Service Learning Log #2 Nina Prevot

Project Homeless Connect
Friday, May 9, 2008
7 Hours

I arrived at Project Homeless Connect about fifteen minutes early in order to make sure that I could sign in on time. I was extremely nervous the whole time because I knew that somewhere along the course of the day I was going to say something stupid. In addition, I was feeling incredibly sick that morning, and I was on a whole bunch of decongestants, cough suppressants, and fever reducers to try to make it through the day. I spent about an hour eating the free breakfast and worrying about the day before me. At 8:45, I joined the line and anxiously awaited meeting my client. My client was an African American man, 57 years old, and for writing purposes, I will call him Thomas. Thomas was, and is still, a cook by profession. He told me all about his life and how he came to be homeless. He told me about how he went into the Air Force straight out of high school, and learned the cooking trade there. We discussed this over breakfast, which he thoroughly enjoyed. He said that he wanted to get some new shoes, get some food stamps, and apply for as many jobs as he could. So, I took him to the food stamp line, which ended up being a bust because they said we would probably have to wait for around 2 hours in order to receive the food stamps that he was eligible for. Thomas decided that he would just wait and go to public office the following week and get them then.

Next we went to the resume line so that he could be prepared for some job interviews later. He told me about his career as a cook, and how he had originally worked for a very posh restaurant in New York City, and moved to Denver to be a cook in a hotel downtown. Unfortunately, he was laid off from this job, and a series of unlucky happenings and unfortunate circumstances lead him to be unemployed and eventually homeless. He told me about how he had only been homeless for a few months, and he was really doing his best to get back on his feet. After finishing his resume, we waited in another long line so that he could apply for a job. During this line, I talked to him about all of the information on the form that I needed to fill out. He said something very interesting to me then, that really gave me a reality check, "It's really hard sometimes, and I am embarrassed by it, but it is my story and my life, so I shouldn't be afraid to tell it to you." I think that one statement made the whole day. After he applied for a couple of cooking jobs, it was about time to go, and he thanked me graciously. I said it was my pleasure, but he took it even further, he said, “You don’t even know the reason why I am thanking you. I am thanking you because I haven’t smoked a cigarette all day, and being with you allowed me to do that.” That made me feel really good too.

Spending the day with Thomas really taught me a lot about the human condition, and about myself. It is extremely sad to me that a good hard working man like my client Thomas could go from being on top of the world to being homeless so quickly because of the state of the economy. What is even worse, is that I have all of these gifts and privileges that he does not have, but he is the one who has it all figured out. He knows that no matter what course his life takes, he cannot be ashamed of it because that is his life, and he only gets to live it once. Life is too short to be ashamed of your accomplishments even if they have lead you to a place you are not particularly proud of. In my opinion, though this may seem harsh, my friend and client Thomas was not doing his best to get back on his feet. There were employers at Project Homeless Connect who could have given him a job, but he refused to do anything but be a cook. I have to ask myself if having that specific job is really worth being homeless. I think, if I were in his situation, I would be willing to take almost any job so long as it could guarantee some financial stability. I think that pride can lead people down a bad road, but we all need to have enough pride that we do not become ashamed of our lives, which is ultimately our only masterpiece.