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Homeless in Kenora:
INDEX: The
Kenora Fellowship Centre offers shelter and comfort to the vulnerable, the
disadvantaged and the displaced. It
is the only operation giving refuge from the streets to marginalized
citizens within the community and is strategically located in downtown
Kenora. All are extended a
warm welcome, a cup of tea or coffee, a snack, and often a warm meal. The Fellowship Centre is abuzz each day with the ebb and flow of an average of 75 with many days well exceeding the 100. Besides being poor, many of the regular visitors battle an addiction, have a mental illness and may also have a limited education and few job skills to equip them for employment in today’s economy. Some are homeless while others live in a small single room or share larger quarters with several others. The Centre is their common meeting place, a place of camaraderie. Many regard as it as home, a secure place where there is assurance of personal worth and self confidence is rebuilt. The Centre is often the venue for communal gatherings including the birthdays, weddings and wakes of its clientele.
Much of the Centre’s operations are facilitated by the work of the approximately 50 volunteers who serve throughout the year. Some of those volunteering are former visitors themselves who have experienced difficulties coping with addictions and/or poverty. These volunteers can be found helping to serve beverages, meals, sweeping the floor or sitting down with others to do a jig-saw puzzle or play cribbage. It is this interaction between caring individuals and those beset by life’s merciless challenges that creates opportunities for growth and empowerment. The centre
is constantly adapting to the changing needs of our most disadvantaged
citizens. Services have
shifted over the years, but the core caring continues. At
the centre of our operation are the values that pulse through its programs
−respect, equity and compassion. |
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Letter 1 I
moved to Kenora for the first time in many years and did not know about
the Fellowship Centre.
I didn’t know about it until I ran out of money and (had) no
place to stay.
I talked to someone I didn’t know and he told me about this
place that would help me.
So I was very nervous about coming to the Fellowship, but when I
got here I talked (to) a lady named Letter
2 Boo My
name is xxxxxxx. I
am not xxxxx - just (go by) my last name. For
me I say, “Fellowship is a kind place.”
The Director is a kind man and the staff.
I remember I got sick and was sent far from home so the only way
I could stay nearby was Fellowship. I
hope that Fellowship gets the help they need. “Thank
you, Henry and staff. I
miss you Doris Horne.” Letter
3 I
started coming here at the Fellowship in 1990, when it was a day
program. During the day
Doris Horne and Rev. Hildebrandt gave out free clothing (and) fed you. If
you were out of money for certain things, they would lend you their
change if you promised to pay them back. Even
then they would not expect it back. They
gave and they gave out of their love for people and God.
They have really helped me out the last few years.
I truly thank the “Out of the Cold Program.” Without that
program, a lot of people would be cold, without somewhere to sleep, with
no showers, or washed clothes. For
myself I have used the Program effectively and to a manner which has
kept me safe and sound. Whenever
they have Feasts and drumming, I am always there willing to lend a hand,
and serve my elders and my friends. I
thank you Yours
Truly
Letter
4 One
day at the Fellowship Centre, I saw a band of “train-hopping”
hippies come walking towards the door.
My mother and I spotted them.
A huge smile came across my face as I gazed at the instruments
strapped to their makeshift patched backpacks. My
mom wanted to take the dogs for a run behind her homemade pull shed, but
I knew I could not pass up the opportunity to meet this band of merry
men and women. We
jammed a couple of songs as they watched the trains go by, eagerly
awaiting their next departure.
Staring out the big windows in the Fellowship that day I said to
myself “Now what am I supposed to do? I
have to rethink everything again! Oh
well...” So I thought about catching my first freight car. I wandered after the group, but they disappeared just in front of the hospital. My journey into the forest to find them was met with little success. As I walked down the tracks, I prayed, “What can I do. Please guide my footstep.” After a couple of deep breaths I was at my grandmother’s bedside, happy as ever and enjoying my time with granny. Letter
5 This
Centre was first opened in the 70’s.
Doris Horne considered us as her children.
She had a lot of respect for Natives and White(s).
Best of all, staff have showed a lot of kindness and have helped
people through “thick and thin.” They
have fed a lot of people. Letter
6 The thing about the Fellowship Centre is the workers that work here. They’re helpful. The names are Jebb, Dennis, Leonard, Rose, Bernice, Annette, Debbie, Rick. There are other workers here, but I don’t know their names.
Letter
7 The
first time I heard about Fellowship was through a friend - an elder
friend - where to get coffee and tea. A
good place out of rain and snow in winter.
Now I did forget my friend’s name. I
was in my teens, fourteen, and shy at first but with no cash. (I)
grew to know (the Fellowship Centre) as a good place.
Been here since, throughout the years. I
enjoy the workers. They
(are a) very excellent group.
(Their) job is to keep (the Fellowship Centre) clean, very well
kept. At
times, when I make it home to Thank
you for the friendship. Your
friend Frank My
dad used to come here and I learned from him to come here for help. I’m
disabled and lived on the streets in Kenora for about two years. When
I needed food or clean clothes or a safe place to sleep, I would come to
the shelter. Once
I met my wife, I got off the streets and got a home. We
even got married here by the minister. We’re
both disabled and still come here for help. The
staff are friendly, and I try not to get on their nerves too much. Sometimes
I joke in the wrong way, but they are teaching me not to bug people. Once
a year, they pay half of our tickets to One
time the Centre made a Christmas play. I
was Joseph, and my wife was Mary. We
wore costumes and had to remember our lines.
We had to practice a lot. My
family and friends came to watch. I
was sweating nervous, but it sure felt good when everybody clapped. It
also feels good when my people came to drum. Once
they did a healing song for me. It
really mattered to me that the Fellowship Centre cares about our ways. Joe This
is a place where people come to feel good, and they leave here feeling
better. Carl I
can remember when they had a daycare here and I would come as a child. I’m
41, and I’m still coming here. It’s my second home.
Tom Without this place I wouldn’t be where I am today. I’m disabled and they helped me when I needed it. Because of my pension rules, it would have taken three months to get a place of my own.
The
Fellowship Centre gave me enough money to pay down rent when a place
came up, and it is hard to get places in this town. They
helped me, and that’s why I volunteer here so often.
I can help out, too, and that makes it better for everyone.
I may be too disabled to work,but I can still be useful to
others. Norma A
long time ago, I was drinking and Sara My
grandmother was in the hospital in I was really scared. A man from the Fellowship Centre found me. I knew him from high school so I trusted him to help me. He arranged for me to stay during the day at the Youth Drop-In Centre. A lady from Street Patrol helped me get to a hotel for the night, and the next day I went to the parent’s program at the Nechee Friendship Centre. I don’t know what I would have done without that help. My children and I were kept safe, and I was able to make arrangements to get home to my dad. I never expected to be in the situation that I was, but help was there when I needed it. I would like to thank all of those who helped me on my way. Bill This
place is a prison of kindness. They
are pretty good to me, but I don’t have choices. A man needs
choices in his life. I’m
glad the Kenora Fellowship Centre is here, but I want a place of my own.
I
am 64 years old and am disabled. The
hospital released me, and the only place my worker found for me to live
is a second floor apartment in a building full of drunks. I’ve
done my share of drinking, but I’m too old for this kind of craziness.
I’m
in a wheelchair right now, and I will still need a walker once my feet
heal up. How
can I get up a flight of stairs? I
don’t know what I am going to do. |
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I’ve worked as a staff here before. It was a training program, but there is no money for hiring or expanding programming. I care about these people - that’s why I help out when I can, but they need so much more. Keeping people alive isn’t enough. We can’t just feed them, clothe them, and shelter them. We need to offer options for life beyond basic needs−life skills, job training that leads to real jobs, places that they can afford to live. It frustrates me that there is little to offer beyond surviving. If all the agencies and politicians would just put their resources together and commit to making a difference, we could do it. I complain, and then I turn around and volunteer to help someone here yet again. Volunteer
2 I
was barbequing for one of Making Kenora Home’s street picnics at the
Fellowship Centre. I
had just handed off the last of the burgers when this big fellow ambled
into the lot. I’m
fairly large myself, but he seemed to have almost a foot on me. He
came up to the barbeque grill that I was cleaning and asked for his
burger. It
was a toss up as to whether I felt worse because of the lack of food or
of this giant’s reaction to the lack of food.
Drawing a deep breath, I looked him in the eye (craning my neck
up to reach his eye) and informed him that the food was gone. He
took a step towards me. I
was caught between the big guy and the barbeque. Suddenly
he made his move. I
was pulled into a tight bear hug. As
I gasped for air, he released me.
Patting my back he soothed me with “It’s alright. Don’t
feel bad.”
Of course I felt even worse then. If
I was hungry and missed the meal, I don’t think that I would be
comforting the cook. Volunteer
3 I
was helping with the Christmas Sharing Circle. Because
music is so important to celebrating, we had two guitarists who had
volunteered to play for a seasonal sing-a-long. Asking
for requests, a woman slowly rose from her corner where she had been
nodding off.
She was battered. Her
face was bruised, and the jacket had fresh blood splatter across the
front. She
had a reputation for being tough, and from her knuckles, it looked like
she had got a few shots in also. Having
risen, she requested “O Holy Night.”
It was an unexpected choice. We
were thinking along the simpler lines of tunes like “We Wish You a
Merry Christmas.”
Her choice was a difficult one to sing because of the range
required and few knew all of the words. Respecting
her request, our guitarist began strumming. The
woman began singing. Each
word was clear. Each
note was perfect. The
beauty of her song silenced everyone around, including the musicians.
She continued a capella, never hesitating, never stumbling. The
song soared, and if your eyes were closed, it was a cathedral worthy
rendition. The
end came sharply. Still
no one spoke. The
woman looked around the room, giggled and said simply, “My dad used to
make us go to church and this was his favourite.” I’ve
never forgotten the unexpected beauty of her song in that moment.
I heard that she returned home after that. Volunteer
4 There’s this guy. He’s a big guy−almost hulk like. Every morning, he’s here. Lots of people are here regularly, but the unusual thing is what he’s here for. He waits every day for our opening because he wants to brush his teeth. He is absolutely passionate about it. He keeps his toothbrush here to protect it from loss on the streets. He is so pleased when that toothbrush is handed over and he speeds to the washroom with great enthusiasm. He can be cold, wet and hungry, but brushing his teeth comes first. His pleasure in life to have freshly brushed teeth. Everything else can be falling down in on him, but if his teeth have been cleaned, he faces it all with cheerfulness.
Volunteer
5 At
one of the street picnics held at the Fellowship Centre, a young mother
attended with her toddler. I
watched the very social young girl wander through the picnickers,
basking in all the attention given to her.
Several of the Centre’s clientele seemed to be resisting her
attempts to engage them in play. I
wondered why they also hadn’t fallen under her charm.
Finally one of the fellows asked permission to speak to her. I
was puzzled until he had explained.
He said that people were often afraid to let children near them.
“It’s as if we are animals that will hurt them.”
Later the same gentleman motioned me over.
He pulled a plastic baggie out of his pocket and carefully
smoothed it out so I could look at it. It
was a battered snapshot of a child-obviously worn by handling.
He smiled shyly and announced that this was his grandchild.
After hearing my appropriate admiration of the child, he shook
his head sadly. He
had not seen her for a long time, and he hurt over the loss of her.
Deliberately, he folded up the plastic wrap and replaced the
prized photo back into his pocket.
Unfortunately his loss was not so easily put away.
Volunteer
6 It was Christmas. The elder who was directing the celebration was insistent that Japanese oranges and candy canes be distributed during the party. She explained that
After
the distribution of greetings, gifts and treats, I looked around the
room and noticed an elderly man sitting in a corner.
Because he was alone, I watched to see if he needed anything. His
gift lay untouched beside him, and he held something that seemed to hold
all of his attention. I
shifted for a better view.
It was the mandarin orange and the candy cane.
He lifted up the candy cane and smiled.
It was a slow and wistful smile that reflected private,
pleasurable memories. He
nodded his head and slipped the candy into his pocket.
Next he took the orange into his hands and raised it to his face.
He sniffed and again, that same smile spread across his features.
Lowering
the orange, he began to peel it, stopping to sniff it as he progressed. All
the activity of the celebration swirled around him, but he had no
awareness of anything other than the peeling of that orange.
Finally he finished.
He examined the peeled fruit yet again, sniffing and smiling. Then
he began eating it, one segment at a time−satisfaction suffusing
his whole being.
I motioned over the elder. She
glanced in the gentleman’s direction and gave her own quick smile
acknowledging the scene.
“He’s tasting his childhood.” Then I understood the importance of the treats. Volunteer
7 He was an old guy who had seen hard years. He leaned into a corner of the room, avoiding contact. A special pancake breakfast was being held to celebrate Valentine’s Day. There were pink tablecloths and flowers laid out on the serving counter. It wasn’t meant to be an ordinary day, and he was obviously suspicious of the whole change in routine. While others smiled at the decorations and exchanged twitters of jokes and teasing about the romantic possibilities of the day, he held back. He had eaten standing up, hunched over his plate and quickly devouring the feast.
In
the midst of cleanup, a choral group arrived to surprise one of the
volunteers. His
wife had arranged for a song to be sung just for him as a special
Valentine’s gift. The
singers launched into their love song.
In the corner the old guy straightened up, listening intently to
the music.
As the singers launched into an encore, tears slipped down the
leathered face. Concerned, I went over to check on the gentleman. I touched his arm and he turned to me, “I’d forgotten” he said, “I’d forgotten about love.” He drew his sleeve across his face to wipe off the wetness of his tears. Lowering his arm, he continued, “The last time I remember Valentine’s Day I was a kid. It was so long ago.” The wrinkled face split into a toothless grin. “Thank you for helping me to remember.” |
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Staff
1 The
Fellowship Centre is a meeting place.
People come and go. Sometimes
they are travellers whose rides have failed. Sometimes the police bring
in people who can’t get back to their homes on winter nights. Sometimes
people come in from the far north to attend court or get medical
attention, and then they are released hundreds of miles from home
without a way to return.
Sometimes they are people who are just stuck in life. I
worry about what would happen to all of these people if the Centre
wasn’t here. What
would happen to all of these people? It is amazing how much talent comes through here. The art and music flows through the place. Everyone shares what they know, and we all grow. It is good to be in a place where nationality doesn’t matter and we care about each other. I like working here. It’s about being able to show the best parts of being human − caring, compassion and kindness. We don’t often get a chance to live this in the workplace.
The
sad part about this work is that the needs are greater than what we can
provide. We
need to expand the program. The
shelter is only part-time, but the need is full-time.
Staff
2 Our
longest resident was
Staff
3 One
of the joys of being a minister is being able to preside over marriages.
I
get to do that at the shelter and they are special events. One
of the weddings that comes to my mind was the marriage of two of our
regular patrons.
No one had expected either one of them to find love in their
lifetimes−each faced too many challenges just to survive.
On that day the bride was shyly glowing in her traditional white
gown.
The groom was boisterously proud in his suit.
The finery was used, but the chapel was decorated, and friends
and family came to attend the unexpected wedding. The
music was real, the soloist was in fine voice and everyone celebrated
this couple.
They still are regulars here and are still sweetly committed
together and against the odds.
Staff
4 After
the fuss of Christmas, many of our patrons feel the blues, so we started
having a get together to celebrate the New Year coming.
It became an annual event. This
year our neighbours from St. Alban’s joined us in the celebration. It
was a festive coming together of peoples from very different walks of
life.
It was so good to see our patrons sharing a good time with those
that they generally don’t interact with in daily life. Sometimes
the conversations took place between seemingly incongruous
combinations but that is what made it all so wonderful to watch. We
are finally beginning to talk and walk together as human beings should.
Staff
5 The
nicknames are funny. Everyone
seems to get one sooner or later−patrons, staff, volunteers. We
have Howard the Duck, Big Bird,
For more information on Making Kenora HOME, please visit our website: www.makingkenorahome.ca
The written permission of
Making Kenora HOME is needed before reproducing any portion of this
booklet. Published February 11, 2010
“As long as you live, there is Hope”
Published with the assistance of Kenora Patricia Child & Family Services during February 14 -20, 2010 |
