Denver Rescue Mission

The day I went to volunteer at the Denver Rescue Mission, I was very excited and curious to find out what I would be doing. I figured out how to get there and then took the lightrail downtown. Once I arrived in downtown Denver, I asked some people how to get to the DRM and eventually figured it out. It was quite a bit of a walk to get there, but it was pretty manageable. When I got there, I signed in and met the other volunteers who I ended up working with that day.
Some of the duties I partook in were cleaning out the trash and filling the gargbage cans with trash bags. I also helped by filling up the pitchers and setting up tables that were needed to feed the homeless people for dinner. In addition, I assisted others in bringing food out and moving things around. I worked in the backroom area where I had to move stuff around as well as preparing food for other meals such as cutting bagles and bringing other important items to the tables.
There were many chores which I was able to perfrom while volunteering at the DRM. The day pasted by very fast and wish that I could of stayed longer. Even though it was short, I was able to accomplish a lot and make the most use of my time. Similar to Project Homeless Connect, I still enjoyed working with the homeless people although the tasks that I performed were much different from each other.

Class Reflections

In the past 10 weeks we’ve covered a lot of ground regarding not only writing, but also research techniques all under the overarching theme of service learning. As you reflect on this quarter, in what area do you think you’ve improved the most? Was there a particular assignment that challenged you to enhance your writing or research methods?

In exploring different types of writing styles, we’ve also analyzed and observed many different opinions about the homeless and homelessness. How, if at all, has this class changed your thoughts about the homeless? If you’re view points did change, why do you think this is? Do you think centering a writing class on a social issue is an effective way to teach writing?

A big part of this class was the service learning aspect. We read article that both supported and negated the effects of service learning. Even a piece of our grade in this class was based upon our own volunteer work. After 10 weeks of experience with a service learning program, what do you think are the strengths and weaknesses of a class like this? Would you participate in a service learning course again? Why or Why not?

-Emily

Project Homeless Connect Reflection

When I volunteered at Project Homeless Connect, I noticed many people who partook in this event. I experienced various ways of helping these people out and knowing that I was an important part in making a difference in their lives. One particular thing that stood out to me was just the overall experience of talking with my client and other people put into the same situation. I enjoyed the interactions we had because it made us both feel engaged to the conversations amongst each other. For example, when we were eating lunch together or waiting in line to get a haircut was when we mostly talked because it gave us time to reflect on each other’s stories. It was a great time because this is not a typical everyday thing and took every opportunity to be part of such a great cause.

Service Learning Log #1 -- Abby

I felt overwhelmed with anxiety as soon as I approached the Ritchie Center. I had forgotten to enter from the North, so I had to pass through the entire building to arrive at the entrance. As I hurried through the hallway, I made note of the crowds surrounding me. I am embarrassed to say it, but if I had been in downtown Denver in that crowd, I would have gone out of my way to not pay attention; I would have avoided eye contact and stared at my feet. Instead, I took in all the fine details I could: I had a paper to write! One thing I explicitly noticed was that not everyone looked homeless! For a millisecond I assumed that they weren’t, that these were just regular people looking for some help. The women were wearing makeup, the men’s shirts were tucked in…Then I remembered what I had learned in class: only about 15 to 20 percent of Denver’s homeless fit the prototype we have in created in our heads. Whenever I had previously arrived to the north end of the Richie Center, I had always felt excited and happy. Usually, I was going to a hockey game, or a basketball game, or to free open skate. This time, my emotions were decidedly different; I was excited, yes, but my primary emotion was anxiety. I was nervous and worried, despite my better judgment. I looked for someone wearing a red shirt, who directed me towards volunteer check-in, who in turn directed me back up the stairs to receive my clients (little did I know this was to be a major theme of the day--being instructed from one person, to another, and so on…). After taking the final step I saw the woman who was handing out client assignments, and stumbled: the person ahead of me was walking away with their one partner, a 50ish woman. The next group waiting for a volunteer was not quite so small--a woman in her 50s, a woman (who looked no older than me) holding a toddler in her arms while pushing a stroller containing a second baby. Four homeless people were going to be assigned to one overwhelmed young volunteer. Yes, that volunteer was me.



I awkwardly introduced myself, and they did the same. We headed over towards the food; there is no better way to diffuse tension than to add free food into the mix. We sat down at a table with another couple and started chatting. It was not as awkward to get started as I had assumed it would be--both of my clients were very outgoing women. The youngest started off by telling me how the bus to pick them up was an hour and a half late! This got the older woman going--but she wasn’t angry, she was laughing! She told me how Annie had been complaining to everyone in sight, but that nobody was getting mad at her because she was so cute! I could understand it: Annie, who is 24, looks about 17. She is just barely five feet tall, has beautiful brown eyes and what is often called a movie star smile. Outside of the context of Project Homeless Connect, I never would have believed her to be currently living in a shelter. She explained to me that the four of them, along with two of their friends form the shelter, arrived at the bus stop promptly at 10 till 8 for their 8:00 bus. The other women waited until 9:00, when they headed back to the shelter in frustration. Luckily for Annie and DJ, who continued waiting, the bus picked them up at 9:30 and they were deposited at the foot of the impressive campus of the University of Denver around 10 o’clock.

It is difficult to be concise when talking about my experiences with Project Homeless Connect; my first draft was 1400 words! I learned so much about myself and the homeless in Denver, but even more importantly, I think I really helped my client on her journey towards finding a home. Throughout the day we talked about so many serious issues--racism, abuse, literacy, and family issues-- that my eyes were truly opened to the plight of the average homeless person. I understand now that there are a lot of factors that lead a person to lose their home. I also saw first hand the negative effects homelessness can have on a child‘s development. However, I saw a lot of things that changed my opinions and gave me hope.

Service Learning log 2-Margy Rose

Project Homeless Connect (PHC) was different for me this time around, versus my experience with PHC5, because of the nature of the volunteer work I did at both events. For my first experience, I worked with an older lady and her sister, walking them through client services. We did not have much of a connection at the end of PCH5; however, we found somewhat of an understanding. I was also able to see a different side of PHC this quarter by walking around an 18-year-old girl through client services. I felt that there was a real connection between us, our experiences might have been completely different but the basic level of understanding the late teen years was easy and natural. We had no problems conversing as if we were forced into the same awkward school fieldtrip and were forced to be in the buddy system for the trip. By the end, we were talking as if we were best friends, about guys and about life in general. However, I had a difficult time accepting the fact that we had this invisible brick wall between us, the wall that she is going to have incredible difficulty crossing; the wall that is the definitive line between a life of ease and privilege and a life of constant struggle upward. She was 18, looking for permanent housing, living in a $150 per month apartment, and without any job. How quickly she fell to poverty, and how close she is now was a real wake-up call for me. I am 19, a spunky and outgoing college student, president of an organization, advisor, mentor, and soon to be RA. I have the world at my fingertips by being at Denver University and no matter what I did that day; I was not going to be able to help her reach that point, not in one day at least. It felt out of my hands, I was not in control and that was difficult to let go of. It made me reconsider my plans for the summer—so I applied for summer staff positions—and reiterated the importance of being independent and having my own financial stability, without my parents. For the second part of my day, I took up documenting PHC through my photography for The Clarion. Immediately when I put on the camera, the environment surrounding me changed. I was no longer just a volunteer. To some, I was an intruder, getting too close and too personal, documenting a very vulnerable time. For some, especially the kids, the camera was a source of excitement, a chance to be in the spotlight instead of one of the forgotten. Starting out, I had conflicts, ethical dilemmas that I had to face about documenting the event. I found myself holding back on some photos, observing and shooting with a telescope lens instead of getting too close. I also found myself trying hard to capture the emotion of the day to the point that I almost stereotyped the reactions I was looking for: the exhausted, degraded looking homeless person and the emotionally exhausted volunteer. The more I think about it, the more disgusted I am with my crass discrimination of photos I did take that day—disregarding some that I saw no emotion in—completely forgetting to adapt my shooting to the mood of the subjects. I am by nature and by experience, not quick to judge or to put labels on others; however, here I was doing just that. I was looking for the stereotype, possibly because of my inner photojournalist’s nature or possibly because I felt detached from the event by being behind the lense. I found the few moments I was looking for, shooting accordingly; however, I missed some key opportunities to capture the real spirit of the event: people helping people, enjoying their time relaxing for a day and learning from one another. It was the spirit I had when I was doing client service, and I lost by trying to create a photographer-subject boundary. If I could go back to that day, or if I get another opportunity to participate in a PHC, I would hope to not lose my spirit of volunteerism and have another try at documenting and photo journalism.

Overall, this quarter has been a quarter for discovery and changing perceptions. By participating in PHC and through my volunteering at DRM and the Bridge Project, I have been able to see more amounts of dedication and perseverance than I have seen from most of my encounters on DU’s campus. I have learned that this is most likely because it takes that extra 150% to even be close to being on a level playing field as others in society. It is admirable and deserves to be recognized. These people are not lazy, they are not dumb, they are not lacking any sort of commitment or dedication; they are victims. They are victims of bad luck and bad decisions that forced them into difficult positions, into poverty, and they were pushed so deep that it becomes a cycle, and a difficult one to break. They work twice as hard as many other people, many university students. They came to our campus for one day, in all humility and with the strength of a super-human because they needed outside help. An act of that magnitude takes extreme amounts of courage because it can be incredibly humiliating. I admire all who came out and I applaud all the volunteers that honestly went into Friday looking to learn and to grow from the experience, not because they had to for class but because they genuinely wanted to help. This was a fantastic event for Denver University and I hope we get to host it again.

Service Learning log 1-Margy Rose

For my outside volunteer project, I spent an evening with Hanna and Janis at the Denver Rescue Mission (DRM). Upon arriving, we noticed a Boy Scout leader standing outside the volunteer entrance and realized immediately that the work load that night was going to be super-light as Boy Scout groups tend to be large. The shift was over-booked with volunteers, which allowed for some time to sit down with the director to talk about the mission and details of the DRM. The director was an interesting sort of man. He was extremely personal, delving into each of our backgrounds and asking personal questions about why we chose to work at the rescue mission for the evening. He was very curious about the latter, wanting to know in detail why we chose to work there and what potential we saw for service-learning integration with the work we would be doing. He also seemed somewhat cynical towards the environment of the DRM, frequently telling us the DRM is full of negative energy and sorrowful faces which can be draining on volunteers. He even stated that it was a wonder why anybody chose to volunteer there—an unconventional and almost alarming statement when prepping three girls for a three hour volunteer shift. I was afraid at first that with the number of volunteers there going to render us almost completely useless to the DRM for the evening. We were placed on dinner prep, which is not the most interactive volunteer project, and we were stuck rolling sporks for the evening. As unlucky as this might seem, we were lucky to get to interact with a member of the Scouts who came and helped us with the rolling. The kid was an incredible, home-schooled middle school student who could have been labeled “too bright for his own good.” For an hour of volunteering we sat and talked with him, learning about concerns of middle school—taking tests and getting on sports teams—and the difference in being home-schooled versus private and public institutions—whether or not he felt left out socially or if it was going to be a difficult adjustment when he finally enrolled into a school or college.

For a really interesting twist, the director specifically asked one volunteer, a participant in the DRM rehab program, to come talk with our group about his experience in rehab program and his life before going to DRM. Even though he started to talk to us right after our shift ended, we stayed and listened to his story close to an hour after our shift ended. We were completely enraptured by his recounting of personal events: arrests, drug abuse, marriage, divorce, soul-seeking, and rehabilitation. I had a group meeting that I was voluntarily late for to allow him to finish sharing his story. It was almost as if we were used for his cathartic release, and I could not take that away from him. Although we did not get to work directly with the homeless coming into the shelter, I feel I gained more insight from this one man and his journey than I learned from any experience of the past weekend. In order to break the cycle of poverty, homelessness, or drug and alcohol abuse, one must be determined enough to get out, to realize that one slip-up will start the cycle over again, and that avoiding these mistakes is crucial. The second step to recovery is not so much a second step but goes hand-in-hand with the first; second, admittance is necessary to keep accountable, to follow and stay on the right track. He was asked to come speak to our group, even though he had work to do for the program that day, he took the time to come down and talk because, as he said, it was just as important for his rehabilitation to have to be honest about his past so he can look forward to his future knowing he never wants to go back there. He spoke to us with such humility and honesty that is rarely seen in any conversation, much less a conversation on faults and bad decisions in life. I appreciated every extra moment we spent there because I was able to see the extent the humility and honesty helped relieve him of at least a part of his past.

Service Learning #2-PHC

I awoke at 7:15, eager for the experience ahead of me. As I got ready, I wondered what the day would hold in store for me. At 8:00, I begin to walk over to the Ritchie Center with my friend’s Mom. I look over at her and smile to myself. She is wearing a heavy fleece coat and gloves while I am only in a t-shirt. The forecast says it will be 70 degrees today. . What I do not realize is that she will not be the last person I see dressed for the cold. We arrive and check-in receiving our clipboards and then being instructed to wait in line along the stairs. Forty minutes later, the buses arrive and the clients begin to file out. They are mostly men, but there are also couples, families, and young adults about my age. Many carry bags or push strollers filled with their only possessions, and near all are wearing heavier coats. Though it is a nice morning, the afternoon would bring colder weather.
As the clients line up alongside the volunteers, the two groups do not interact even though they are only two feet from one another. As I finally reach the top of the stairs, I am paired up with an African American man in his mid 50s named Joe. During our big introduction, Joe barely takes his headphones off to say hello and rushes forward, not even waiting for me to say hi back. I rush to catch up with him, saying that we need to fill out some paperwork and asking him if he wants breakfast. He stops and looks back, still with his headphones on. He says no to breakfast and no to the bag check (he is carrying one backpack and a newspaper). He then pushes forward, only stopping for a brief two minutes when he fills out the forms. We soon enter the field house and it seems that we are some of the first to arrive. Joe instantly notes that housing already has a line. “Come with me,” he says and we walk to that designated area. Joe goes up to the lady in charge and asks for a number, while I stand behind, still looking at the volunteer map and trying to find where we are. The next moment, Joe is back at my side and telling me that we will go to employment while we wait. He is a veteran so we find the correct line. I stand aside, only half listening to his conversation with the lady. I am unsure how much either one of us is comfortable knowing and sharing. Twenty minutes later, Joe stands up and tells me he has received a few phone numbers where he can cook or do janitorial services, similar to some of the jobs he has held in the past.
Next, we walk over to the housing section where we still have twenty people in front of us. He says he would like to go outside a smoke. I said I would come with him and the two of us found a seat outside amongst numerous other clients. He began asking me questions about myself: where was I from and what was I studying? Soon, I felt comfortable enough to get to know him and I learned that he was from Louisiana, but that he had been in Denver for ten years (five of which is form indicated that he had been homeless). I also learned that he served in the army and that he had one son who was older. Soon, we needed to go back inside, but this time, walking into the field house, I felt much happier to have Joe as my client.
When we finally had our number called, we were told to sit at a round table where a man with forms interviewed us asking a lot of questions about Joe’s current situation. When we were finished with this part, we had to go and wait in another line for about thirty minutes more. Next, we talked to another lady who filled out more forms about Joe’s life. In the end, we found that the housing station was not actually giving out housing contracts, but only referrals. Joe seemed frustrated, saying that it was a waste of time to wait in line. All he received was a few phone numbers of different emergency shelters, but because he could not afford monthly housing, there was not much else that they could provide for them.
After this, Joe was ready to head out. He said he had a few places he wanted to stop by that afternoon. I made sure he received a lunch and an amenities bag before we parted ways. He thanked me for my help and said that he enjoyed his time with me. I felt good that at least part of his day had been pleasant.
My next client was named Frank. Frank was a truly fascinating person, not actually having a permanent place of residence. He was originally from South Dakota, but he had lived in Hawaii most recently. However, that very morning, he had arrived in Denver via bus from New Mexico. He said he had helped out a friend do some house renovations and now he was just on the move again and that this was his first time in Colorado. When I looked at his form, his last permanent residence involved camping. What a different life this man led from my very own.
Since Frank arrived much later in the afternoon, many places were closing up. He had mentioned that he wanted to get a hair cut, but by the time we got there, it was much too late. Still, he did find success in getting a renewed license and birth certificate. I think that even thought he did not mind not having an address, it was important that he still had a sense of identity. After waiting at this station, we found that there was no where else he really needed to go. He already had a referral to stay at a shelter for the night and he had already eaten lunch. Before I walked Frank to his bus, I made sure he also received an amenity bag. When I said goodbye, I told him good luck with everything. After leaving him, I found that there were no more clients, so I decided to head home.
Overall, I thoroughly enjoyed my time at Project Homeless Connect. Personally, I grew in my knowledge of the homeless. In getting to know to men who were in this situation, I learned that life can sometimes just turn around for the worse. Both had indicated on the forms that bad credit and a loss of jobs was the reason they were homeless. Still, I found that both were kind-hearted and optimistic. Also, I discovered that before this experience, I just assumed most homeless people were either entirely or partially illiterate. However, both my clients were able to fill out their own forms. In a way, I felt that I was being degrading by filling out the forms for two humans who were perfectly capable of doing it themselves. Though having the clients fill out their forms was not exactly how the staff wanted it to be done, I felt that this helped me feel more comfortable and relaxed with my clients.
I also feel more willing to volunteer in the community. I now understand that the public good does not necessarily refer to the image of for instance the city of Denver. Instead, this phrase more refers to the good of the citizens. Volunteering will help those in my community who are less fortunate. This experience showed me that my time is valuable to those who need it. It was a life-changing event that helped me see how others live and also observe first-hand some of the situations I have read about in class. I look forward to helping again next year and learning more about the lives of different people.