be long before it will be time to declare lights out and lock the door after the final smoke break. After that, my partner and I will negotiate shifts. One grabs whatever sleep he can while the other remains awake for any late-night arrivals.

Most of the residents are in on time, so this is generally easier than the morning shift, when you have to manage wakeup calls in the pitch-black room so the men can get to their early shifts at work. You get lucky most of the time, though – usually they’ll be up and finding some cereal 15 minutes before they asked you to wake them.

Few of the volunteers or residents realize how old this project is. The building is the former Axtell Hospital, and various local youth groups spent uncounted hours removing old supplies, taking out crumbling walls and remodeling the building before it ever became a homeless shelter. It has been all-volunteer from the beginning, with electricians and plumbers donating the skilled labor.

Since then, the shelter has undergone multiple changes in order to better serve the needs of the community. Rooms have been set aside for women and families, both of which come through the shelter regularly. Washers and dryers have been made available near the kitchen. A computer is provided in the primary living area. Donated food is organized in a pantry for workers who need to eat on the job.

Perhaps the most significant change is the introduction of transitional housing. Residents can generally stay at the shelter for up to a week, but if they are willing to meet with shelter staff and lay out a plan for the future, they can switch over to the affordable housing plan. Several of the residents currently live in houses or apartments around Newton, supported by local churches.

The road to that point can be a difficult one. Most of the residents are men who have worked their entire lives only to lose their homes and vehicles when laid off without warning. Some are teenagers, just out of high school and no longer supported by their families. Others are single mothers. At almost any time, there are a few children running around the shelter.

Without systems of support, many of these people will suffer within poverty, desperately pulling on shoes that lack even bootstraps. Even working two or three jobs, the low wages available to the majority of them are not nearly enough to support the cost of housing, food, health care and insurance.

Given half the opportunities I or most of my peers take for granted, most of the shelter residents could be living comfortably. But our social system tends to punish those on the bottom and reward those on the top, reinforcing its own order.

Changing that is a complex and difficult process. In the meantime, thousands of men, women and children are on the streets. All of us – those who return to a home at night – need to act or we help to perpetuate this system. Homelessness is not a societal problem – it is a group of far too many individuals. At the very least, each of us can make a difference in the lives of one of those individuals.

So I give the man his cigarettes and wave goodbye as he heads outside to the smoking area. I can hope the next time I’m here the cigarettes will no longer be in his locker. Perhaps the next time I see him at the shelter he will be a volunteer instead of a resident.

That will probably be the last event of the night, so I’ll return to sitting on my couch. I’ll read a book or do some work for my classes, much like any college student. The job really feels almost too easy.

And if it’s that simple, how can I not?

Darnell Neff, North Newton, is a senior majoring in English and Bible and religion at Bethel.