What we can learn from The Soloist

I saw The Soloist last weekend and really enjoyed it.  It got mixed reviews - from the critics and our fellow Twitterers (Tweeters?), but I think its weaknesses are highly instructive for those of us interested in anti-poverty, homeless services and social justice work.

For those who don't know, The Soloist is the story of the relationship between L.A. Times journalist Steve Lopez and homeless musical prodigy, Nathaniel Ayers, a former Julliard student who suffers from schizophrenia and has been living on the streets of Los Angeles for years, likely decades.  They meet by chance in a downtown public park, and as Lopez pieces together Ayers's history and discovers his musical talents, he becomes overly invested in getting/letting Ayers's play music again and getting Ayers's off the street.  The movie's biggest (and glaring) weakness is its emphasis on Lopez's personal growth, but I think that's the part that's insightful for many of us do-gooders.  I also have to endorse any film that features permanent supportive housing.

One of the better aspects of the movie is the complexity of Ayers and Lopez's relationship.  As they get to know one another, Ayers takes to describing Lopez as "his god," which makes the latter squirm and makes explicit the obvious power imbalances and differing perspectives the two have of one another.  What Lopez represents is all of our best yet often misguided intentions - he paces around Lamp Community, the non-profit that works with homeless mentally ill to get them into permanent supportive housing, haranging the director about why Ayers isn't on medication, advocating for diagnosis-based medical treatment for Ayers as the director explains why, from experience, he has so little faith in diagnosis.  Lopez hooks Ayers up with a music teacher, who pushes Ayers too fast and uncomfortably as a devout Christian to painful ends.  Lopez limps around feeling morose and frustrated about Ayers's lost opportunities, even as the Mayor uses Lopez's columns about Ayers for political stumping and he wins journalism awards for his coverage.

What I got out of this movie was the clear reminder that there's a fine line between paternalism and empowerment in our work.  Lopez's ability to be present and loving in Ayers life as a friend is compromised by his need to "fix" him.  In the pivotal scene in the movie, he's so focused on saving Ayers that it blinds him to how Ayers takes care of himself in that moment - in a way impossible without Lopez in his life, but in a move still independent of him.

Whether or not you see this movie, you should educate yourself on the role of permanent supportive housing, which brings stability to chronically ill and/or homeless people's lives by providing safe, cost-effective housing first, with supportive services on top of that.  It's terrific.

Multiple L.A. Skid Row non-profits are featured in the flick:

To learn more about and support Lamp Community, click here.

To learn more about and support The Midnight Mission, click here.