Quite a Night

I need to process what happened tonight so I guess this is kind of like my journal entry:

So I just got back from work. And let's just say that what I did tonight definitely was not in the job description when I applied.

So a brief background first is in order. I have been working part time as a case manager at a new residential program for chronically homeless men with a diagnosed mental illness. Things have been pretty slow-going and there has been a lack of, well...everything. I got hired and was thrown into the deep end of the pool so to speak. I didn't receive any supervision, training, or direction whatsoever. So I've been trying to figure out what I am expected to do in a new program that is still figuring out basic policies and procedures. So to make a long story short, it hasn't been quite like I expected it to be and has left me feeling disappointed and frustrated at times. Yet, I'm thankful for the opportunity and the people that I am fortunate to get to know and work with.

Anyways, in the same facility as the program that I work for is a semi-large "community room" that is used for the overnight homeless men's shelter during the winter months. I am one of two people who are responsible for doing intake for the shelter every night from 8-10 pm, we rotate nights that we are on so that only one of us is on a night. The intake people are also responsible for dealing with any problems that take place during that time frame...and there was quite the problem tonight.

There is an individual, we'll call him Frank, who has been barred from using the shelter because of inappropriate and aggressive behaviors. Frank is someone who has been on the streets for years in Harrisburg because he has been kicked out of practically any program that he has been a part of...even programs that "don't kick people out." A few weeks ago, I spent about 20 minutes talking to Frank outside in the freezing cold (because he had applied to our program but was denied and was therefore not allowed in that part of the building) about his life and how hard he has it and how everyone is out to get him and that the world needs to adapt to him rather than the other way around (I'm paraphrasing here). Anyway, despite the fact that it was freezing cold, despite the fact that I was suppose to be inside at that moment, despite the fact that Frank was yelling at me for no reason, despite the fact that he was probably under the influence of drugs, the Lord spoke to me through Frank. I saw a man who was alone, hopeless, deranged, helpless, indeed un-helpable from what I heard. But I saw a human being. A person who has been denied by everything and everyone, a person who was at the mercy of his mental illness(es), a person that needed so much help but was so hostile to change and anyone who thought he needed to change.

Frank had been staying at the overnight shelter. He treated everyone horribly, even the nice, innocent volunteers who come to help and stay overnight with the men. He got into altercations and made threats to the other residents. He posed a threat to the overall safety of the shelter, where tensions already run high because of the limited amount of space in the room as well as the type of population that is occupying it. So I was casually notified by the other intake person via text one night that Frank is no longer allowed in the shelter. And the first thing I thought was, "Lord have mercy." Or something along those lines because I knew that Frank had no place else that would take him. The next thing I thought was that it could get dangerous if Frank was told that he wasn't allowed in the building. And naturally, I thought that I was going to be the person who had to deal with the worst of it, even though I had no part in the decision to bar him from the shelter. Unfortunately, I was right tonight.

The night was going relatively well. The coffee and snacks were all ready and most of the men had already been checked in and were settled into their sleeping places. Then Frank came to the door with a friend of his (who also stays at the shelter but hasn't caused any problems) expecting to be admitted. Now, Frank had already been informed of the fact that he would not be allowed back into the shelter several days ago. what made him choose this night to come and freak out rather than the last several I do not know. I just know that Frank was pissed. And uncontrollable. And inconsolable. And irrational. And livid. And threatening. And aggressive.

For about 10 minutes I stood outside, in the freezing cold again, as Frank yelled and cursed and threatened me. He demanded. He demanded to be allowed to stay overnight there. He demanded a written explanation as to why he would not be admitted. He demanded a lot of things. And so badly I wanted to allow him to come in out of the cold and have a place to sleep but I knew that I could not. I tried to calm him down. I tried to connect with him. I tried to de-escalate the situation (I never received any type of crisis intervention training. But I did read a pamphlet that we had in our office about it...better than nothing right?). I tried to help him understand that I was not his enemy. That I wanted to help him. That I wasn't going to let him sleep on the streets tonight. But he would not listen to anything I said. He was irrational. But for a paranoid schizophrenic under the influence of drugs who is facing yet another rejection and deep down afraid that he will freeze to death tonight on the streets if he cannot come in, how could he be rational? He is trying to survive.

I tried to remain calm. Nonthreatening. Compliant. Compassionate. On the outside I tried to appear calm and collected. But really I was terrified. I wanted to run and hide in a hole. I wanted someone else who knew how to actually deal with this stuff deal with it. I wanted to have a clue what to do.

I went in and out of the building a few times to get in contact with another emergency shelter that will only take people in emergencies. Well, they weren't answering their phone. Perfect. So at that point I was left with two options: call crisis intervention or call the police. Because I knew that there was literally no where else for Frank to go. But by some miracle, I called the emergency shelter one more time and the person picked up and after explaining the situation, said that they would take Frank for tonight. Thank God. Called a cab. It showed up in 5 minutes and, after one of the volunteers paid the fee to take Frank to the emergency shelter, Frank got into the taxi, still screaming at me as well as the other volunteers who had absolutely nothing to do with anything, and the taxi drove off.

But it's not good riddance. Frank is going to need a place to stay tomorrow night and I am pretty sure that the emergency shelter is a one-time deal. Frank needs drastic help. Why he is not in intensive psychiatric care I do not know. But I think that between prison and death, psychiatric care is the best option he has. And that is incredibly sad to say.

I just pray that Frank has a place to stay tomorrow night.

It's been, like, a year...I know

I'm sorry!

I know that you are all feasting on my every single word that I publish on this blog and the fact that I have not updated in weeks means that you are all extremely malnourished, or probably dead, from lack of sustenance. For that (your undernourishment or death) I do apologize. It is now the time that I give my excuses for not blogging in so long. Now, I don't like to made excuses, but I feel I must. Here goes:

Excuse #1.) I am busy. Like more busy than Barak Obama.

Excuse #2.) I am an extremely important person. Though I would rather be here with you, sharing my thoughts, I am required by my celebrity-like fame and status to make appearances and attend all the social pow-wow's so that I don't get bad talked in the media. You understand.

Excuse #3.) Excuse #2 is a lie (and the latter part of Excuse #1). I waste time not blogging by making up dumb excuses why I can't blog (see above).

Excuse #4.) I am currently working two part-time jobs, one of which employs me almost only during 2nd shift hours (2-11pm).

Excuse #5.) I am in the process of applying to graduate schools (more on that later). This is quite the time filler let me tell you.

Excuse #6.) I'm lazy.

Excuse #7.) I procrastinate.

Excuse #8.) I really like my girlfriend and really enjoy spending time with her.

Now, all excuses aside, I would like to talk a little bit about what's been going on in my life for the past month or so while I've kept you in the dark.

Probably the highlight of the past month or so, maybe not the highlight...one of the bright lights of the past month or so was when Katie took me to Philly (technically Upper Darby) to see a Ray Lamontagne show. It was an early b-day present, and boy was it a special one. I didn't realize until after the show that Ray is probably my favorite musical artist (I usually don't have a favorite...well, musical artist at least). I had been wanting to see him live for awhile and I finally got to see my favorite musical artist with my favorite human being (Katie). It was oh so special. However, there were quite a few drunk, college-age people around us who did their best to ruin the show for those around them that were less drunk and college-aged. For example, the couple directly in front of Katie and I made out for the majority of the concert. Well at least until the girl FELL ASLEEP. I don't know how much they spent on their tickets, but I know they weren't cheap for Katie and I (well, I guess just Katie. Thanks babe!). I don't have that much loose change hanging around to say, "Hey, maybe I'll throw-down 65 bucks for a Ray ticket so I can spend another $50 on alcohol, watch approximately 10% of the show and spend the rest of the 90% either playing tonsil hockey with my boyfriend or catching up on some much needed Z's. All so that I can remember 0% of it due to my inebriation." Maybe if I had some more cash hanging around this thought would go through my head more often. But until then.

Anyways, Ray was incredible. I think Katie summed it up nicely, "That man was made to make music." I agree.

Another great light during the recent past was my Thanksgiving celebration. It was quite different from the usual, but very special nonetheless. Also, coinciding (well almost) with Thanksgiving this year was my 23rd birthday. So that made it all the more special (because, how many times do you get to turn 23?) Katie and I were able to get a few days off work so we could head out to Youngstown, Ohio to spend Thanksgiving with Katie's family. Unfortunately, I was not able to see my family for Thanksgiving this year, and it was the 1st time that I celebrated Thanksgiving not in their presence, but Katie's family treated me like family and made my birthday and Thanksgiving a really wonderful experience. I mean, check this out: when we arrived at their house after driving for several hours, they had already been cooking a delicious meal for us, chicken Parmesan, which happens to be my favorite dish. Not only that, they baked me a cake, sang me happy birthday, and gave me a birthday gift. I never expected any of this. It was truly wonderful. It made being apart from my family a lot easier and really made me thankful that there are such cool people (rf. "Generosity") in the world, unlike the ones mentioned in an earlier post (rf. "Field of Screams").

So, I'd say those are the two highlights of the past month. Now, something that is exciting, but also at the same time quite stressful, is applying to grad school. Going to grad school to get my MSW( Master's in Social Work) has been a big goal of mine for the past 3 or 4 years. It was my intention to spend one or two years out of undergrad study until I begin graduate study. I guess I could only wait one year. This is all quite ludicrous when I think about the fact that up unitl my sophomore year at Westmont, the reality of going to grad school after college was just about as likely as me getting drafted into the NFL. But alas, here I am, applying to grad schools. The schools that I am applying to are Portland State University (in Portland, OR), Washington University (in Seattle, WA), Pittsburgh University (in Pittsburgh, PA...duh), and Temple University (in Philly, PA...not so duh). My number one choice is probably Portland State because I really like the program and I just would like to live in Portland for a time. Now, Katie is also applying to grad schools at this time to get her Master's in Counseling. We're applying to schools that are in the same area and we're both hoping to get into all of the programs we apply to (that would make it a lot easier to decide where to go). So we're both filling out applications, requesting official transcripts, asking for references, doing GPA calculations, and procrastinating on writing the essays that we need to submit. It's exciting, but it's stressful at the same time. Mainly the essay part. Especially because you know that a graduate admissions squad is going to be combing through that essay with a very fine-tooth, graduate school-like comb. I finally started on my personal statement today. And, naturally, I started off the essay addressing the 1st prompt: Influences in your life that led you to select social work as a profession, with a story from my life in which an episode of Family Guy influenced me to not want to be a social worker. We'll see how that works out...

Anyways, I should get going. I hope to write about the neighborhood that I live in and some other things that I have wrestled with/thought about a lot since moving here soon. Tomorrow I am taking Katie to NYC for an early birthday gift of her own. We're going to see "Ragtime" on Broadway. I am excited. I'll be sure to tell you how that goes.

Thanks for checking in. Love and Peace and Grace and Joy.