The Heartbeat of the City - the Downtown Eastside
Bums. Whores. Druggies. Losers. Gross. Stinky. Disgusting. Lazy. Sad. Not my problem.
All words that I admit I've thought and said about the people of the Downtown Eastside. The DTES is Canada's poorest neighbourhood.
Growing up in the Lower Mainland we're all told to avoid the DTES because it's rough. Drugs, violence, mental illness, prostitution - it's all there and right out in the open. Just because you ignore it doesn't mean it will go away and in fact, the problem just keeps getting worse and worse. The government is making major cuts to social services and health care leaving our poorest and most vulnerable with nowhere to go but the street. The mainstream media paints the residents of the DTES as lazy people who just want to sponge off the system. At the corner of Hastings and Gore sits the First United Church; an organization and building that has been there for 125 years.
Last year our department made the decision that we wanted to do some volunteer work in the community as our team-building activity. A lot of the work my colleagues do is centred on community outreach but the DTES has not been on the list yet. We are very aware of how the institution we work for is viewed and know we have to be careful how we work with an organization. When I contacted First United, they were really on board with having us work with them and I was invited to come down and check our their operation.
When I walked down to First United I noticed how communal everything was - the residents all seemed to know each other (for better or for worse). Sure there are drugs and trash and other unsightly things around - people are strung out and twitchy and it's uncomfortable because you realize that you're the one who stands out. You're the one who's faceless. And maybe you get a bit of a sense of what it's like to be marginalized because now you're the one who's out of place. And then you walk into the facility and it's a hell of a lot rougher than any place you've ever been. Standing outside First United I thought "what have I gotten us into?" Homegirl was definitely out of her comfort zone.
Sure First United has had their share of issues and problems, but they are on the front lines in a neighbourhood that most would rather forget. They support the people that no one wants (the only rule in the facility is that there is no violence allowed). They provide shelter for men, women and couples. They provide around 1000 meals per day, they provide free dental work, they provide free showers, harm reduction packages, toiletries, clothes, condoms, foot care, therapies, they offer non-denominational spiritual guidance, mail pick-up and drop-off, storage, access to a telephone...afterwards we worked out a program where they'd integrate us into their daily operations. We helped them with administrative tasks, sorted toiletries, helped at the art stations and foot care circle (to help stop "street feet"). I got to participate in the lego station.
The lego station was set up next to the reception desk (a table with a massive amount of lego and tinker toys - it helps people relax and focus while they talk) so we had the chance to say hello to those who walked in and chatted while people waited. You know what was interesting? They all knew each other - they fought like family and they hugged like family. They were candid and friendly for the most part but some were skeptical and dismissive. The conversations were definitely bluer than usual - lots of frank talk about sex and drugs (I've never heard the words "suck cock" so much in my life). But we also talked politics, movies, philosophy and poetry. One woman told us her story of growing up in Newfoundland and how she made her way to Vancouver. She knew everyone who walked past hollering something inappropriate ("hey there buddy, I can think of something fun we can do upstairs!") and it was met with humour and/or annoyance and it was interesting to watch.
After we finished at the lego station we packed up and went and had lunch in the dining hall. Every Friday, one of the Sikh temples comes and serves a hot vegetarian lunch complete with delicious chai tea. By the end of lunch the residents were used to us and met us with laughter not skepticism. After our lunch trays were cleared we were finished and it was time to leave and go back to our regular lives.
So how do you measure the success of something like this? You can't quantify it. There isn't really anything tangible that you can see. We didn't change the lives of anyone down there (they barely noticed us) but we made a connection to the people of the DTES and that can only be measured in compassion and hope. And that's how our group left that day - compassionate and hopeful. As a Vancouverite, I want to see something done about the DTES. I want to see the government give a shit about people with mental illness. I want to see acknowledgement of the generations of people we have lost due to the residential school system. I want the people of this province to CARE about our neighbours and see that the residents of the DTES are someone's brother, sister, mother, father, uncle, cousin, friend...they mean something to someone somewhere and we're all only a few bad decisions/circumstances away from being in the same situation.
Inspired by the 4 short hours spent on the DTES - it's time to get involved! Stay tuned!
All words that I admit I've thought and said about the people of the Downtown Eastside. The DTES is Canada's poorest neighbourhood.
Growing up in the Lower Mainland we're all told to avoid the DTES because it's rough. Drugs, violence, mental illness, prostitution - it's all there and right out in the open. Just because you ignore it doesn't mean it will go away and in fact, the problem just keeps getting worse and worse. The government is making major cuts to social services and health care leaving our poorest and most vulnerable with nowhere to go but the street. The mainstream media paints the residents of the DTES as lazy people who just want to sponge off the system. At the corner of Hastings and Gore sits the First United Church; an organization and building that has been there for 125 years.
Last year our department made the decision that we wanted to do some volunteer work in the community as our team-building activity. A lot of the work my colleagues do is centred on community outreach but the DTES has not been on the list yet. We are very aware of how the institution we work for is viewed and know we have to be careful how we work with an organization. When I contacted First United, they were really on board with having us work with them and I was invited to come down and check our their operation.
When I walked down to First United I noticed how communal everything was - the residents all seemed to know each other (for better or for worse). Sure there are drugs and trash and other unsightly things around - people are strung out and twitchy and it's uncomfortable because you realize that you're the one who stands out. You're the one who's faceless. And maybe you get a bit of a sense of what it's like to be marginalized because now you're the one who's out of place. And then you walk into the facility and it's a hell of a lot rougher than any place you've ever been. Standing outside First United I thought "what have I gotten us into?" Homegirl was definitely out of her comfort zone.
Sure First United has had their share of issues and problems, but they are on the front lines in a neighbourhood that most would rather forget. They support the people that no one wants (the only rule in the facility is that there is no violence allowed). They provide shelter for men, women and couples. They provide around 1000 meals per day, they provide free dental work, they provide free showers, harm reduction packages, toiletries, clothes, condoms, foot care, therapies, they offer non-denominational spiritual guidance, mail pick-up and drop-off, storage, access to a telephone...afterwards we worked out a program where they'd integrate us into their daily operations. We helped them with administrative tasks, sorted toiletries, helped at the art stations and foot care circle (to help stop "street feet"). I got to participate in the lego station.
The lego station was set up next to the reception desk (a table with a massive amount of lego and tinker toys - it helps people relax and focus while they talk) so we had the chance to say hello to those who walked in and chatted while people waited. You know what was interesting? They all knew each other - they fought like family and they hugged like family. They were candid and friendly for the most part but some were skeptical and dismissive. The conversations were definitely bluer than usual - lots of frank talk about sex and drugs (I've never heard the words "suck cock" so much in my life). But we also talked politics, movies, philosophy and poetry. One woman told us her story of growing up in Newfoundland and how she made her way to Vancouver. She knew everyone who walked past hollering something inappropriate ("hey there buddy, I can think of something fun we can do upstairs!") and it was met with humour and/or annoyance and it was interesting to watch.
After we finished at the lego station we packed up and went and had lunch in the dining hall. Every Friday, one of the Sikh temples comes and serves a hot vegetarian lunch complete with delicious chai tea. By the end of lunch the residents were used to us and met us with laughter not skepticism. After our lunch trays were cleared we were finished and it was time to leave and go back to our regular lives.
So how do you measure the success of something like this? You can't quantify it. There isn't really anything tangible that you can see. We didn't change the lives of anyone down there (they barely noticed us) but we made a connection to the people of the DTES and that can only be measured in compassion and hope. And that's how our group left that day - compassionate and hopeful. As a Vancouverite, I want to see something done about the DTES. I want to see the government give a shit about people with mental illness. I want to see acknowledgement of the generations of people we have lost due to the residential school system. I want the people of this province to CARE about our neighbours and see that the residents of the DTES are someone's brother, sister, mother, father, uncle, cousin, friend...they mean something to someone somewhere and we're all only a few bad decisions/circumstances away from being in the same situation.
Inspired by the 4 short hours spent on the DTES - it's time to get involved! Stay tuned!
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