NEWSBYDOMINIC MAPSTONE

How should a homeless shelter be run? What attributes should a service worker have?

Let me present a hypothetical example relevant to my culture in Australia. Gordon Ramsay, the acerbic TV chef, has a reputation for being aggressive, sometimes rude, but without a doubt brilliant at what he does. His wife and the mother of his four kids, Tana, who I understand is more popular here than in the U.S., is thought of as gentle, elegant and loving.

With these public personas, how would each of them do at running a service for homeless people? If pitted against each other (perhaps in one of the reality TV shows that Gordon does so well), whose approach would win out? In Machiavellian terms, is it better to be loved or feared?

Let's assume that, given the challenge of administering services for homeless people, they'd adhere to their personas. Gordan Ramsay's shelter ("Hell's Shelter"?) would be efficient, challenging and professional. Tana's, on the other hand, would presumably be accepting, nurturing and patient. Where would you rather end up? Which one would help you leave homelessness faster?

My contention is that a third model where they both worked together would be the most successful.

Traditionally, caring for the have-nots has been left to governments that apply tax revenue to the needs of "the poor" while some charitable, usually religious, groups make up the difference (often with government grants).

This old model has served the political needs of government well and served the mission of church groups well. In many cases people have been helped in times of need by both government and the church-dominated charitable sector very well.

More recently, professional non-church service providers have emerged, often with the assistance of government funding but more significantly through charitable giving from the community and corporate sector. They have brought with them advancements in how to respond effectively to the more complex needs of homeless people, beyond food and shelter.

There have even been attempts by the for-profit sector to get in on the government dollars and provide services to homeless people, but their offerings, to my knowledge, have been very limited outside of fulfilling a contract to do A, B and C.

So which sector of support services has already and can in the future make the greatest difference in the lives of homeless people?

In Australia, where I live and work with homeless persons, the National Association for the Prevention of Child Abuse and Neglect (NAPCAN) reports that while almost 33,000 Australian children suffered some form of abuse last year, more than half the population would turn a blind eye when confronted with the signs.

The Australian Institute of Health and Welfare reports that 32,641 children were abused in the 2008-2009 reporting period. This is an increase of 1.7 percent over the previous year. (The population of Australia, as a reference point, is between 21 and 22 million.)

In the most populated state in Australia, New South Wales (including its capital of Sydney), the most common types of abuse were: emotional abuse (34.8 percent of cases), neglect (29.5 percent), physical abuse (19.6 percent) and sexual abuse (16.1 percent). Victims are most commonly four-years-old or younger.

It's hard to look at those numbers and then hear that in a survey of 22,000 people by NAPCAN, less than 50 percent of respondents said they would report physical abuse to a child (pdf). Even more unbelievable, only 34 percent of respondents said they would contact police if a child disclosed sexual abuse.

While most of the people surveyed agreed that child abuse was a serious issue, these are their reasons for not wanting to report abuse to authorities who could intervene: they might be wrong, they did not think it was their business, they did not know what to do and they did not want to admit that abuse happened.

Homeless support services are being revealed as incompetent when it comes to housing the newly-houseless. People who don't have complex long-term needs and could bypass homelessness completely (if not for eviction, foreclosure or the lack of affordable housing) are being let down by a system designed decades ago.

In fact, the here today/gone tomorrow client who doesn't have complex needs like substance abuse or mental health issues, and can pretty much bypass homelessness with a bit of help through a financial upheaval, is my dream client.

However, these so called "dream clients" who could easily skip homelessness continue to swell the homeless ranks the world over — and get let down by a system that isn't designed for them.

The global financial crisis has created an influx of individuals and families who are accessing support services for homeless people that were not designed to help those who've simply been laid off.

The bulk of homeless support services are designed for people in the "too hard to house" basket with the thought that they need to tread water in the homeless support sector for some time due to their complex needs.

From time to time someone I worked with in my capacity as a social worker calls to let me know how they are doing and to have a chat. The best calls are the ones that come out of the blue from formerly homeless people I haven't heard from in some years.

Believe it or not, some people just call up or drop in to catch up and say thanks for providing the support when they needed it.

I can only speak for myself but I have to say, I love hearing from people after they have moved beyond homeless life.

There aren't a lot of positives in the grind of life on the streets, or the climb out of that life. I've found that the burn-out rate for many people working in front line service provision with homeless people is around two years. This tells you that the positives of the job are also far and few between.

So it makes my month when a formerly homeless person who I helped out takes the time to call me (it could be years later) and let me know how he's doing and in some cases to say thanks for being there for him when he needed me.

One time a homeless friend called and asked to meet me at a homeless outreach service at a particular time. I was 10 minutes late and as far as I knew, he was a no-show. I waited around for a few hours and, since he wasn't there, I chatted with everyone else who was.

Six months or so later my friend was released from prison and put the word out on the street that I had ratted him out to the cops since I knew where he would be and when on the night that he was arrested.

As a social worker, it's very well-known on the streets that I am friendly with a lot of police officials and often get homeless people out of jams by leaning on those contacts.

So when the word that I was to be killed was passed around the heavy hitters — many of whom had benefited from me standing up to the police and looking after homeless people's interests — there was essentially an investigation launched on the streets by the homeless.

I was notified that I was to be killed for allegedly ratting on that person I had come into the city to meet up with, so the police could locate and arrest him. The homeless person who warned me initially of my place on the hit list was convicted a number of months later of torturing someone to death.

The simple allegation of being a rat has resulted in people being killed (with or without proof) in the past.

This was a particularly scary time for me once I found out I was to be killed. I desperately hoped I could clear things up and make sure it was known I wasn't a rat if only I could get in touch with the person who I was supposed to meet that night and clarify the situation with him.

The most frequently asked question I get when people find out I work with the homeless is, "Should I give money to beggars?" Some people contend that they are kind because they do give to the needy while others have strong negative opinions about the homeless and thus don't give often.

My answer is always: never give cash.

If someone asks for money for food, take him to a restaurant or a fast food joint and buy him a meal. If he asks for money for a bus ticket, go buy that ticket and hand it to him.

Realistically, most panhandlers never spend the money they beg for on the "story" they present you. In most cases it goes to alcohol, cigarettes or drugs. In many cities there are professional beggars who likely make more money than you do by playing off the good will of the public and by lying to them.

Some classic stories first world beggars use include: needing to travel to see a sick relative; needing to pay for their dog's vet bills; needing to get home. It's all BS.

One of my most priceless moments running a homeless shelter came when two residents who really didn't get along literally became each others' left and right hands. The woman was born with just one hand on one arm, only a stub on the other. That week, the guy cut one of his hands on a broken glass while doing the dishes. So it was stitched up, wrapped up and out of action.

It was their turn to work together and cook dinner for everyone. You would be amazed at how impossible it is to do anything when you only have one hand. So they worked together. It was a simple recipe: garlic prawns. Pretty simple to cook if you have both hands to work with, but really difficult if two people only have one hand each to contribute to the process.

He took the lead, telling her how to assist since she was the designated sous-chef (assistant) that night, but at one point she said, "So now you know how hard it is when you only have one hand." My biggest difficulty with him had been teaching him how to empathize. This was potentially a bonding moment with someone he had previously not respected nor gotten along with.

The problem wasn't that he was unable to gain insight into another person's perspective; it was that he was so angry with the world that he simply didn't care about the perspectives of other people. He simply trampled forward in his life regardless of other people. But he did acknowledge how hard it was with only one hand, so that was a big positive step.

One of her short comings was the inability to delay gratification, as in she wanted everything her way, the easy way, right now. So it was a priceless moment watching them cook together and be patient with each other and rely on each other every step of the way.

Everyone in the homeless sector wants things to be better for the homeless: more resources, more funding, more help.

There is a sub-section of homeless people, though, who don't want to be fixed or changed or mainstreamed. Sometimes they want some degree of support, sometimes they don't want any.

They just want to be left alone. At the very least they want service providers to understand that it's OK for them to be homeless and that that is where they need to be for now.

A friend describes my occasional need to be alone during times of extreme stress as "going into my cave." If I need to work something out I will go into my cave and think it out rather than talk it out. Maybe it's a guy thing, but I understand the need to retreat, to be left alone and let be, so you come out the other side in your own damn time and in your own way.

A number of homeless people are on the streets because they have experienced extreme stress or trauma. Some of them need to retreat from mainstream society. What they need most is time. And that's OK. But I don't think many service providers understand that.

This is the last of a five-part series looking at the lives of young people making the journey out of long-term homelessness at Hospitality House in Australia. Read previous posts here, here, here and here.

In my experience, few young people exiting long term homelessness are any good at closing the front door behind them. Why? Doors in squats are always open for a convenient escape. So that is one of the many things to get used to when moving out of squat living, and one of my great annoyances as so many of the residents find it very difficult to remember to close the front door when we come home.

Such is the norm after all, closing the front door when you come home. It's also a need for our organization as it is a house in the suburbs.

Sarah is good at remembering. But she struggles with another thing that can be hard to get used to after long-term homelessness — sleeping in a bed. On the streets, Sarah would sleep on rooftops, on shop awnings and so on since she was first on the streets at age eight. This afforded her safety and privacy.

More than a decade later, and while exploring exiting life on the streets with our help, sleeping on a mattress on the floor is as far as she has progressed in terms of sleeping in a traditional bed, which is fine. She doesn't have to conform to every social norm.

Is her progress only acceptable if she moves from sleeping on the floor to sleeping in a bed? No. I'd be just as happy for her to sleep on the roof of our house if that was what she was comfortable with.

She reminds me that one size does not fit all while moving off the streets. Service providers need to be more willing to adapt to the needs of their clients, rather than their clients having to adapt totally to the needs of the service.