The Amazing J phoned yesterday to say that our friend with MS has found an apartment. She can afford the rent, it's in town, she can keep her cat, and it's not in bad shape. The apartment, not the cat. (J said she was thinking it needed painting. "It's a bit rundown. If it were my daughter..." But then the landlord told them he'd just painted it. So it's all relative.) The only hiccup is the last month's rent. They're going to see if any of the local agencies will cover that.
That would be awesome.
At the same time, we heard that W and her man might be losing their place. (The other week, W was grinning, showing off her new leg braces. Camo, baby. Camo.) I don't know why, but it's a problem. There's not a lot available locally. Apparently there's one more opening in the building J visited the other day, so maybe.
This morning, I was driving in the town next door and saw a former motelian walking with his son. The boy is probably going on 3; dad is in his early 20s, I think. The mother has moved back to the big city to live with her parents and the dad is doing his best to raise his son.
When the mom was pregnant, some of the team tried to connect her with a doctor, but she wasn't very good at showing up for appointments. When the baby was born, they had to move to somewhere else or the Children's Aid would have put him in foster care.
So they moved in with dad's parents. Then she left. For the next year and a half I'd see dad and son walking the streets of town, the little one in a wagon pulled by dad who had his guitar over his shoulder, heading off to busk somewhere.
Then, for some reason, he moved back into the Motel. Bad idea. 'They' came and took the boy.
Since then, dad's moved out and he seems to have his son back. Today they were heading downtown with dad, skinny and scruffy, pushing a stroller full of pudgy blond boy. I've never seen the boy walk anywhere. Just being pushed or pulled.
A young dad doing his best, a young mom who probably did the same, a little boy growing up.
It's tricky sometimes knowing how to be involved in the lives of marginalized people. How far to push, when to step back.
We've never had any training for any of this, but probably could have used some. Or at least advice.
There's one friend who is an ex-motelian. She moved out a while ago, and the friendship that had grown between her and some of the team has continued. She's a delightful person, warm and loveable, but even then - even when you're honest to goodness friends, enjoying each others' company as equals - things can get complicated.
This friend has a hard time saying no when people ask to 'borrow' money. So she lends too much and finds herself short near the end of the month. Needing groceries, or smokes.
So she'll vent to one of her friends on the team about how people suck when they borrow and don't pay you back.
So the team friend offers to lend her a bit, or buy her smokes or groceries.
She accepts the offer and promises to pay it back.
But she never does, because the same thing happens the next month.
Which is all difficult and complicated.
If I've got a lot more money than my friend, and my friend is in need, it's natural to want to help out. To lend, not necessarily expecting to get paid back.
The problem is that my friend is very bitter toward some other people who owe her. She says that people who borrow and don't repay suck.
Except that I've just put her in the same position. I've turned her into one of those people she despises. Someone who borrows and doesn't pay back.
But if I don't she goes hungry.
So what do you do?
We've always had a policy of sorts that we don't give anybody cash. It's a difficult one to live with, sometimes, but it's necessary. Or things get weird fast.
If a friend in need is a friend indeed, how do you define 'friend'? Somebody who gives you stuff? Or somebody who empathizes but keeps their wallet in their pocket?
Is it friendship to let somebody go hungry? Is it friendship to put somebody in a position where they're making promises you both know they can't keep?
We can't pretend that there isn't a have/have not dichotomy. We can't pretend to not have more when, clearly, we do.
I don't know. It's an unresolved issue that defeats any rules we'd like to make.
We're still working on it.
r
That would be awesome.
At the same time, we heard that W and her man might be losing their place. (The other week, W was grinning, showing off her new leg braces. Camo, baby. Camo.) I don't know why, but it's a problem. There's not a lot available locally. Apparently there's one more opening in the building J visited the other day, so maybe.
This morning, I was driving in the town next door and saw a former motelian walking with his son. The boy is probably going on 3; dad is in his early 20s, I think. The mother has moved back to the big city to live with her parents and the dad is doing his best to raise his son.
When the mom was pregnant, some of the team tried to connect her with a doctor, but she wasn't very good at showing up for appointments. When the baby was born, they had to move to somewhere else or the Children's Aid would have put him in foster care.
So they moved in with dad's parents. Then she left. For the next year and a half I'd see dad and son walking the streets of town, the little one in a wagon pulled by dad who had his guitar over his shoulder, heading off to busk somewhere.
Then, for some reason, he moved back into the Motel. Bad idea. 'They' came and took the boy.
Since then, dad's moved out and he seems to have his son back. Today they were heading downtown with dad, skinny and scruffy, pushing a stroller full of pudgy blond boy. I've never seen the boy walk anywhere. Just being pushed or pulled.
A young dad doing his best, a young mom who probably did the same, a little boy growing up.
It's tricky sometimes knowing how to be involved in the lives of marginalized people. How far to push, when to step back.
We've never had any training for any of this, but probably could have used some. Or at least advice.
There's one friend who is an ex-motelian. She moved out a while ago, and the friendship that had grown between her and some of the team has continued. She's a delightful person, warm and loveable, but even then - even when you're honest to goodness friends, enjoying each others' company as equals - things can get complicated.
This friend has a hard time saying no when people ask to 'borrow' money. So she lends too much and finds herself short near the end of the month. Needing groceries, or smokes.
So she'll vent to one of her friends on the team about how people suck when they borrow and don't pay you back.
So the team friend offers to lend her a bit, or buy her smokes or groceries.
She accepts the offer and promises to pay it back.
But she never does, because the same thing happens the next month.
Which is all difficult and complicated.
If I've got a lot more money than my friend, and my friend is in need, it's natural to want to help out. To lend, not necessarily expecting to get paid back.
The problem is that my friend is very bitter toward some other people who owe her. She says that people who borrow and don't repay suck.
Except that I've just put her in the same position. I've turned her into one of those people she despises. Someone who borrows and doesn't pay back.
But if I don't she goes hungry.
So what do you do?
We've always had a policy of sorts that we don't give anybody cash. It's a difficult one to live with, sometimes, but it's necessary. Or things get weird fast.
If a friend in need is a friend indeed, how do you define 'friend'? Somebody who gives you stuff? Or somebody who empathizes but keeps their wallet in their pocket?
Is it friendship to let somebody go hungry? Is it friendship to put somebody in a position where they're making promises you both know they can't keep?
We can't pretend that there isn't a have/have not dichotomy. We can't pretend to not have more when, clearly, we do.
I don't know. It's an unresolved issue that defeats any rules we'd like to make.
We're still working on it.
r
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