Guest Blog, Ben Robb: "We have to let you go..."

Ben Robb is a valued friend and colleague of mine at the mission. Over a lot of hard-earned caffeine, I found that I really enjoy Ben's insights and passion. Today, I hope you will too. (Go get 'em, Ben!!)

"We have to let you go ..."

What would you do if you and your spouse both lost your jobs today?

I suppose you'd feel stressed. You'd pray, perhaps. You'd certainly spruce up the resumes.

And then you'd call people. People you trust. People who care about you, want the best for you, would watch for new opportunities and mention your name.

You'd activate your network ... And you'd probably be just fine.

Positive relationships are easy to take for granted--building them comes naturally to most of us. But imagine if all your friends were living below the poverty line. Imagine that many of them were looking for work, too. Imagine that they all lived in small apartments, that none of them had a spare bedroom.

Then what would you do if you and your spouse both lost your jobs?

Imagining life with a different set of relationships makes it easier to see why approximately 800 single mothers are currently living with their children in their cars in the Pikes Peak Region, doesn't it?

You may have read Sarah's story in our recent newsletter (if not, get caught up here)--until recently, she was one of those homeless single mothers. She's also Springs Rescue Mission's first participant in a new program we're calling the Family Mentor Alliance. Here's the concept in a nutshell:

What we're doing to help

Homeless families have a short-term need: shelter. We're currently in the process of developing a safe place specifically for families with children--more on this in another post.

Homeless families have two primary long term needs if they are to avoid ending up on the streets (or in their cars) again--education and relationships.

We seek to meet their long term needs through the Family Mentor Alliance by matching them in a mentoring relationship with members of a local congregation. Our goal for all of the families we work with is self-reliance.

When I met Sarah, she was several months into her time in the family Mentor Alliance and was preparing to move out of transitional housing and into her own place. Committing to a rent payment for the first time in years, she was understandably stressed about the move. But her mentors were helping her.

Honest help doesn't always feel good. Sarah told me about arguing with these folks because the place she originally picked out was over budget. Together, they adjusted expectations and found something smaller, something sustainable. She told me about crying in her living room because her mentors were pushing her not to try to squeeze all of her stuff into the new space, which was smaller than her transitional housing, too.

These guys fought. They cried. They built real relationships--long term relationships. And Sarah has finally  gained some positive momentum for herself and her children.

Why this matters to me

Sarah's mentors are faithfully walking her through a wonderful spiritual curriculum and investing in her family in numerous ways. But it's the everyday stuff that makes all the difference in the long run. It's the positive relationships that matter.

I've worked for a few different non-profits over the last 11 years. Some of them have had a difficult time quantifying their long term outcomes. In my experience, the reason has been that the organization didn't build long term relationships. They might talk about reaching an inordinate number of hurting people (reach is a media term), but they haven't invested the months or years that it takes to walk people through the meaningful and sometimes mundane decisions that actually get lives back on track. And there's nothing more important.

Why it should matter to you, too

You give money to non-profits every year. If you're funding folks whose aim it is to get lives back on track, make sure they develop long term relationships with the people they're helping, whether it's through counseling, casework, or education. There's no substitute for long term, positive relationships.

If you want to help a family, a neighbor, a coworker, or the guy panhandling on your street corner, develop the relationship. There's no substitute for you.

Finding the Music

A few weeks ago my wife Annie and I visited my mother, who is progressing into the final stages of Alzheimer’s in a care facility in my hometown. We were able to take the time to help feed her dinner that evening.

Before I was born, Mom was winning journalism awards. She was an accomplished jazz and ragtime pianist as well as the church organist for many years. She was a source of great inspiration and practical help for me in writing and music. (Of course! She’s my mom!) In recent years it has been brutal to watch her lose both her way with words and her way around the ivories. 

Midway through the meal, Mom shoved her cafeteria plate out of the way and started drumming her fingers on the table, moving her arms to her own cadence. Annie and I turned to an attendant who shrugged his shoulders and said, “Every once in a while, it happens.”

We listened and watched for a few moments. Then Annie whispered, “Steve, she’s playing the piano.” And with that hint, it only took me about four measures to recognize the rhythm of a pretty sophisticated ragtime standard Mom had played at social clubs, family gatherings and at home for 60 or 70 years, I’d guess. One of her favorites and one of mine, too.

I leaned over and spoke softly, “You go, girl! Zez Confrey[i] is a lot of fun, isn’t he?”

Mom nodded and kept “playing.” A few moments later she suddenly stopped, looked at me almost in panic and whimpered, “Where’s the music?” Mom knew something important was missing; that there should have been different results coming from the effort she was putting forth.

That feeling like there should be different results from one’s efforts is all too common among the neighbors we serve at the Mission.

Will has training and experience as a groundskeeper. He’s a veteran. Yet he lacks education, and his drinking has hurt him both physically and psychologically. He came to our Resource Advocate Program (RAP) a couple of months ago to apply for food stamps and to get a free cup of coffee. He took steps to become more self-sufficient, trying to more fully engage the social net that the Pikes Peak Region can offer. He kept applying for jobs with no success, and he had reasons why: “The economy’s just too tough… I just can’t find the people who truly appreciate what I do… I’m a hard worker, but that doesn’t matter anymore.”

Just as Mom needed a piano to achieve her desired results a few weeks ago, Will needed something more to achieve his desired results: sobriety. Ongoing encounters with his RAP case manager made it clear that his problem was not the economy, but his drinking. He was going through many of the “right” motions, but without clear progress toward sobriety, he’d never find the results he wanted.

So he’s making the changes he can to move toward the reality that is sobriety. Will’s attending AA. He’s voluntarily entered a local intensive outpatient treatment and moved into a halfway house with peers who will keep him accountable.

Will shows us the AA coins that mark new milestones of sobriety when he drops by. The clouds have left his eyes. There is greater clarity in his thinking. Now he takes responsibility for his situation.

It isn’t over yet, but Will is getting what he needs to find the music.

---

[i] The composer of Kitten on the Keys and a lot of other ragtime songs of the 1920s and ‘30s.