I
was very relieved. I was no longer sleeping on the sidewalk in an
alley, waking up at all unknown noises, encountering the random
insane person who had no clue who he was nor where he was but was
certain he needed to beat me up (or worse). I now have a bunk in a
room filled with approximately forty women. There are families in two
other dorms on my floor, and more on the floor below me (I am on the
third floor). The food is not five-star cuisine, but since I am not
staying at the Ritz Carlton I have not complained. I have constantly
reminded myself where I was just a few weeks ago and I have chosen to
be grateful, ever mindful of God's anger when the Israelites
complained about the lack of variety in their diet while they were
wandering in the desert.
But
the circumstances have changed, and now I must speak out. Not because
of myself; I have decided that, unless something changes, I am moving
into a motel at the end of September and will go back to panhandling
in order to try to keep a roof over my head (my disability will
barely cover rent; I am on waiting lists for affordable housing but
who knows how long that will take). This is about injustices that are
occurring at the Shade Tree which are affecting other women far more
drastically than myself.
The
first woman is an Army veteran who, when she was taken in, was told
as a veteran she could stay here rent-free until she was able to save
enough money to move out. When her unemployment insurance ran out she
was moved to the second floor (which is considered a punishment;
women on that floor must be out by 7:30 in the morning and are not
allowed to return until 3:45 that afternoon). She had difficulty
finding a job because her out-of-state identification had expired and
Nevada has insane rules for obtaining ID from the DMV (many women are
being forced to hunt down old marriage licenses and divorce
certificates to prove the transition from birth names to current
names—regardless of whether or not they have a Social Security card
in their current name). She is sixty years old, so she has that
against her, and her health is bad. She should be on disability but
has not obtained it to date. However, she finally found a job, not
that it mattered. The Shade Tree is still throwing her out the last
week in September, even if she were to agree to pay the $90 they are
now asking women to pay.
Another
woman (I will call her “Susie”) has been working Monday through
Friday since she got here, paying the $90 she was required to pay.
But like myself, she has noticed things happening here in the past
month that caused her to rethink giving money to the shelter. Let me
preface this story by explaining The Shade Tree has lots of rules,
some of which are silly but that I tolerated because I was grateful
to be off the streets. Some of those rules include a curfew of 6:30,
no soda or food above the first floor, no “tenting” (hanging
towels, etc., around a bunk for a semblance of privacy), and the
like. Yet, when a woman was caught smoking meth in the bathroom and
was reported to the advocate (the “floor monitor”, for lack of a
better explanation of the job title), the advocate replied that if
they searched everyone for drugs half the beds in this facility would
be empty. WELL?! So what! Make room for the people who are turned
away because you have meth addicts taking up space!
Anyway,
Susie decided not to pay on September 1st. Not just
because of this incident but because, despite a contract requiring
them to do so, The Shade Tree has not been providing sack lunches for
those people who work. Additionally, we have been receiving
concentration camp rations of food (I have gone out to buy myself a
real meal on more than one occasion), and the food that is being
served is of even lesser quality than when I first arrived.
Meanwhile, The Shade Tree is now forcing everyone to pay rent,
regardless of their circumstances, or they are being moved to the
second floor (which is also a 30-day stay; anyone there is kicked out
at the end of that time). Susie's question is, “On what is that $90
being spent?” They even run out of paper plates, forks, bread,
milk, water...basic items for any shelter whether anyone pays rent
there or not! Needless to say, Susie is being moved to the second
floor as I type this article.
It
gets even worse. A mother took her infant to the hospital because he
kept tugging on his ear. The doctor poured hydrogen peroxide into his
ear...and three bed bugs came out! I have been fortunate; I have not
encountered them personally. But I have seen more than one woman with
the characteristic tracks on some portion of her body indicating her
bunk (indeed, the entire shelter) needs to be fumigated, but no
action has been taken. There is also black mold in the walls; as a
result many of us have chronic respiratory symptoms.
For
myself, the icing on the cake was last Wednesday when the elevator
broke for the second time in the past two months. I have had three
knee surgeries (among other problems) and negotiating stairs causes
great pain. That day, I was out when the elevator was placed
out-of-order so I had to climb the stairs to get to my floor. When I
arrived, I popped three non-prescription pain pills, which I followed
later for a total of ten that day. At dinnertime, one of the women
offered to bring my dinner back from downstairs. A half hour later
she returned without any food, telling me that one of the advocates,
Erika (her real name) had forbidden anyone taking food out of the
dining area. Now, I am not the only person here with physical
problems; some ladies have walkers, and some are in such bad shape
they do not even participate in fire drills. Yet, Erika was so
obsessed with a nonsensical rule that circumstances meant nothing to
her. If we go hungry, so what? The rules have to be enforced, you
know.
Just
not for everyone. Two women staying on the third floor are not
working, are not veterans, and are not in school; the only thing they
do each week is meet with their case managers and attend the three
required “Life Skills” classes (each one hour long). Other than
that, it is a perpetual vacation for them. The rules are enforced
selectively; while some women go out drinking and come back with no
problem, others are kicked out if they blow so much as a .001 on the
Breathalyzer (which is only given to women randomly, with no clear
pattern as to who, when, or why).
Then
there are the fights. Some of the women here are young, and have been
toughened by jail, prison, and/or the streets, and have no qualms
about threatening to kick someone's ass (or actually doing so),
throwing chairs, punching doors...and all of this in a place where
some of the women are here because they have been physically and/or
sexually abused by their significant others. Add to this environment
the growing discontent over the food situation, and readers can
imagine the results.
If
people knew the conditions here at The Shade Tree, not only would
donors stop donating but if someone were to notify the federal
government (yes, they receive federal funds), that money would be
yanked out of here so fast the Director would not know what happened.
And I just wonder what the media would make of all this.
Oh.
Wait.
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