We had an impromptu meeting after Dinner tonight. A few items of business to discuss.
And not the fun kind of business. Problems from several different directions.
I'd already had a difficult week. Tried to rebuild a bridge that had been torn down a couple of years ago. Had a long conversation with the principals, and realized that my bridge was being dismantled from the other side of the gap as fast as I could glue the sticks together. Left me feeling sad and deflated. It takes an awful lot of energy and courage-summing-up to reach out like that and when it fails, it takes a while to recover.
Which is why I was hoping for an evening like last week.
Last week, once most of the people had gone, a half dozen or so of us hung around while three women took in hand a big pink teddy bear that's been living among the donations. He's been there for months and nobody seems to have need of such a critter. So they decided he ought to at least get dressed. A few of us watched while these women in their 50's and north laughed and dug through boxes and piles of stuff to find a straw hat, a purple scarf, a toque, a t-shirt, a pair of shorts, some rubber boots and a pair of gloves and giggled like kids dressing up the pudgy pink dude.
The rest of us chatted and relaxed and SW serenaded us on the poor old piano. He even gave me a hug before I left.
Mr. Bear was still dressed that way this week, presiding benignly over everything, propped up on a coffee table at the other end of the room. Nice work if you can get it.
Last week was the last week under the old ownership. Since then, CL's had her keys taken and a team of young men has moved into the main house while they work at cleaning up the place. CL figures there've been 7 or 8 dumpsters taken away full of furniture even the poor didn't want. The swimming pool's almost empty as are the old cabins. The tower and base are all cleared out (a lot of that was clothing) and the rooms with caved in-roofs are getting the same treatment.
Our space is unchanged so far (except for the locks). There was a rumour that we'd have running water this week, but it hasn't panned out.
One of many rumours. The old manager collected the rents for March and skipped town. The new manager told everybody that the first month's rent was free. They're kicking everybody out. They're letting everybody stay.
Which was part of what we discussed at our meeting. A bit of a people problem. We've got one regular at Dinner, BC, who's a gossip. And when he's telling you something, he's so engaged in what he's saying that you think it might just be true.
A few weeks ago, BC got one of the other regulars kicked out of the food bank. Told the person on duty that the other guy was cheating and the volunteer believed the tattler rather than the defendant. Of course, when you're standing in line at the food bank, you're presumed guilty to start with.
More recently he went to a soup kitchen being run by one of our Dinner providing churches and told the pastor that Dinners were canceled and there would be no more meals. He's also apparently been through the population of the motel, informing them that they'd better get out because the place is coming down.
He's causing a fair bit of anxiety among the residents, which brought us to the question of what to do. CL has already told him off, using some "swearwords I didn't know I knew." It didn't help. So one of us is going to try a private conversation and see where that gets us.
If it doesn't help, we'll be looking at some kind of discipline. I'm extremely reluctant to ever tell anyone that they can't come to Dinner. We've had some nasty behaviour over the years and it's never come to that. Threats once or twice, but not actually having to do it. When people are that marginalized, I can't imagine kicking them out of what community they've got. Especially when they're not particularly liked in the first place. That just makes it seem worse.
One alternate suggestion was to make him go to the back of the dessert line. I liked the sound of that. Partly because it demonstrates two things: how well we know this guy (he'd probably cry), and the power of butterscotch.
The second item on the agenda was take-outs. We've always had take outs. From day one. I can still see in my mind one guy who, every week, would scurry in the door, fill his pockets (literally) with anything that looked like fruit or cookies, and run back out again.
We've had people who had to leave for work, people who weren't home from work yet, people who were sick. And take outs were fine for those situations.
The problem is when somebody wants Dinner, but can't be bothered coming to get it themselves. Often it's at the beginning of the month when there's still money left, and somebody's having a party in their room. Half a dozen friends sharing what they bought when the cheques came and it occurs to them that it's Dinner time.
So we'll see one person come in, fill a couple of plates and leave. Then come back a few minutes later and do the same thing.
And again when dessert is served.
It gets noticed by everybody that's hoping there'll be leftovers to take home for tomorrow. And it's resented.
Which leaves us needing to have a chat with somebody, or put up a sign, or make an announcement.
The final thing we talked about tonight was how we can better help our church groups understand the dynamic we work within.
I've mentioned this before, but it continues to be a surprisingly big stumbling block. The simple idea that you're not there to stand behind the table and serve. You're there to provide the meal, set it up, then move out of the way so people can move down both sides of the serving table and fill their own plates. By which time you should be standing in line chatting, filling your own plate and finding a seat. Not hovering on the wrong side of the table.
But, more with some groups than others, we get little clusters of people standing behind the table holding serving spoons. Supervising, watching, analyzing. Missing the point.
It's one of those "vision leaks" things. We have to keep reminding, reinforcing, pushing the point. It's about dignity, equality, sharing.
Maybe it's the Protestant work ethic. Maybe it's discomfort at being among the different. Maybe it's a need to control resources. Maybe they're afraid they'll be mugged. Whatever it is, we've got a few ideas about pushing back against it. Gently. Humbly. But firmly.
And if we fail, maybe Mr. Bear can sort them all out.
r
And not the fun kind of business. Problems from several different directions.
I'd already had a difficult week. Tried to rebuild a bridge that had been torn down a couple of years ago. Had a long conversation with the principals, and realized that my bridge was being dismantled from the other side of the gap as fast as I could glue the sticks together. Left me feeling sad and deflated. It takes an awful lot of energy and courage-summing-up to reach out like that and when it fails, it takes a while to recover.
Which is why I was hoping for an evening like last week.
Last week, once most of the people had gone, a half dozen or so of us hung around while three women took in hand a big pink teddy bear that's been living among the donations. He's been there for months and nobody seems to have need of such a critter. So they decided he ought to at least get dressed. A few of us watched while these women in their 50's and north laughed and dug through boxes and piles of stuff to find a straw hat, a purple scarf, a toque, a t-shirt, a pair of shorts, some rubber boots and a pair of gloves and giggled like kids dressing up the pudgy pink dude.
The rest of us chatted and relaxed and SW serenaded us on the poor old piano. He even gave me a hug before I left.
Mr. Bear was still dressed that way this week, presiding benignly over everything, propped up on a coffee table at the other end of the room. Nice work if you can get it.
Last week was the last week under the old ownership. Since then, CL's had her keys taken and a team of young men has moved into the main house while they work at cleaning up the place. CL figures there've been 7 or 8 dumpsters taken away full of furniture even the poor didn't want. The swimming pool's almost empty as are the old cabins. The tower and base are all cleared out (a lot of that was clothing) and the rooms with caved in-roofs are getting the same treatment.
Our space is unchanged so far (except for the locks). There was a rumour that we'd have running water this week, but it hasn't panned out.
One of many rumours. The old manager collected the rents for March and skipped town. The new manager told everybody that the first month's rent was free. They're kicking everybody out. They're letting everybody stay.
Which was part of what we discussed at our meeting. A bit of a people problem. We've got one regular at Dinner, BC, who's a gossip. And when he's telling you something, he's so engaged in what he's saying that you think it might just be true.
A few weeks ago, BC got one of the other regulars kicked out of the food bank. Told the person on duty that the other guy was cheating and the volunteer believed the tattler rather than the defendant. Of course, when you're standing in line at the food bank, you're presumed guilty to start with.
More recently he went to a soup kitchen being run by one of our Dinner providing churches and told the pastor that Dinners were canceled and there would be no more meals. He's also apparently been through the population of the motel, informing them that they'd better get out because the place is coming down.
He's causing a fair bit of anxiety among the residents, which brought us to the question of what to do. CL has already told him off, using some "swearwords I didn't know I knew." It didn't help. So one of us is going to try a private conversation and see where that gets us.
If it doesn't help, we'll be looking at some kind of discipline. I'm extremely reluctant to ever tell anyone that they can't come to Dinner. We've had some nasty behaviour over the years and it's never come to that. Threats once or twice, but not actually having to do it. When people are that marginalized, I can't imagine kicking them out of what community they've got. Especially when they're not particularly liked in the first place. That just makes it seem worse.
One alternate suggestion was to make him go to the back of the dessert line. I liked the sound of that. Partly because it demonstrates two things: how well we know this guy (he'd probably cry), and the power of butterscotch.
The second item on the agenda was take-outs. We've always had take outs. From day one. I can still see in my mind one guy who, every week, would scurry in the door, fill his pockets (literally) with anything that looked like fruit or cookies, and run back out again.
We've had people who had to leave for work, people who weren't home from work yet, people who were sick. And take outs were fine for those situations.
The problem is when somebody wants Dinner, but can't be bothered coming to get it themselves. Often it's at the beginning of the month when there's still money left, and somebody's having a party in their room. Half a dozen friends sharing what they bought when the cheques came and it occurs to them that it's Dinner time.
So we'll see one person come in, fill a couple of plates and leave. Then come back a few minutes later and do the same thing.
And again when dessert is served.
It gets noticed by everybody that's hoping there'll be leftovers to take home for tomorrow. And it's resented.
Which leaves us needing to have a chat with somebody, or put up a sign, or make an announcement.
The final thing we talked about tonight was how we can better help our church groups understand the dynamic we work within.
I've mentioned this before, but it continues to be a surprisingly big stumbling block. The simple idea that you're not there to stand behind the table and serve. You're there to provide the meal, set it up, then move out of the way so people can move down both sides of the serving table and fill their own plates. By which time you should be standing in line chatting, filling your own plate and finding a seat. Not hovering on the wrong side of the table.
But, more with some groups than others, we get little clusters of people standing behind the table holding serving spoons. Supervising, watching, analyzing. Missing the point.
It's one of those "vision leaks" things. We have to keep reminding, reinforcing, pushing the point. It's about dignity, equality, sharing.
Maybe it's the Protestant work ethic. Maybe it's discomfort at being among the different. Maybe it's a need to control resources. Maybe they're afraid they'll be mugged. Whatever it is, we've got a few ideas about pushing back against it. Gently. Humbly. But firmly.
And if we fail, maybe Mr. Bear can sort them all out.
r
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