Homelessness Awareness Month

Feeding America is asking bloggers to post in the month of September about Homelessness Awareness Month. Since I am on the board of a soup kitchen in Boston, I thought I'd write about that.

The Friday Night Supper Program is in its 25th year of serving hungry and homeless people every Friday night in the basement of the Arlington Street Church. It was founded by the Church and Dignity Boston, a group of GLBT Catholics. It then became its own 501C3 nonprofit organization and has operated that way ever since. It has only two part-time employees and relies on volunteers to serve a nutritious meal to approximately 130 people each week. A Friday night has never been missed or cancelled, ever, in 25 years. Come rain, snow, hurricanes, holidays, power outages and more, Friday Night Supper is there.

The meal is served restaurant style. Guests begin with bread and butter and water on their tables and can go up to get coffee and juice and soup during the first hour. At 6 p.m., volunteers serve the meal to the guests at their tables, accommodating special requests for vegetarian options and other requests. As soon as the meal is served to everyone in the hall, the door is opened again to late comers, who receive a meal at the door as they come in. Dessert is also served to guests at their table at 6:30. Guests are welcome to spend time in the hall until 7 and then the hall closes so volunteers can clean up, sweep, mop, breakdown all the tables and chairs and do all the dishes. Without fail, all the volunteers leave by 7:30. It's like clockwork.

We serve guests who are homeless and those who live in subsidized housing or low-income housing. Some work, but many cannot for varied reasons. Some live only on disability or on social security. At the beginning of the month, our numbers are often lower, but come the end of the month, it can get very busy. On cold or rainy days, folks tend to stay longer in the hall, protected from the weather.

We also have a "Clothing Closet" which provides whatever we can to guests when we can. Clothes, shoes, socks, underwear, toiletries, and more are given out each week to folks with requests. Often, we cannot meet all the requests we get, and are constantly looking for donations. We always need men's things - we get about 90% male guests at the Program. If you have things to donate, let me know! Or, adopt FNSP for the holidays or for your birthday, and do a drive for us!

Homelessness is pretty horrible. Sleeping on the streets, on a bench, in an ATM vestibule are all risky, cold, and uncomfortable. People are homeless for lots of different reasons - many of them their own responsibilities, but many that are more luck of the draw than anything else. Undereducated, under resourced, under supported people struggle across the United States every day to be sure they can keep a roof over their heads.

Is running a soup kitchen solving the problem? Nope. It's not. We aren't doing any work at the root of the problem. We aren't working to change the source of the problem. But, for only $70,000 a year, we can serve about 7000 meals to people who can't wait for the system to catch up - because they are hungry right now.

Want to come volunteer with me? Let me know. You can come anytime! It's easy, fun, and rewarding.

And this month, when you walk past a homeless person, say hello. Or give the dude on the corner a dollar, even if you usually wouldn't. Or get your extras wrapped up at a meal and give it to someone who's asking on the street. Or, make a donation to a homelessness serving agency (FNSP!). Or volunteer. Before I served my first meal at FNSP in 2007, I had never worked in a soup kitchen or homeless shelter. I had no idea I would care so much. But I do. And you might too.

An Okay Spreadsheet

Life was not supposed to be this way. I'm not exactly certain what way it was supposed to be, but this isn't it.

I was looking forward to this weekend as I always look forward to a weekend during which I have nothing or almost nothing planned. My life is so busy and days or whole weekends with nothing in them are a blessing. These past few weeks have had me running, so knowing I had three whole days with nothing much to do had kept me going. And, as usual, this afternoon, seemingly from nowhere, I was hit with a bout of extreme loneliness, as I often am on three-day weekends during which I have nothing or almost nothing planned. A hideous Catch-22.

I have no idea how I have wound up in my late thirties and single. Absolutely no idea. It's as if it is calculus. That is how little idea I have about it. I don't know why this is my path, I don't know if I did something or a series of somethings to wind up here, I don't know if perhaps it is just fate.

I've learned quite a bit about Microsoft Excel over the past couple of weeks. (How did I get along this long without knowing the simplicity of formulas or that dragging a row that starts with "Monday" and "Tuesday" will autofill days of the week to infinity?) Tonight I was picturing my life like a spreadsheet with the bottom right "Total" cell being empty where "marriage" should be. All the experiences that supposedly lead to that are effected by some formula that adds up to it - in this spreadsheet. And then I am able to play around with scenarios, changing out a cell that says "Thailand" with a cell that says "staying put" or retyping a cell that says "Simmons" with a cell that says "URI" to see if the word "marriage" magically appears in that bottom right cell. But, even if I could have that grid on the screen, it's too late to change any of the cells. Time passed cannot be changed. It's wasted energy and wasted fantasy to even wonder about it.

It's been a good while since I thought about he-who-shall-not-be-named, and tonight I was besieged. A symptom of the loneliness of the three-day weekend, no doubt. I remembered, all of a sudden, that he knew he was being sent away on Army mobilization before he kissed me the first time. That he wooed me with great vigor, knowing all along that when he had me hooked he would then tell me he was leaving, pretending that he'd just learned it himself. How horrible. How really really horrible. The feeling of horror isn't as strong now as it was when I first came to know this nearly 8 months ago, but my disbelief is. It just sits on top of the pile of other disbelief I have. There are so many things I just cannot believe.

I cannot believe that I sleep alone each night. I cannot believe how long it has been since I had sex. I cannot believe that I am not allowed to care for someone as deeply as I wish to and have the capacity for. I cannot believe that nobody cares for me. (Friends and family do not enter into this equation.) I cannot believe that I wasted some number of years not caring about finding a partner. I cannot believe that still, today, I am very very shy and have a hard time engaging in conversations with men in many situations. I cannot believe that about half the time, I am rejected when I reach out to someone new and ask if they'd like to get a beer sometime. I cannot believe that more than half the time, when I do get a beer with someone, I find that I'd rather be talking to my roommate or reading a book than carrying on the conversation I am in. I cannot believe some of the people who I am connected to on FaceBook have found partners and I have not. I also cannot believe how rude that last statement is or how vehemently I feel it. I cannot believe how embarrassed I am sometimes to be like a broken record about my singleness to some of those around me. I cannot believe that both my siblings are married and both of my in-laws' siblings are either married or engaged. I just simply cannot believe any of it.

This disbelief is new. For a long while now, I've been actively engaged in looking for a partner. For him. Wherever he is. (I've always thought there are many "hims" who would be great for me, I use the singular for simplicity sake.) All these years that it hasn't worked, I've just thought I wasn't trying hard enough. Or perhaps I wasn't being forgiving enough. Or maybe I wasn't being charming enough. I always thought it was something fixable or make-able. Now I don't think that. I only know one other person who has tried this hard to find her partner, and she's now in a new relationship that I hope will work out for her. But everyone else? Not so much effort. (Don't get me wrong - the RELATIONSHIPS are effort - I know some folks with what I would consider an inordinate amount of relationship effort - but I mean the meeting part.) Why haven't I ridden up the chairlift with a guy who asks me out for a beer apres ski? Why didn't the guy in line at Chacarero that day - the one who I talked to the entire time about the Mango Mash soda I had chosen - ask me for my number? Why did the friend of a friend who I worked up the guts to email and ask out for a beer reject me so swiftly with a "no offense, but I'm not interested" response? I'm just not sure. Perhaps it IS me. Perhaps I'm like those people who audition on American Idol, whose family and friends should definitely have told them they cannot sing for shit. Maybe I am really not attractive and not good company and nobody ever tells me. It's possible. There's things I don't tell those in my life. Maybe everyone's been sparing my feelings for years.

All I know is that other people meet. And I seem not to meet anyone. I go through my days and nights, and I don't come across interesting people who are single. I am actively engaged in lots of things, and none of them bring me closer to anyone who I might end up loving. And so I go back to the disbelief.

Occasionally, I make a comment about how thankful I am to be single. Usually cheekily, in the wake of some idiocy someone's partner has done or said. And yes, it's nice to not have to ask anyone before I make plans or negotiate someone else's family on top of my own. But none of that, for me, is worth what it means I don't get. There are those who don't care about marriage; who see the single-person benefits as outweighing what one might get from a partner. I am not one of those people. I'm pretty sure all that compromise is most likely worth it in the end. Watching my parents for 36 years has led me to be this sure.

I've been very very scared for a while now that if I do end up alone for the long term, that it'll change me drastically in some way I cannot predict just yet. I cannot help but think that change will be negative. I work, though, to put support beams in place in the foundation of my life so that won't happen. I maintain friendships, I strive to be a very good aunt, I reach out to those who need help. I do all this because I care, but I also do it shore up my own dunes. To make sure that if I need the favor in reverse, it'll most likely be there. Because I might not have that person who HAS to be there for me, I need to fill up with people who would WANT to.

We singletons are not taken seriously sometimes. We don't have partners to drag us away, we don't have children to take up our time, some of us don't have houses to maintain. And so we are considered less than actually grown up. I feel this regularly. It is another thing I just cannot believe. How is it that someone who has been financially independent for 14 years, who put herself through graduate school, who travelled across the planet and back - how can this person not be fully adult? And yet, I am not. Now and then, I even treat myself that way.

As it often is when these kinds of thoughts enter my head, it is late right now. I cannot sleep. I am, 99% of the time, a very good sleeper. Yet, every six months or so the doubt-tapes begin playing and I can't make them stop. And tonight the result is this post. Perhaps before I make it go live, I should go back and re-read the few other posts about my alone-ness and make sure the broken-record tracks at least have a few different chords. I won't though. This is my story tonight, and so it shall be recorded. With a tiny bit of luck (and perhaps some more effort on my part), I'll re-read this the night before I am going to walk down the aisle and I'll laugh. Or I'll re-read it when I'm 66 and off to my brother's for Sunday dinner with his kids and his wife because I am the fun, single aunt who the kids can't wait to talk to, even though they are already graduated from college and one is engaged and I'll sigh for a moment, but of course, I'll be okay.

Because if there's one thing I always am, somehow, no matter what, it's okay. And that is what I assume is in that bottom right corner of the life spreadsheet right now, rather than it being empty - "okay".

Summer 2009

Me, Kelly, Ashley, Nikki, Becca, Allie and Youngmi during our AmeriCorps celebration trip to the Boston Harbor Islands, 2009.

Now a tradition, here is my 2009 "What I Did Over My Summer Vacation" Post.

-Went white water rafting in Maine - did my 2nd, 3rd, and 4th months of FitCamp (had to stop wearing my contacts in August because the sweat running into them was burning too much!) - trained to be a Civic Reflection Facilitator by the Project on Civic Reflection in Chicago - saw Away We Go with Maya Rudolph, John Krasinski, and Dave Eggers at the showing! - ran three 5Ks and one two-miler! - saw Kathy Griffin live - launched Never Cease Photography - met a cousin I'd never met before - was in the same room (albeit a giant conference center room) with Michelle Obama - visited San Francisco - ate lots of CSA veggies - grew zucchini, beans, radishes, cukes, basil, and lettuce - donated double red cells - spent another 4th of July at Cobbetts Pond - saw Michael Franti & Spearhead, twice - saw Goonies on the big screen at midnight - had an overnight in JP with the Clinton kids - said goodbye to 4 AmeriCorps staff members - and hello to 5 new ones - finally visited Burlington, Vermont - camped on the shore of Lake Champlain - went canoe/kayaking with mom and dad after getting rained out twice - presented a writing workshop to 6 little kids at 826Boston - went to a wedding in Kennebunkport, Maine, in which the groom promised during his vows to always love the bride, even if she was disfigured in a tragic shark attack - visited with the Dailey family - hosted my sister and niece for a sleepover at my house - went to 2 Sox games - got brand new $500 brakes - made 56 ounces of homemade pesto with the basil from my garden - was a First Thursdays artist in JP - thoroughly enjoyed myself as always!

Happy Labor Day Weekend!