| ALIVE Someone kissed you on the lips The rain came down on your head The breakfast you ate warmed you up You enjoyed watching TV You are alive The sun woke us up today We were bright and early There's more good news than bad today Our family and friends support us We are alive I wanted to sing so I did I wanted to write so I did I wanted to relax and I am Yes I am I am alive - by Laura The Common Room Cards laid down on a table. Faces looking up Into eyes looking down. We meet somehow, In the shawl of a net, Skirmish like aquatic life. The common room is a beach of ideas Where we hear ourselves in a seashell. - Kevin Nickerson An e-mail Letter to Mel Lastman: Hi Mel, I would like to speak in support of OCAP's "Safe Park" Campaign. I think it's a really excellent idea. When people become homeless, and are kicked out of or barred from restaurants, coffee shops, and community centres, when the hostels are full to overcrowding, all they have left is the park. As you know, Kerry and I were homeless in 1987, so I know what I'm talking about. Homeless people have a right to sleep, they have a need to sleep, as we all do. If they can't sleep in the park, where are they supposed to go? I hope you're not the one authourizing the cops to go in and hassle these people and throw out the only possessions they have in this world. If that is you, expect me to vote for you in the next municipal election. People cannot keep constantly moving, they have got to rest sometime. You know what happens to the body when it is sleep-deprived. That's how people get sick, could also die from sleep deprivation. Homeless people not only suffer from sleep-deprivation, they also suffer from stress, because they never know when the cops are going to come in and kick them or beat them up and throw out their belongings. You and I both know what stress does to the body. So, when you combine sleep- deprivation with stress, you have a serious health problem. It's no wonder homeless people go mad. That kind of situation would drive anyone mad. How would you like it if you were sleeping peacefully and someone kicked you in the ribs to wake you up and forced you to move on? How would you like it if said person also took every-thing you have in this world and threw it in the garbage? I imagine you would be pretty devastated. I know I would be. I would fight to the death to defend my possessions and my right to sleep. I urge you to support OCAP's "Safe Park" Campaign. Homeless people desperately need a place where they can sleep and get the rest they need. They deserve to be treated like normal human beings. They have lost so much already, please don't take their dignity away. If we were deprived of the chance to sleep and rest, the right to use a public washroom, the right to sit in a public place, the right to associate with our friends, and the chance to just be, there would be riots in the streets. All these people want is to be respected and to be treated like everyone else. The only difference between them and you is an address. If we can't give them an address right now, let's at least give them a park that they can call their own. Come on, Mel, do what you know in your heart is right, support OCAP's "Safe Park" Campaign. Thanks, Mel. -- Bonnie Briggs ...And a Reply: Dear Ms. Briggs: We are in receipt of your e-mail of June 26, 1999 with respect to over night stay of our homeless people in the parks. Mayor Lastman has made note of your comments. The Mayor's office has taken the liberty of forwarding your concern to Ms. Shirley Hoy, Commissioner of Community & Neighbourhood Services as well as Ms. Claire Tucker-Reid, General Manager of Parks & Recreation for their information and any necessary action. Accordingly, I am sure they will address your concern directly. On behalf of Mayor Lastman, I would like to thank you for taking the time to write and for sharing your views with us. Mayor Lastman wishes to extend his warmest personal regards to you. -- Cordially, Megan Giulianelli Customer Service Assistant for Mayor Lastman NOTES FROM HOLLYWOOD NORTH = N I G H T G U Y S = Work as a security guard does not require a Ph.D. You basically have to have a pulse and be able to write most of the alphabet. In my work as a maintenance/security guard in Hollywood North, I've found that the modest requirements for employment attracts a fair number of souls who have not been able to nine to five it. I am one of these creatures. Let's be honest, many weird loners do the security gig. We are marginals, thin-skinned outsiders, and out and out losers. We were not properly socialized. We cling to the hull of the movie business like barnacles or zebra mussels. We're a genetic pool that is not deep or maybe to deep. We're not the sharpest tools in the shed. We mostly watch stuff, but in a pinch we can lift stuff from one place to another, and check on stuff. Security guys are divided into two groups – day dudes and night guys. Though I belong to the former group it is the latter that interests me. The night guys represent to me a concentration of all the gnarly elements of fate and character that can bring a person to security work. Nobody starts out his or her lives wanting to be a security guard. No child has ever been heard to exclaim, "When I grow up I want to be a security guard!" No. This gig is something you stumble into through your own unfortunate process of elimination. Night guys, guys who work only nights, the real deal, are a breed apart. They embody the best and the worst of the species securitus guardus. In the security company I work for, the ultimate Night Guy is the Ice Man so named for his tolerance of sub-zero weather. He is reported to be a computer genius and be totally inept with human interaction. Another Night Guy is from somewhere in Southern Europe. He is deeply religious. It does not take much for him to bust out a cheap guitar and accompany himself as he sings a few bars of "Michael Row Your Boat Ashore" or, heaven forbid, the old Negro spiritual, "Amazing Grace". Once in an amazing turn of conversation this man revealed to me that he had a strong fascist strain in his family background from WWII. He told me that I should be afraid of him. He tilted his head to his right shoulder and opened his eyes wide. Buddy looked pretty sick. Another of our Night Guys drove a dog poo-colored Cadillac that was packed with coolers of pop and bags of food from the home he shared with his mom. He wore a lot of gold jewellery and claimed to be from Europe, but he wasn't. He loved the word motif. I asked why he drove a Cadillac to a security gig. He revealed that he was an investor in the stock market and did security work for extra cash. Humm. I noted his aura of madness burning deep under ground. I guessed that at some point it would surface. His saving grace was his supposed technical proficiency in truck maintenance. He was fired for crashing a camera truck into another truck. Another of our Night Guys, a tall shaven headed guy, is an expert on the Bermuda Triangle. As far as his is concerned, the "BT" is a point of energy that influences everything from homelessness to economic upheaval to the "threat" of Y2K. Yet another of our Night Guys is a dead ringer for Errol Flynn, that old movie star, but with gray hair, a somewhat misaligned body, and a taste for profanity. When talking to this man for any length of time, he begins well enough but he always ends with a story of confronting some "idiot" or "moron" and describing the potential for retribution. In full flight, he can barely stop himself from cackling bitterly, dancing about, and howling with a cigarette dangling from two yellow claws. At those moments, he's nothing if not a failed werewolf. Last but not least is the guy with the smoke, Doobie. He has supply. He's old school and likes to share his bud. One night he tried to share his crop with a neophyte Night Guy who was really a Day Dude in disguise. As they spoke Doobie revealed himself as an expert with an encyclopaedic knowledge of "guerilla" weed growing, plant management, and hydroponic gardening. He also spoke of hemp farming and why the holy herb should be legalized. But as he spoke I could not shake the feeling that Doobie was somehow brain damaged from years of use. More unsettling was the feeling that I was shaving points of my modest I.Q. Though I didn't smoke, I did inhale. I also had the feeling that through our exchange I had an insight into The Way of the Night Guy. It may be an altered state in which the mules of genius and madness gallop through the small hours of the night. In Hollywood North while the American stars and the overworked Canadian production crews sleep, the Night Guys are watching the orange pylons and the hulking white trucks. Who knows what careers careen through their heads? Who knows how deeply their gnarled characters wrestle with demons? Who knows how far they range into the strange countries of sleep? It seems to me that the ranks of Night Guys will never thin, there is always someone out there who needs to be out there under the cover of night; there is always some misfit who fits the description of Night Guy. Even the seriously weird need work. - Oswald Phills - Everybody Wants 2 Bee A Somebody Not A Nobody Do you remember nobody? Why not? Because everybody wants to stand out if you know what I mean. In order to be somebody you have to be different than everybody else. Who remembers nobody walking down the street? No one! But when somebody walks down the street everyone stops and stares. Here comes somebody swaggering and doing their thing - whatever that is. Mr. Muscleman with biceps as big as my head. He isn't too bright but muscle tight and quite a sight. Here comes Mr. Alternative who is very cool, coloured sunglasses and his hair coloured orange and blue, nose ring and covered with tatoos, far out. Here comes my favourite of them all, Mr. Latex. How he got into his rubber pants I do not know, as they are so tight it must be a fright to get them on. The rest of his body is covered in tatoos from head to toe. He has a dog collar on his neck with a tag in case he gets lost, which reads, take me home and treat me right and I will serve you day and night. I'll cook you breakfast and wash your floors and if it pleases you sir I'll even wash your doors. --- Notes by Ron the Watcher Abandoned I look at my life and I feel so old, Yet I am a young woman, it's just life's been cold. I never expected to end up in this place, I never thought I would wear this unhappy face. I never wanted to grow up poor, I never wanted to be thought of as a whore. When he said he loved me, I did believe, It tore my heart when he did leave. How could he just leave me alone with his baby? Why did he abandon me? I thought I was his lady. Now he is gone and I am alone, My angered parents wanted me out of their home. It all just seems so unfair, All I wanted was someone to care. I just needed someone to love, That's what I pray to the God above. I look at the happy faces on tv, And I wonder why that can't be me. I have never taken a trip or a vacation, I am just trapped in this helpless situation. I don't want pity and I don't want tears, I just need someone to calm my fears. But there hasnbeen no help wherever I've turned, It seems when I have hope, I always get burned. I cry myself to sleep almost every night, Praying I will still have the strength to continue the fight. I just feel so lost and all alone, With only the four walls of the shelter to call home. I want the best life for me and my son, I don't want him to hate me for all I've done. I don't want him to judge me for my mistakes, I want him to be proud of me, no matter what it takes. I see your eyes when you stare at me, Another poor single mother is all you see. But don't look at me with a disdaining glance, Just believe in me and give me a chance. - byJim Cooke Little Angel of Jungle Paradise Little angel of jungle paradise, little angel of jungle paradise She has no home to call her own, innocence is as sweet as she, Little angel has much love, she glows of beauty with great status, She lives on the streets, where she roams, for freedom is her own, Little angel of jungle paradise has found the love of many, She has no home to call her own, little angel of jungle paradise. She was little angel of jungle paradise, it was her garden of eden, Where she had freedom of her own, her life was a simple one, Little angel lived with the drifters and bums, she was an angel of jungle paradise, of jungle paradise She was little angel of jungle paradise, it was her garden of eden, Some called it the ghetto, others called it skid row, She had the love of many, She was an angel of jungle paradise, it was her garden of eden, there she is she missed by many, She has flown away. Little angel of jungle paradise, little angel of jungle paradise. -- Poem by "Missped" Sorry, No Food - by Bonnie Briggs "Hey buddy, can you spare a meal?" That could be the cry of the ‘90's. With reduced Welfare rates, funding cutbacks, and more people being made homeless, food has to stretched further. As a result, there is less food to go around. The numbers of people using the food bank has risen dramatically since Harris was elected; up by 40% over the last three years. Here in Toronto, there are 125,000 people using the food banks every month, 50,000 of those people are children. There are also thousands of families using the food banks. These are mostly people who have never had to go to a food bank before. What does this say about our Society? It doesn't say very much about our Society. It is a very sad commentary on how we look after our disadvantaged. It used to be that everybody looked after each other. Now, it's every man/woman for themselves. The poor and homeless are just left on the curbside to fend for themselves. We don't care about each other anymore. Gone are the days when you could go to your neighbour for food if you ran out. Now, the attitude is "you're out of food? Get a job, then you can buy your own food. Don't bother me with your problems." Today's Society is very much geared to the individual, "me and mine." This is not the way to solve the homeless and poverty problems. We need to work together. If you're homeless, you have no way to store, cook, or preserve food. Whatever food you can get has to be portable, non-perishable, and require no cooking. This pretty well restricts you to junk food like chips, chocolate bars, sandwiches, and food that can be eaten from the can that you don't have to cook, like pork and beans. You don't have to be a doctor to know that kind of diet is not healthy. Homeless people live on the edge of malnutrition. Sure, they can get meals occasionally at a church, but that's not always available. Sometimes, they're lucky enough to find a drop-in who allows them to cook and store food. Some of them may even have community kitchens, but those kinds of drop-ins are rare. Even if people are fortunate enough to have housing, they're not really any healthier. These people are able to store, cook, and preserve food, but many of them are on the edge of malnutrition too. They are only allowed to go to the food bank once a month. Occasionally, they can go to an emergency food bank, but it's still not enough. You only get one or two bags of food, enough for just a few days. You have no choice over what food you're given. Most of what you get is snack-type food, so there's no nutrition in it. You don't get anything that you can make a meal with, so you end up eating only little bit each day. One thing you do get is Kraft Dinner. Yuck! Poor people eat far too much of that stuff. There is no nourishment in it; the cheese isn't even real. It's just edible oils. Sure, you can add stuff to it, but it's still Kraft Dinner, no matter how you try to cover it up. Yeah o.k. you get "fresh" vegetables and fruit. But, some of the vegetables I see that come from the food bank are far from being fresh. Some of them are rotting, they've gone soft, and they're way past the date when they can be used. How can they expect poor people to eat that stuff? Don't they deserve truly fresh vegetables just as much as everyone else? By the time these fruits and vegetables get to the poor people, any vitamins that were in them have long since disappeared. A lot of these fruits and vegetables end up going in the garbage. That's not doing anybody any good. You get a lot of canned food from the food bank; a lot of past-dated canned food. If you look at the "best before" dates on the cans you get from the food bank, you see that the cans are, for the most part, well past these dates. That's not to say that the food is not good to eat, it just means that the vitamins are starting to break down; again, no nourishment. I think stores donate those cans to the food bank to 1. Get rid of them and 2. To make themselves feel better and to show Society "what good retailers they are by helping the poor people." It's a tax write-off for them too. One thing you don't get from the food bank is meat. I know some poor people are vegetarians, and I respect that. But, there are people out there who are poor and who like meat. Poor people hardly ever get meat, unless they go to a church that is serving a meal. Meat is essential for iron, protein, vitamins, and minerals. We need those things to keep ourselves healthy. How are people supposed to stay healthy if they don't get those nutrients? They don't have the money to buy meat, and it's too much to expect other people to give them meat, it's so expensive, yet so necessary. So, how about it? "Can you spare a meal?" There are a lot of poor, hungry people out there. They all need to eat. Hunger is no respecter of class, age, Societal position, or economic level. We all suffer from it, no matter who we are. I have covered many aspects of food banks in this article, but there are so many that I haven't covered. I didn't even talk about kids going to school hungry. It has been scientifically proven that if kids don't eat in the morning, they can't learn. Children who suffer from malnutrition have learning problems all their lives. Some kids are lucky enough to have breakfast programs in their schools, provided their families can afford to pay for it. So, that's my article on food banks. I hope you found it informative. Next time you see a poor or homeless person who looks hungry, why not buy them a meal, or at the very least, give them a coupon for a hamburger or bus fare to get to the church so they can get a meal there. Let's keep our people fed! Footnote - (Statistics from the Daily Bread Food Bank, Toronto) |
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