STREETZine March 2024 Edition

STREETZine

Offering financial opportunity to homeless and economically disadvantaged individuals.

STREETZine is a program of The Stewpot and a member of International Network of Street Papers

Suggested donation to a vendor with a badge: $1.00 or more - La donación sugerida a un vendedor con insignia: $1.00 or more

Youth Homelessness Takes a Helping Hand

By Wendy Rojo

Housing insecurities affect everyone. But Father Gregory Boyle, founder of Homeboy Industries in Los Angeles, told The Stewpot’s annual Soup’s On luncheon in February that people especially are at risk of homelessness when they lack relationships.

Relationships are crucial to overcoming adversity. During hard times that I have faced, the only thing that kept me going was the support I received from my close friends and family. Many of those who face housing insecurities, or any kind of insecurity, simply need a helping hand. Unfortunately, providing the resources a person needs to face any insecurity is easier said than done.

For youth facing housing insecurities, it can be hard to discover resources or find those relationships that can lend a helping hand.

It can be particularly difficult to help those who may not be able to fully communicate what they need. For youth facing housing insecurities, it can be hard to discover resources or find those relationships that can lend a helping hand.

According to Elevate North Texas, roughly 4.2 million youth experience homelessness each year in America. As shocking as that number is, it is more shocking to find out that there are only 4,117 beds available nationwide for youth. Not only are we failing as a country to provide safe shelters for homeless youth, but we are failing at listening to our at-risk youth.

Young people face housing insecurities due to various reasons, although some youths are at a higher risk of becoming homeless.

The Texas Network of Youth Services reports that it can be difficult for youth to report they are homeless because the first step is to contact their legal guardian. At times that legal guardian is the one who is endangering them.

Of course, this is not the case for every youth facing housing insecurities. Young people face housing insecurities due to various reasons, although some youths are at a higher risk of becoming homeless.

According to the National Network for Youth, specific subpopulations of youth and young adults are at a higher risk for homelessness. For instance, Black youth have an 83% increased risk compared to their white peers and Hispanic youth face a 33% increased risk for homelessness. Youth who identify as a part of the LGBTQ community are more than twice likely to experience homelessness.

These are just some of the youths who are at a higher risk of becoming homeless. However, this does not consider all the families with children who become homeless or those young people who may have lost their family. When we think about all the reasons a child may become homeless, most of the time the lack of relationships and control over their lives lead to their situation.

Luckily, there are organizations that provide

those relationships and resources that kids need to succeed. Jonathan’s Place, for example, offers residential care and specialized services in Dallas County to children up to age 18. It is also the only organization in the county to offer residential services to kids under the age of five.

The Texas Network of Youth Services follows a comprehensive systems-change approach that focuses on policy, practice, and partnership. The organization promotes policy at every level, trains those working directly with youth, and, most importantly, shows what these kids are capable of achieving when they are supported.

Youth homelessness is not a pretty subject. It is messy, heartbreaking, and should make you upset that there are such a huge number of children and young adults facing housing insecurities every day. However, if we keep learning how we can lend a helping hand, then slowly we can decrease the number.

Wendy Rojo is managing editor of STREETZine.

Artwork by Stewpot Artist Edwin Fuller.

STREETZine

STREETZine is a program of The Stewpot.

The STREETZine is a monthly newspaper published by The Stewpot, a ministry of the First Presbyterian Church of Dallas. The Stewpot provides services and resources for people experiencing homelessness or who are at risk of being homeless. The organization also offers opportunities for a new life.

As part of this ministry, the STREETZine seeks to raise awareness about the issues surrounding homelessness and poverty. The monthly publication also offers financial opportunity for Stewpot clients who sell the paper to Dallas residents. Vendors are able to move towards economic self-sufficiency by using the money they receive from selling copies to purchase bus passes, food, and necessary living expenses. Clients also receive stipends for contributing articles to STREETZine.

The content in STREETZine does not necessarily reflect the views or endorsement of its publisher, editors, contributors, sponsors or advertisers. To learn more about this publication, contact Betty Heckman, Director of Enrichment, 1835 Young Street, Dallas, Texas 75201 or BettyH@thestewpot. org. To read more about STREETZine, a member of the International Network of Street Papers, go to www. thestewpot.org/streetzine.

Managing Editor: Wendy Rojo

Editorial Advisory Board: The Rev. Amos Disasa

Brenda Snitzer

Suzanne Erickson

Russell Coleman

Poppy Sundeen

Sarah Disasa

William McKenzie

Betty Heckman

Dee Leone

Photo Editor: Jesse Hornbuckle

Pastor’s Letter: With Fervent Prayer

By Reverend Meagan Findeiss

Editor’s Note: This essay is excerpted from a sermon that Reverend Findeiss preached at the First Presbyterian Church of Dallas on January 7, 2024

1 Samuel 3:1: Now the boy Samuel was ministering to the Lord under Eli. The word of the Lord was rare in those days; visions were not widespread.

Growing up I had a prayer routine I did every night that involved the Lord’s Prayer and an intricate list of all my loved ones.

On one particular night, my sister and I had been invited by our cousin to go to a water park a couple of hours away. We then drove back for a sleepover at her house. I fell asleep on the car ride back and was so tired when we pulled into my cousin’s driveway, I don’t even remember walking inside, much less saying my prayer routine.

When my mom picked us up the next morning, she told us the news. Our great grandmother had died at the age of 92. “92 wonderful years,” she said.

As a nine-year-old, I wasn’t sure what to do with this information. This was the first time I remember death coming to someone I loved, to someone on my prayer list.

I wrestled with understanding death, how someone could be here and then not. What did death imply about God?

Naturally, I drew two logical conclusions from my wrestling:

1. God listens to our prayers.

2. My great-grandmother’s death was my fault because I had not prayed the night she had died.

Meaning-focused coping

Individuals often make associations or conclusions, whether correct or incorrect, to help process what is happening in their lives. There is a psychological term for this: meaning-focused coping. Individuals “employ cognitive strategies to process

and make sense of the meaning of a situation,” writes Tiffany Sauber Millaci on Positive Psychology.com

Individuals often make associations or conclusions, whether correct or incorrect, to help process what is happening in their lives.

Why did I lose my job? Why is my loved one sick? Why did that happen the way it did?

We make up reasons whether accurate or not to help in our processing. Meaning-focused coping is often used when people do not feel in control of a situation. It is a reframing tool.

Sometimes though, attempting to find meaning can come up short. Meaningmaking can prove trite, or forced, especially when barraged by hard situations or circumstances.

There is just a slow resignation to God’s presence being far, far away, just like in today’s verse, “The word of the Lord was rare; God’s visions were not widespread.”

How can we begin to process the current turmoil of the day?

My childhood belief that my absence of prayer impacted the life of my Great Gramma, was me trying to make sense of a situation I had no control over. Her death was not the result of my not praying. Her death had everything to do with her age and her health.

God’s voice often does not sound like Moses’ experience with a burning bush, nor like Samuel’s hearing God calling from the other room

My feeble attempt to process the situation ultimately led my nine-year-old self to prayer, and though slightly askew, a realization of the incredible power of prayer.

God’s voice often does not sound like Moses’ experience with a burning bush, nor like Samuel’s hearing God calling from the other room. Author Marjorie Thompson explains that “God desires to be known in as many ways of communicating with us as we are willing to listen.”

Listening to God

Continued on page 5

Executive Director’s Report

By Brenda Snitzer

STREETZine posed these questions to Brenda Snitzer, executive director of The Stewpot. Below are her answers, which have been edited for length and clarity

What trends do you see in Dallas or nationally in terms of youth experiencing homelessness?

The National Alliance to End Homelessness reports that on a single night in 2023, 34,703 unaccompanied youth were counted as homeless. About 91% of them were between the ages of 18-to-24. The remaining 9.3% were under 18.

The organization also reports that 41% of homeless youth sleep outside, in a car, or somewhere else. And the National Incidence Studies of Missing, Abducted, Runaway and Thrownaway Children reports that even though 99% of homeless youth return home, many stay away for a week and some for a month.

Dallas youth homelessness follows this national trend. The Dallas Independent School District reports, for example, more than 4,000 students experienced homelessness in 2021.

The biggest problem is that youth under age 18, as well as from ages 18-to-24, tend to hide their homelessness. They couch surf or stay with friends for short periods. They also ride the transit system all day or stay in 24-hour restaurants when trains and buses are closed.

What do you see as the driver of homelessness among young people in Dallas or nationally?

Youth homelessness, like adult homelessness, can be caused by many factors. However, the driving force is usually family conflict.

Many have issues with their family of origin and run away or are turned out. The National Alliance to End Homelessness reports that “Youth who identify as LGBTQ; pregnant and parenting youth; youth with special needs or disabilities, and youth of color, particularly African American and Native American youth, are also more likely to become homeless.”

Poverty and housing insecurity, racial disparities, and mental health and substance abuse disorders also contribute to their homelessness. And the Alliance reports, “Young people who have had involvement with the child welfare and juvenile justice systems are also more likely to become homeless.”

KERA reported in February 2023 that experts believe youth aging out of foster care and LGBTQ youth are most at risk of becoming homeless. About 20% of youth experience homelessness within the first year of aging out of foster care, according to the National Foster Youth Institute. Elevate North Texas reports that LGBTQ youth face significantly higher rates of homelessness because they are more likely to be kicked out of their homes by family members who don’t accept them.

A lack of resources to prevent youth from becoming homeless, such as counseling for families or other supports, can make it challenging for young people. Dallas has had a lack of shelters and services for youth and young adults experiencing homelessness, but there has been more focus on this issue in recent years and more services are coming online.

For instance, Dallas ISD has a homeless education division. In 2012, the district opened its first drop-in center for students at North Dallas High School. Since then, the school district has opened 20 drop-in centers with more needed. They provide breakfast and snacks along with hygiene items and various supports — all in an effort to create a welcoming and supportive environment for homeless youth.

How does The Stewpot address the needs of young people experiencing homelessness?

We are part of the All Neighbors Coalition, a collective of over 140 organizations collaborating to provide resources and support to those experiencing homelessness in Dallas and Collin counties. This group is convened by Housing Forward, the lead organization in our area’s homeless response system. (After two years as vice chair of the coalition, I now chair its General Assembly.)

This group and Housing Forward won $9.4 million in U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development (HUD) funds to prevent young people from becoming homeless and to reduce the time young people spend on the street when they do become homeless. The Dallas area received the largest allocation of the 16 sites across the nation.

This funding comes on the heels of $22.8 million from HUD to the Dallas area to reduce unsheltered homelessness. Dallas was one of six regions selected to receive that funding.

For the youth funding, Housing Forward and organizations in this area that serve youth have a working group within the All Neighbors Coalition as well as a youth action board that consists of young people who have or are experiencing homelessness. They plan how to use the funds.

For more information on resources for youth, contact Housing Forward or go online to Resources for Young Adults.

Brenda Snitzer is executive director of The Stewpot.

Infusing Hope in Kids Without Hope

Father Gregory Boyle has worked with gang members for 40 years, 36 of which have been through Homeboy Industries in Los Angeles. The author of Tattoos on the Heart, Barking to the Choir, and, most recently, The Whole Language, he spoke with STREETZine’s Brenda Snitzer, Wendy Rojo, and Bill McKenzie before The Stewpot’s annual Soup’s On luncheon in early February. Below is an excerpt from their conversation, which includes perspectives from Homeboy representatives Semaj Jackson and Danny Howard.

Your secret sauce is treating gang members as humans. How does that work?

Part of it is creating a culture of cherished belonging. People want to feel safe and seen and cherished. If it is true that traumatized people are likely to cause trauma, then it has to be true that cherished people find their way to the joy of cherishing themselves and others.

So, it is not just treating people like human beings. It is creating that environment where people can hold the mirror up to each other and return to themselves. Then, they are resilient and sturdy and can leave us and take what the world will throw at them. This time, they will not be toppled.

That is the secret sauce.

Are you seeing any uptick or downturn in youth joining gangs? Or have things remained steady?

Homeboy has been around for 36 years, and I have been working with gang members for 40. There is just no comparison to the “decade of death” from 1988 to 1998. The highest moment came in 1992 when we had 1,000 gang-related homicides in Los Angeles.

That number has been cut in half and cut in half again. I think Homeboy has had something to do with that. We were the only exit ramp for some. You could wag your finger at gang members and say, “just say no.” But if you couldn’t get off the crazy, violent freeway, it wouldn’t do any good.

Gang violence is about something else. It is about a lethal absence of hope.

People once had a collective memory of that period. Now, they don’t recall the carnage. We still have killings of 14 to 15 year olds, including some that age who are the perpetrators. But it isn’t what it once was.

Gang violence is about something else. It is about a lethal absence of hope. If you can infuse hope in kids for whom hope is foreign, you can address this.

You say that no one is outside the circle of compassion. What does that mean?

We are human beings, so we like to exclude people. The deeply human task is to widen the circle so that no one is standing outside of it.

The deeply human task is to widen the circle so that no one is standing outside of it.

During the first 10 years of Homeboy, we had death threats, bomb threats, hate mail. But never from gang members. They understood what our work is about. The threats came from people who hated gang members. They didn’t want them in the circle of compassion. It was a short hop from there to demonize me for helping gang members.

When our bakery burned to the ground in October 1999, something took this monumental shift. The L.A. Times wrote

this editorial saying: “Homeboy doesn’t belong to Father Greg Boyle. It belongs to the city. “

Things then shifted. People saw our work was smart on crime, not soft. People opted for smart instead of tough. We got funds we never had before and were able to build a headquarters where now three of our social enterprises and 10,000 people walk through our doors each year.

What do you want people to know about the youth with whom you work?

To stand in awe of what they carry instead of standing in judgment. I have never had to carry what these two guys (nodding toward Semaj and Danny) have had to carry. Judgment keeps us from making progress.

The opposite of judgment is being curious about what this is about and how can we help? If you lean into that, you find your way to solutions, just as Stewpot does with the unhoused. You are reverent for how complex this is because you are up close and personal to it.

There is no us and them, there is just us and then the circle widens. You have created a community of the cherished, where people feel tender love.

Continued on page 6

Father Gregory Boyle explains Homeboy Industries during a STREETZine Interview. Photo Courtesy of Tim Smith.

Continued from page 2

So how do we listen and communicate with a God “who is Invisible, intangible, inaudible, and inscrutable?”

The spiritual practice of prayer is a discipline that has been used for millennia as a way of communicating with God. Whichever way we hear God’s voice, God is communicating. God is present. God is listening.

The spiritual practice of prayer is a discipline that has been used for millennia as a way of communicating with God.

In chapter one of the book of 1 Samuel, Hannah says, “O Lord of hosts, if only you will look on the misery of your servant and remember me and not forget your servant but will give to your servant a male child, then I will set him before you as a Nazirite until the day of his death.”

Writer Kat Armas puts that prayer this way:

“Hannah sought God through her prayer. Confidently asking God to look at her, when others couldn’t see who she was… she proclaimed her truth…as a beloved child of God…she poured out her soul before God.”

When we find ourselves in situations where we are begging and pleading with God, the way in which we cope, the way in which we can sit in the presence of God, is to pray. Prayer is, as Thompson writes, “being present to God with conscious awareness.” Whether your prayer is one of joyful thanksgiving or angry lament, whether it is a prayer of anguish or a prayer for meaning, God is present when we are open to God’s presence.

Prayer is, as Thompson writes, “being present to God with conscious awareness.”

God’s response is not always what we want it to be. For the case of Hannah, God heard Hannah’s plea and God delivered Samuel, as well as four other children to Hannah. God’s presence was illustrated through Hannah’s faith and fulfillment of her pledge to God.

Samuel’s ministry began with him as a child, working closely with and for Eli, the priest. Eli was a holy man, much older

than Samuel, and also had some mighty faults. Eli was intertwined in his family’s dubious behavior, allowing the actions of his sons to continue. His ill-use of power was one of the reasons the presence of God felt so distant. Eli and his sons’ unfaithfulness resulted in God withholding God’s word.

God was not absent, though. God had been there all along.

Samuel’s ministry put an end to the corruption that came from Eli and his family. Samuel impressed upon the people of God the faith of his mother, a prayerful woman who knew how to faithfully cope in desperate times. Samuel ushered in a new time where God’s visions and word were widespread.

The story of Samuel serves as a reminder to fervently search for meaning in our lives; to find time to be present before the ever-present one; to explore new ways to listen to God’s voice; to bring the things that are on our hearts to God, knowing that they will be heard and meticulously cared for.

Our God is the true meaning maker, the one who helps and holds us in our times of need.

Hannah’s prayer has taught us new ways to illustrate our faith. It has taught us that prayer is a multifaceted gift from God that serves as a coping method, a spiritual discipline, a form of communication with the Holy of Holies. Hannah taught us that

prayer can change the world as we know it.

Aaron Zerah, a child of Holocaust survivors and an ordained interfaith minister and teacher, wrote a prayer for all children of the world. This prayer celebrates individuals’ imaginations and emboldens courage to heal the world.

God’s beloved children who live on earth, Holy are each and every one of you. May good dreams come, Your way be found,

And heaven and earth rejoice with you.

May you be given

All you need for life

And may you accept our mistakes

As you allow yourself

To make mistakes and grow.

Lead us with imagination

And true integrity,

For yours are the minds, the hearts, and the souls

To heal the world

Now and forever.

May we all work together, as children of God, to change the times, so that God’s voice is more prevalent, and visions of God are more widespread.

Reverend Meagan Findeiss is associate pastor for care and belonging at the First Presbyterian Church of Dallas.

Artwork by Stewpot Artist Teresa Zacarias.

Continued from page 4

You mentioned people looking for solutions from that “decade of death.” Were there other solutions in play other than seeing all the carnage?

I would say no. Part of the issue was “get tough.” Operation Hammer was about swooping down, locking them up, and throwing away the key. The word would spread “they are hammering tonight.” I used to say that if employers swooped down and offered them jobs, we’d make more progress.

This was also at the time of the birth of continuation schools. Schools weren’t meeting the needs of kids getting into gangs. So, alternative schools gave them more attention and helped them graduate.

You talk about generating hope. How do you generate hope?

The delivery system for hope is a loving, caring adult who shows up and pays attention. It is not some big, huge programmatic plan. If people are the proud owner of a pulse, then they can show up at Stewpot and Homeboy Industries. It is relational. That is part of the goal: Entering into relational wholeness with people so they feel connected. That is the lifeline. It is not a message. It is not content. It is context.

The delivery system for hope is a loving, caring adult who shows up and pays attention. It is not some big, huge programmatic plan.

It doesn’t mean you don’t have content, but content is secondary. We have all the things everyone else has: anger management, education, tattoo removal and a list of other things. They are all secondary to the culture of the place. If love is the answer, community is the context. Tenderness is the methodology. That is how you get there.

Semaj, how do you find hope?

Growing up where I did, there was a lot of gang violence. I never found hope. I was influenced at a young age by not having a father around, my mom being a single mother, and dehumanizing myself in a gang culture. I thought that was hope: do-

ing everything the wrong way.

If love is the answer, community is the context. Tenderness is the methodology. That is how you get there.

I finally met Father Greg, but my mind was still stuck to the streets. I had one foot in and one foot out. But just the infinite amount of love and compassion that this man and Homeboy show, that’s where the hope comes from.

And you, Danny?

Piggybacking on what he said, there was no hope coming from our environment. We tried to find it on the street. When you walk through Homeboy’s doors, you get a different vibe. You get a love that makes you feel like you can be more than you have been.

That brought me hope that I could be something different. I may be a little older, but it is not too late. The case manager, Father Greg, even the security guards who hug you out of nowhere. They give you hope. I knew I could do better.

How do you feel like your social enterprises have helped your work?

Nothing ever was a grand plan. We started a school because there were too

many gang members not in school and no one wanted them. Then at school, they would say “only if we had jobs.” So, we tried to find employers. We couldn’t find enough employers who were felonyfriendly, so we started things like maintenance crews. We started Homeboy Bakery in 1992 after the unrest in Los Angeles and someone offered us money to buy an abandoned bakery.

But there never was a vision or plan. We backed our way into everything, including a silkscreen operation.

We used to be job-centered but we switched to being healing-centered. A healed gang member will be a good employee.

We have 13 social enterprises, most of them are all over the city. People first start coming here for a service like therapy and then they go to one of our enterprises. It is a way to build skills and confidence, like a dog-grooming enterprise. Homies are being trained in doggrooming.

We used to be job-centered but we switched to being healing-centered. A healed gang member will be a good employee. If they are still struggling with stuff, they will be too wounded.

Father Gregory Boyle (l) and Danny Howard (r) of Homeboy Indutries.

Photo Courtesy of Tim Smith.

Writers’ Workshop Essays

Editor’s Note: Each Friday morning at 10 a.m., The Stewpot hosts a Writers’ Workshop. During the sessions, participants address selected topics through prose or poetry. In this edition of STREETZine, we feature the essays of writers that explore moments of their youth.

What I Learned on the Journey from Pre-K thru High School

By Gershon Trunnell

I grew up in Dallas, Texas, where I was born prematurely at Dallas Medical City with a heart murmur and a hole in my heart. As you can see, I was born to survive.

In pre-K at Ms. Love’s daycare, I had my first encounters with knowing people and my own identity. I always noticed how the other children would come to me, joining in the activities I had started. There were all the different ethnic groups in one little space. When we had playtime, I found myself again alone doing my own thing, then in comes the crowd.

I ended up building personal friendships with the other children. I remember them always wanting to touch and feel on me like I was a shag carpet or something. At recess two of the girls used to kiss me, one on each side. I used to cry when that happened because the boys would laugh, and a few used to say I had cooties. So, I cried.

When we graduated to kindergarten, I loved music. I played the xylophone and

One Lesson I’ve Learned: All Things are Possible with God

By James Varas

I have thought about the future many times, especially as I look back on some trying times in my youth. They were like being forged in fire. We may not understand why trials persist, but we know they make us sharper and stronger.

I have learned one thing in life: All things are possible with God. I’ve learned that even through tough times.

As a youth, I had many dreams and ambitions. God has fulfilled all that I have asked for in one way or another. I asked for great wealth and He gave me great wisdom, which is grander than rubies and diamonds. I have dreamed many wonderful dreams and God has answered all my prayers, one way or another.

the flute — a little plastic blue flute. I was five years old at the time and cutting shapes and gluing stuff on craft paper. Then we did plays and performances.

My mom and daddy were together. I remember he used to watch me sit in the middle of the den playing and talking. He would ask me who I was talking to and playing with. I would just point and place my hand of the top of their heads one at a time. Three friends were blue. The others were red, yellow, and green with other colors. So, he put me to sleep and told my mom what happened. He then called me an old soul due to the fact that I had patches of white hair.

In the first grade to the fourth grade, life was more of the same. In the fourth grade, I used to go to my teacher’s house, Mrs. Nancy Calloway, who was like a mom to me. Another teacher asked me what I wanted to do when I grew up. I told her I was going to have my own everything. She told me that I would be no more than a janitor. I told her I would clean the dirty world.

I had a lot of friends. The girls would hold me down and put chocolate gloss on and kiss me all over my face in the sixth

I believe in the afterlife, and I believe in Jesus Christ. When you realize what you are receiving, you begin to look at life through new eyes and a new heart. The only thing that goes to Heaven is your spirit. All riches are left behind along with everything else.

As you grow older, you think of how much time you have left. I think of how I want to spend my final days here on earth. I thought I had cancer at one time, but the growth in a part of my body that we often associate with cancer disappeared after I cried out to God. I considered that a miracle.

Over time, I have learned to look at each day as a gift from God. I have been given the opportunity to go back to school and my dream is being fulfilled right now. I am receiving a college education. The first time I attempted to go to college, I was not ready.

grade. We transitioned from physical education (PE) to track and field, football, basketball, tennis (sports). I was good at all of them. I learned how to sew in home economics. That’s when I started making my own clothes.

The children were different in junior high school. It’s the first time I heard someone call me peculiar. I used to organize the themes for the dances and events. I played the violin and got first chair. I was on the track, football, and golf teams. I was a team captain and adviser to the student council.

On the day of my enrollment, the principal at my junior high told me in a meeting he had in his office with the two other principals that I wasn’t going to be able to attend Lake Highlands High School due to my character and influence. So, I went to Lincoln High School where I flourished in tech, football, journalism, radio/TV and was captain of the golf team, learned different languages, and grew to be the man I am today.

Gershon Trunnell is a writer in The Stewpot’s Writers’ Workshop.

It took many years for this dream to come true. I have one more dream of being on the open road, traveling in my 18-wheeler. I would like to get as much schooling in as possible before I ride off into the sunset. I have to watch the time and trust what my Heavenly Father instructs me to do.

Just so you know, one of my dreams was to become a pastor. And another one of my dreams was to become a Seal, and a heart surgeon. I work on people’s hearts but only in a different way now.

Youth is like a flower blooming. It has taken me this long to bloom.

James Varas is a writer in The Stewpot’s Writers’ Workshop.

Youth Homelessness

By Kimberly Parker

I feel upset regarding youth homelessness, but I feel upset about all homelessness. As my years came and went, I experienced a lot of homelessness. Some would say to “keep pushing” and when you do keep going, it does play out. But not all the time does it work in your favor, whether you have a job or not.

Now if you stay focused and use the tools that the world gives you, it can work out. I have struggled to make it. I have had years of staying in different shelters and with family and friends. I have had about four places totally of my own with my daughter and husband. My daughter and I will be experiencing homelessness again. She is 11 years old. When she was born, we were homeless. I am staying positive because I do not want her to feel any negative feelings like sadness or depression.

Kimberly Parker is a writer in The Stewpot’s Writers’ Workshop.

Glimpses from my Childhood

By Savita Harris

In an aged and cracked leather photo folder, I have two sepia-tinted photos of my mother. In one, she is seated on a white plywood box in the center of the arena, waving her rhinestone-studded cowboy hat in the air and smiling. Her trick-riding stallion, Utah, a stunning palomino, stands perched above her. In the other, taken at night, she is standing up in the trick-riding saddle astride Utah’s back, hands held high, still smiling, while Utah leaps through a hoop of fire 10 feet high. My mother was stunningly beautiful, her fearlessness as well as her features.

My dad loved beautiful women. Many of them. When my mother left — one of the most pivotal events of my youth — it did not happen all at once but slowly in phases. By then, she had retired from trick-riding, and defying all opposition, including threats to her life, she had become the first female horse trainer at a Thoroughbred racetrack across the border in Louisiana.

This season she had the horses stalled at the track, which meant a long drive back and forth every day, in addition to many late nights when the horses were entered in races. In the summer, I went with her to the track, but when school was in session, I could not. I got off the bus each day, walked the mile and a half home,

God is Love

1 John 4:7

By Joseph Lee III

Love. Unseen, intangible

But you feel it in your chest

A warmth that covers your whole body

When the world gets cold

The one thing that can be felt

In your mind, body, and soul

The one thing that cannot be bought

And can never be sold

More valuable than diamonds and gold

It will make you act bold

Make you feel young when you really are old

It is the hero of every story ever told

Now let me tell you something that might sound odd

But I believe when you find love that you’ve found God.

Joseph Lee III is a writer in The Stewpot’s Writers’ Workshop.

and stayed there alone until whatever time my father decided to come home, which could be anywhere between 5 p.m. to 5 a.m.

When my mother left, at first it was with the excuse that the drive was just too long. She was staying at my grandparents’ house — staying with her mother — who lived about halfway between our house and the track, and she would be home in the morning.

Then the one-day stay became the whole weekend because that’s when the horses raced, and the nights were late. Then an occasional weekend became every weekend, and then with Fridays and eventually Thursdays thrown in too. And then it got to be that she was away much more than she was ever there, and she had already carted off almost all of her belongings, little by little.

I think I realized that she was gone when I went into his bedroom where she kept her clothes — she had slept on the sofa for years — opened the closet on her side and found only the red patent leather shoes and brown-and-tan plaid pantsuit she wore for special occasions. Nothing else.

Then it came when she had not shown up for at least a couple of weeks, maybe a month, and my dad had been outside in the yard mowing the lawn. I had been

sitting on the sofa, reading a book, which was forbidden in his presence because he was illiterate. When I heard the back door open, I shoved the book under the arm rest of the mustard-colored Naugahyde sofa and stood up quickly.

“Du, you in there?!”

“Yeah!”

“You think you could cook us up something to eat?”

“Sure.”

My mother had never taught me how to cook. I think she saw it as learning how to wait on men and therefore as an education I would be better off without. I went into the kitchen and opened the fridge. The only thing in there that looked like it might still be edible was a cabbage. So, I got out the biggest pot I could find, put the cabbage inside of it, whole, filled it with water, then set it to boil. I don’t even think I put salt in it.

When my dad came in, I had the table set, just like my mom always had, and there in the center of it, in a giant serving dish, was the cabbage. My dad was very polite. I guess he realized there was a learning curve. I was 12, maybe 13. He took a large knife and with an air of pride, carved the cabbage and served it like one would a Thanksgiving turkey.

Savita Harris is a writer in The Stewpot’s Writers’ Workshop.

I am Grateful for My Opportunities as a Youth

By Jason Turner

Reminiscing and looking back on my youth is such a fun thing to do. I have to stop myself when I watch old TV shows because I’ll get caught up in my youth. It was a long time ago, and I’ve moved on since then.

I camped, had an amazing trip to Europe, and played sports. I explored and analyzed things and had an open mind for outside experiences. I would combine your experience with mine, which I found to be extremely different although the foundation was the same. Like eating ice cream. We ate the same ice cream, but the experience differed from person to person.

When I camped out, I would encounter wild animals and crazy insects more than the regular youngster. From wild bears and poisonous snakes to gigantic spiders to footlong caterpillars, things crept and crawled on campouts. I am forever scared of spiders due to walking through many webs and discovering surprises.

What the Boy Scouts Taught Me

By Michael McCall

When I look back on my childhood there are many choices that helped shape the person I am today. One of the most impactful choices I made was to join the Boy Scouts of America. I became a part of this group around 10 years old and would stay an active member till my senior year in high school.

My mother had done a great job of raising us kids and allowing me to be a Boy Scout was another effort to reinforce my independence and help me acquire skills I would need to navigate this world. There is a vital role that joining a community group plays in a child’s development and it is one we are unfortunately getting away from in this digital age. Let me take a moment of your time to elaborate.

I was a shy kid growing up and not extremely talented at anything notable, which meant I was able to go through life fairly unnoticed by society. This is a great thing for a shy kid but not when that shy kid becomes an adult. Where do you think the saying “A closed mouth doesn’t get fed” comes from?

My trip to Europe was pivotal to my maturity as it awoke me to foreign ways of life. It got me out of my one-town, one-world way of looking at things. After seeing nude advertisements in France, and coming across the very young drinking age in Germany, I felt more comfortable dealing with others upon my return.

Being in sports got me in the best shape of my life. We were told that often, but it never sank in until my early 20s just how true that was. I was in football, track and field, weightlifting, choir, and Boy Scouts — all at one time. Not to mention church youth group activities like church camp, school dances and church dances, and sports camps.

It’s amazing that I still had time for videos games, air soft guns, paint ball guns, and movie theater visits. The mall was a great place to meet up and Starbucks was a group-studying gold mine.

In all, I feel like activities in the rest of my life can’t match those of my youth. I’m not living quite as vividly in my early adult years but that’s great. I don’t have the energy and I don’t exercise as much as I did in my early teens.

If you want to live a life that is truly authentic to your desires, you need to learn how to speak up for yourself and do what needs to be done to accomplish your goals. This is where the Boy Scouts of America saved me and made me prepared to live a full life of my choices.

Through the Scouts I was taught how to work with people from diverse backgrounds, be comfortable with being uncomfortable, and survive with very little. While I thought those days and weekend camping trips were just about enjoying nature and learning some new skills, I later realized the true impact being part of this group would later have.

At 13, I was already leading the weekly meetings and working with the adults to plan the camping trips. So, in three years I went from not speaking and just showing up to showing up and helping run the show with kids much older than me. This would help me later in life when I would become a manager or superintendent for places I worked.

Another valuable trait I learned was the art of communication. Today I can say that I have a reasonable ability to com-

I have some behavioral regrets but for the most part I can’t complain and must be grateful for the opportunities I possessed. I camped out in many states with the Boy Scouts of America, I met different congregations of youth in church youth expeditions, and I played against many schools in extracurricular activities. My youth wasn’t one of a kind, but it can be narrowed down to a few and proud like the U.S. Marines.

Jason Turner is a STREETZine vendor and writer in The Stewpot’s Writers’ Workshop.

municate with anyone regardless of their background. This is quite a change from the kid who didn’t like to talk to strangers. I believe joining a community group like the Scouts helped pull me out of my shell and forced me to learn to communicate with others. This is why I view this program and others like it as a crucial part of a child’s development.

Without the experiences the Scouts brought into my life I think I would still be that shy kid sitting in the back of class. I don’t think I would have achieved the things I have in my life or lived through the tough spots.

I will say one thing that the Scouts taught me was the importance of being resilient. It is a strength I have used my whole adult life and I also attribute it to helping me get out of a life of homelessness. For all the individuals you see on the streets, I wonder if they would be in a better place if they knew that a “closed mouth doesn’t get fed.” Communication is key, and a little bit of resilience will get you a long way.

Michael McCall is a writer in The Stewpot’s Writers’ Workshop.

Artwork by Stewpot Artist Jennifer Moore.

Climbing Hill Peak

By A Woman in a Dallas Shelter

A while ago, I read a book about a mountain climbing experience. One sentence stood out to me. It said climbing a mountain is not going to solve any problem. I agreed with it from my own experience, although in my case I climbed a hill peak. It was 1,827 feet in height and 173 feet short of being in the mountain category. I gained a perspective that wasn’t clear to me until then.

The hills northwest of the place where I grew up could be seen from the kitchen window of the apartment my family lived in. They appeared dark blue on most days due to their distance. It was a stable feature in my otherwise tumultuous teenage years. It was part of my habit to look at the hills every day when I stood washing my hands at the kitchen sink. I had visited the park at the foot of the hill peak before on school field trips. But I never thought of climbing it myself.

It was an uneventful morning in my high school senior year. Everything went as expected until after lunch, when I had a sudden impulse to climb the peak of the western hills. The pressure from preparing for the national college entrance exams had become constant and micromanaged. My anxiety towards life at that point was one that had no solution, as if I had not acquired the necessary tools that I should have in the six years since I became a teenager — tools that could prepare me not only academically but also socially to be a confident and posi-

A View from Nature

By Vicki Gies

Dallas has had a fairly mild winter this year, except for several days in January when the temperatures fell below freezing and stayed below freezing. Mother Nature gave us a taste of spring last week, but now it’s back to freezing temperatures.

My husband and I live in a tent with our pets on White Rock Creek. It’s mostly peaceful here, and I love being with nature. There are no campsites here, so it is very quiet. We just picked a spot away from the roads, houses, and apartments. There is a runoff creek close to us, and lots of trees and bushes.

When it is extremely cold, we have a

tive young adult in the coming years.

I arrived at the foot of the hill after two bus rides. I went straight to climbing the hill. It was a tedious two-hour climb as the hill was neither steep nor picturesque. The relatively mild incline worked for me as I didn’t have a naturally strong foothold. It was in late spring. The leaves of the maple trees would be of a flaming hot red color if it were autumn. But now they were clad in green.

I stopped from time to time. It was a weekday. There were hardly any other climbers. Instead, a large number of visitors were enjoying the park at the foot of the hill. The noise from traffic and people milling about down below accompanied me all the way up. At one point, I asked myself why I was here climbing a hill. Wasn’t I supposed to go with the flow, follow my parents and teachers’ demands and imitate my classmates’ example to work on test preps at this very moment?

I didn’t remember a time when I went to school happy, listened to my teachers’ lectures rapturously or went back home to relax and did my homework with a good heart. I could be physically in class but mentally dazed by the violence that went on at home. I was gravely affected by the hostility towards one another among my family members.

As I neared the peak, I stopped and nestled myself in the tall and fragrant grass, the kind that had center shoots with green and maroon-colored growth at the top resembling caterpillars. Suddenly,

portable propane heater and thick sleeping bags, along with several big blankets. Our church helps us out a lot, as well as a couple of business managers close to our area. We also have our truck to warm up in.

Even when it is frigid, we couldn’t and wouldn’t want to go to a shelter because I have several bad memories of the shelters I’ve gone to in the past. Besides, no shelter would take our pets. We have three dogs and three cats, and they are family. Even if shelters did take pets, I wouldn’t go because I don’t like big crowds of people. I’m really more comfortable in my comfort zone, with nature.

To pass the time in the dead of winter, I watch movies or TV shows on my phone. We go to church on Sundays. Sometimes

I was surrounded by silence. The noise from the foot of the hill and beyond was completely absorbed by the dense vegetation around me.

I sat motionless, obscured by nature’s hideout. The peace and quiet I experienced was not only consoling but also illuminating. An insight dawned on me at that point as to why I, unlike most other youth of my age, was so susceptible to the storms raging at home and the level of jealousy-laden competition in school. My timid nature and my preference for peace and quiet at all costs did not dovetail well with an environment that valued toughness and high achievement. I must have sat there for a long time. When I looked again, the sun was close to setting and the sky was a dusky orange. I managed to make myself get down the hill as quickly as I could and went homeward with a heavy heart.

In later years, I often thought of the spot where I sat down near the peak. It was a day of reckoning. I realized on that hill that I didn’t feel up to this thing called living on those terms dictated by the social norms. Although I rushed back home after the descent, I only did so unwillingly. I would have gone straight to a shelter for youth fleeing domestic violence had there been one in the place I grew up. I can say now with confidence that the homeless shelter is a salvation for souls like me. It’s a home that didn’t happen in my youth.

A Woman in a Shelter in Dallas is a writer in The Stewpot’s Writers’ Workshop.

we go to Walmart or other stores just to spend some time indoors. Or we may go to a friend’s home. Being friendly and truthful to the business people in our area helps in times like these. They help us a lot.

I am now 72 years old. I didn’t think that I’d make it living out here again, but somehow, with God’s help, I’ve made it!

I dedicate this story to my family members who have gone before me. They were the best teachers of having common sense and self-preservation. I learned a lot from them and those “lessons” gave me the knowledge of how to survive.

Vicki Gies is a STREETZine vendor and frequent STREETZine contributor.

The Miracle Child

By David Arnaz

Way back in the early ‘80s, I remember running around as a young boy with my brothers, sister, and cousins. Playing, fishing, taking care of the chores, and learning to be responsible, all at once. We had so much fun growing up in the country with all the freedom that any child could dream of.

We’d start every day by taking care of our hygiene and getting dressed for school or summer activities. We also had outside chores to do: tending to the chickens, hogs, and garden, etc. I still remember the cotton field across the street that was full of all kinds of critters.

With so many things to do, there was never a dull day. Going fishing with no fishing pole, the boys would get in the lake while the girls stayed on the bank, waiting for us to catch a fish with our hands and throw it to them. Then they’d hit the fish on the head with a hammer and throw it in a bucket of water.

Everyone had a BB gun. We would shoot birds from the sky, cut them open, remove the breast and clean, flour and season it for frying. Mmm, now that was good eating. We could walk down the street and pick berries, plums, peaches, and pears from anyone’s yard and we wouldn’t get in trouble. They wanted us to pick and eat what we wanted.

One day, I was out playing with my cousins, barefoot, when I stepped on a nail

The Pivotal Events of My Youth

By Darin Thomas

I grew up in Dallas in Oak Cliff near Kiest Park. By the time I was 13 years old, I had started stealing cars, using drugs, and then left home. I was hanging with a gang in D-Town and running the streets. It was hard. But girls and selling drugs was the life for me. I got my first car when I was 13. Stealing cars was what we did.

I moved out of my Granny Criv’s house at that age and stayed with my homeboy, his two sisters, and his mother. I was having sex with one sister and continued living the street life, smoking weed, and using PCP.

By the time I was 12, I got locked up in ju-

that went far into my foot. Without tears, I quietly limped into the house and called out, “Big Momma! Big Momma!” She answered, “Boy, why are you calling me like that?” “Big Momma, I need you,” I said. “I stepped on a nail and I’m bleeding.” When she rushed into the room, she already had pliers in her hand. She lifted my foot, grabbed the nail with the pliers and yanked it out. After pouring peroxide and alcohol on it, she dried and wrapped it up, and off I went back out to play.

It wasn’t long afterwards when I became very ill. Lying on the floor next to my brothers and sister beside the water air conditioner, I was burning up with a fever. Someone yelled out, “Big Momma! David is burning up!” Big Momma put her hand on my head and immediately said, “Jump out of the bed!” She took me outside, put me in the truck, hosed me down with cold water, and rubbed ice and alcohol all over my body. There was nothing else to do then but make the trip to the city.

When we arrived at the children’s hospital ER, it was several hours before I was seen. Not much later, I was given my release papers and sent home. So Big Momma, two brothers, my sister, and myself had to ride another hour back home. There, as I lay beside Big Momma, she realized that my fever was getting worse, so we all got in the truck and headed back to the city.

In the ER, a nurse noticed us and knew something was wrong. She walked up and put her hand on my head, hollered for the doctor, and I was rushed to the

venile detention and then jail for robbery and car theft. I got sentences of eight years, four years, and two years.

I got out when I was 21 and started back selling drugs. I got a girl pregnant, and we had a son. Things went bad, my son’s mother became a different person, and I met another woman. She was two months pregnant when I met her. I got a marriage license and we stayed together for eight years and had one daughter.

I have written about this before, but all of these events occurred after I watched my father murder my mother in our yard when I was nine years old. Our house had caught on fire, but I saw her on fire in our front yard. My father watched her burning before he did anything to help

back where I immediately went into surgery. Eventually, I went through three open-heart surgeries and was cut in my chest, left underarm, left shoulder blade and back.

It was the third surgery when I passed away.

In the waiting room, my whole family was told to come pay their last respects. Right away, my great-grandmother started praying. My mom, dad, both grannies, my aunts, brothers and sister were all weeping over my body. Then you wouldn’t believe what happened. A miracle. When that machine started beeping, they all looked around with eyes wide open and white as snow — as if they had witnessed the coming of Christ — and shouted, “It’s a miracle!” I was alive.

I spent the next three months in therapy learning how to use my left arm and hand again. Children from all over the hospital would come by my room to touch my hand. On Halloween, they would stop by and give me so much candy that, when I left the hospital in November, I still had bags. My mom spent the next nine months changing, cleaning, and dressing my wounds.

My grandmother is 82 years old now and this is the story she loves to tell, with the biggest smile on her face. Her oldest grandson was, and still is, her miracle.

David Arnaz is a writer in The Stewpot’s Writers’ Workshop.

her. My three sisters, brother, and I ran up the street to a neighbor’s place. She saw our house was on fire and called the fire and police departments and an ambulance.

My father went to prison, and I have spent a lot of time coming to terms with what happened. My father is out of prison, and I have visited him twice. I am now 51 and these are the pivotal events of my early days.

Darin Thomas is a writer in The Stewpot’s Writers’ Workshop.

Distributing STREETZine is protected by the First Amendment.

STREETZine vendors are self employed and set their own hours.

They are required to wear a vendor badge at all times when distributing the paper. In order to distribute STREETZine, vendors agree to comply with Dallas City Ordinances.

If at any time you feel a vendor is in violation of any Dallas City Ordinance please contact us immediately with the vendor name or number at streetzine@thestewpot.org

CHAPTER 31, SECTION 31-35 of the Dallas City Code PANHANDLING OFFENSES

Solicitation by coercion; solicitation near designated locations and facilities; solicitation anywhere in the city after sunset and before sunrise any day of the week. Exception can be made on private property with advance written permission of the owner, manager, or other person in control of the property.

A person commits an offense if he conducts a solicitation to any person placing or preparing to place money in a parking meter.

The ordinance specifically applies to solicitations at anytime within 25 feet of:

Automatic teller machines; Exterior public pay phones; Public transportation stops; Self service car washes; Self service gas pumps; An entrance or exit of a bank, credit union or similar financial institution; Outdoor dining areas of fixed food establishments.