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By Wendy Rojo
How do we become people who can be proud of ourselves? How do we become the best version of ourselves? How do we learn how to become these good people?
I attribute my values to what I learned from my parents, friends, teachers, culture, education, and experiences. My mother would say to me growing up, “Tienes que ser humilde, tener compasión, y tienes que ser amable.” This means, “You have to be humble, compassionate, and kind.” Little did she know, but these values would shape the person I became and ultimately helped me choose my educational and career paths.
Our core values not only help us choose who we become, but they also help guide us during turbulent times. Our values cannot be taken away from us, and we get to expand them throughout our lifetime.
Our core values not only help us choose who we become, but they also help guide us during turbulent times.
For example, participants in our writers’ workshop discussed at length the Grants Pass case the Supreme Court of the United States recently ruled on. A majority of the justices decided that it was not cruel to punish those who are unhoused and occupying public parks. The case made the participants reflect on how we treat those who society may look as “less than,” and the case also gave a voice to those who may not have had a voice before. Suddenly a group of people who may have never had a chance to plea their case was in front of the Supreme Court arguing their defense.
Homelessness is challenging because everyone deserves a roof over their head, but as a society, we may not always be proactive in
making sure everyone has housing because of the various issues we face.
Luckily, through Dallas County housing programs and various organizational housing programs the City of Dallas has been able to reduce the number of unhoused individuals in Dallas. According to Fighting Homelessness, at the January Point-in-Time count this year a total of 3,718 people were experiencing homelessness. That is a 24% reduction since 2021. Many of us would agree that one unhoused person is one too many but having numerical evidence that homelessness is declining is good reassurance that we are headed in the right direction.
According to Fighting Homelessness, at the January Point-in-Time count this year a total of 3,718 people were experiencing homelessness.
Homelessness can and does affect everyone but the way we react in those situations and the way we approach those who may be struggling are based on our values and our knowledge about the subject. Our values stay the same over time, but they evolve with our
experiences and our errors.
Many participants in the writer’s workshop mentioned looking towards their religion for guidance. Religion does play a role in how we shape our thoughts and values. In fact, the Pew Research Center found that there is a clear link between what people find essential in their religion and their day-to-day activities and behavior. Pew Research also found that Americans who identified as highly religious were happier and highly involved within their families.
In addition to religion, it is crucial to understand that we experience various adversities that challenge our core values but thankfully our values are uniquely ours. These values shape who we are and luckily, they guide who we are and can allow us to be the best version of ourselves.
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
By Reverend Amos Jerman Disasa
Editor’s Note: This essay is excerpted from a sermon that Rev. Disasa delivered at the First Presbyterian Church of Dallas on June 25,2024.
I’ve heard these words before. Yes, these words, the words about the things that we should think about. These specific words about truth, honor, justice, purity, pleasure, commendation, excellence, and praise.
I’ve heard these words before, and I’ve heard others that sound the same, such as “focus on the positive” and “make everyday matter” and “count your blessings.” I’ve heard these words before; common and concise, attributed to no one in particular, belonging to everyone, the copyright long since expired, these words are available for free to anyone writing a graduation speech, a wedding toast, or remarks after accepting a lifetime achievement award in front of a live audience.
I’ve heard these words before. They belong to a basic set of rhetorical Lego blocks. Stack them together in any order, it doesn’t matter, we know what you mean. Finally beloved, I want to close by saying: Whatever is true, ignore the haters; whatever is honorable, don’t forget how lucky we are; whatever is just, life is short; whatever is commendable, think about these things.
I’ve heard these words before. They are safe words. The inoffensive jargon of morals and virtues. As long as we keep it breezy and ignore the temptation to qualify truth, justice, purity, and pleasure, we’ll find praise for these words in cultures ancient and modern.
The question of how to be a good person is universal, and to a great degree, so are the answers. Shakespeare, Homer, the Psalms, Zora Neale Hurston, Buddha, Sesame Street, the gospel of Jesus Christ, and the Apostle Paul in his letter to the Philippians all agree: Whatever is true, whatever is just, whatever is pure, think about these things.
I’ve heard these words before. My friend Sandra said them at the end. I sat with
her, this time at her kitchen table. She made us coffee. We drank it with banana bread, or pound cake, I don’t remember exactly. Her head was covered with a scarf or a hat, I don’t remember exactly. Her eyes were still alive, the rest of her body refused to keep up. The cancer had progressed too far. So, our meeting was short, just long enough for her to tell me she didn’t want her memorial to last more than 20 minutes.
Actually, she didn’t tell me. She’d already typed it up and put it in a neatly formatted document that she wouldn’t give to me until I promised to make sure people weren’t forced to sing at her memorial service. More than once that day she said, “there’s nothing worse than listening to a congregation try to sing at a memorial service when they clearly don’t want to.” After I promised to hold back the singing, her final instructions about how to find and hold beauty in the world sounded more familiar. I’d heard those words before.
Dan said them at the end. He was in prison; I was a visitor.
He lived there; I was just passing through. Someone from church convinced me to go. Not just for a couple hours, the commitment was for a weekend. The state correctional facility partnered with local churches to host weekend spiritual retreats for inmates. I was there to help facilitate the retreat as a small group leader. At least that’s how I remember it but really my job title doesn’t matter because I barely spoke that weekend.
I was a young buck, fresh from seminary where I’d had my mind blown and my soul shook by books, and lectures, and conversations with classmates about the unmistakable witness in scripture of God’s call to work for justice on behalf of the oppressed, the lonely, the prisoner, and the orphan, all the people with their backs pressed against the wall.
I shouldn’t have been grumbling on the 20-minute drive from my home to the state prison each morning of that weekend, but I was. I knew we’d spend all day in the company of guys like Dan who was in for life, without ever talking generally about the systemic failures that result in an overrepresentation of Black
Continued on page 5
By Brenda Snitzer
Why do we do what we do? What causes us to walk in the direction we go? What has shaped us, created us to live our life in the way that we do? When do we come to understand the core values that we hold most dear and cause us to daily pursue our passions?
I was in my 30s when I first started thinking about what I hold dear. My early years were shaped by a strong, loving family that included extended members who were caring, compassionate, and served others. My parents were strong leaders in their family, work, and community.
I naturally gained those as values. I have always felt God’s presence in my life and came to receive my savior Jesus Christ at an early age, and started attending church at the age of 10. Thus, my values have been shaped by and completely interwoven with my faith in Christ and how God calls me to live.
My work life began in my teen years. My parents expected me to earn money to pay for certain “extra things,” despite their ability to pay for those. They were teaching me a sense of responsibility and the pleasure of hard work.
I gravitated toward work that helped people, first as a camp counselor, then later pursuing teaching, counseling, and social services. In my first few positions, I
ended up working in communities where folks were considered working poor.
I witnessed the struggle that families and children faced to do the most basic things that most of us take for granted: work, food, housing, safety, and even education. As I worked in a low-income neighborhood as a student teacher, I learned that many of my students had to wake themselves up and get themselves and their siblings to school because their parents were working an overnight job. This was when I also learned the importance of a free breakfast and lunch for children at school. Otherwise, they might not eat.
My first job after college and graduate school was as a probation officer in the inner city of Dallas. That was in the late 1980s. The neighborhoods had a lack of jobs and few, if any, businesses, restaurants, and convenience stores. Nor did they have grocery stores, banks, or other necessary resources. The folks on my caseload were supposed to pay fees and be employed. However, there weren’t nearby jobs and bus transportation to an employer across town was not like it is today. (While better, it remains challenging for folks to find work on a bus route.)
My vision is to help others discover the joy in helping others. My mission is to build and lead programs that promote love and compassion for the poor, lost, and hurting.
After these jobs, I finally found my passion in the nonprofit world. I especially found my purpose in organizations that help people living in poverty or who lack resources. That was in my mid-twenties.
It wasn’t until my early 30s that I started becoming aware of my core values.
I actually developed a vision and mission for my life after reading The Path by Laurie Beth Jones. Her book teaches you to discover that for yourself. My vision is to help others discover the joy in helping others. My mission is to build and lead programs that promote love and compassion for the poor, lost, and hurting.
I also wrote out my personal values and what drives me in my daily work: service, love, integrity, honesty, purpose, trust, compassion, social justice, excellence, team work, responsibility, commitment, goals, data, and learning.
It is good to discover why we do things the way we do, but also what is important to us in our daily living.
These are my core values. I try to live them out to the best of my ability. It is good to discover why we do things the way we do, but also what is important to us in our daily living. I know my values have been shaped by God, my parents, scripture, the faith communities I have been blessed to be a part of, my friends, and the incredible people I have worked with that also aspire to serve others.
My prayer is that God uses me to His glory and that I live a mission-focused life of service, creating relationships of substance, and helping build others up as we walk with one another and those who need us to walk alongside them.
Brenda Snitzer is the executive director of The Stewpot.
By Poppy Sundeen
When you meet Robin Craddock, you might not notice her compass ring. But she does. She glances at it often during her workday as manager of The Stewpot’s Permanent Supportive Housing Program. The ring reminds her of the reason she does what she does: to follow the direction her faith set forth for her.
The compass ring she wears has a companion piece thousands of miles away. “When my best friend went to the Holy Land several years ago, I gave her a trinket with a compass attached and asked her to leave it somewhere. She picked the best possible place — she threw it into the Sea of Galilee.” Robin finds inspiration in the connection. “The compass matched to my ring is now literally where Jesus walked. That’s where I want to get my direction from.”
Good works abroad and at home
Robin’s faith was instrumental in guiding her to the work she does today. “I didn’t become a Christian until I was 30. That’s when different things started being important. It made the focus not about me and gave me a greater focus outside myself.”
The newfound focus led Robin to Africa, where she worked with a group that established an orphanage. “Part of my heart is still there. I learned so much.” A year later, she returned to Texas where she applied what she’d learned to helping people in the Dallas street community, first at the Austin Street shelter and later at Metrocare, Dallas County’s mental health provider. Then in 2021 she joined The Stewpot to help get its rehousing program off the ground.
“My core values are based in the teachings of Jesus — treating others as we would want to be treated and loving our neighbors as ourselves.” She applies those teachings as she interacts with Stewpot clients. “When I meet somebody, I ask them their name and shake their hand, because a lot of our people aren’t
seen. They relax when they realize I’m not judging them but respect them for who they are.”
Advocating for others and helping them advocate for themselves
The respect that begins when Robin meets a new client continues throughout the rehousing process. “Not only do I want my clients to have a roof over head, but I want it to be someplace they’re proud to call home.” That means speaking up if available housing isn’t up to par. “We’re really picky about where we’ll place our clients. That goes back to the core belief that we are all chosen children of God. We’ve helped some of our clients get out of apartments where things were really bad.”
She both stands up for her clients and helps them develop productive ways to become their own advocates. “I speak up when they don’t have power and empower them to advocate for themselves in appropriate ways.
The Stewpot’s street-to-home process usually comes together quickly, thanks to streamlining and strong partnerships throughout the network of services. “We minimize the hoops they have to jump through and are able to accomplish in weeks what used to take months.”
Once the paperwork is completed, it’s time to turn an empty apartment into a home. “We provide everything clients need to get settled, including furniture and household supplies, plus welcome baskets put together by Stewpot volunteers.”
Salary is just a small part of Robin’s compensation for helping unhoused people get resettled into apartments of their own. The lion’s share of her payment comes on move-in day. That’s when she gets to witness the fruits of her labor — the pure joy on the faces of clients as they look around their new homes.
“What we do day-to-day is difficult, but move-in days are reminders that all the other stuff is worth it. I can’t imagine doing anything else. The gifts that God has given me — I don’t know where else I would use them.”
Not too long ago, Robin had a small compass design tattooed on her arm. It serves as an additional reminder of the core values that guide her. “I got to know who this Jesus guy was, and He became very tangible to me. I call it a simple faith because it’s like this is what He told us to do. He gives me these gifts, these passions, and I follow where He leads.”
Poppy Sundeen, a Dallas writer, is a member of the STREETZine editorial board.
Philippians 4:4-9
4 Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice.
5 Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near.
6 Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.
7 And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
8 Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.
9 Keep on doing the things that you have learned and received and heard and seen in me, and the God of peace will be with you. Continued from page 2
and Brown people in the criminal justice system. In addition to my self-righteousness, I had other reasons to grumble on the ride: I was intimidated, scared, and unsure in the presence of men that were in jail after being convicted for things I’d only seen on TV.
Sandra was sentenced to death. Dan, life without parole. Both of them had already passed from this life to the next. Their bodies were still here, but they were thinking about other things.
Before our final meal, each small group circled up for a closing round of benedictions. There were five of us in my group, including Dan. After each person, including me, reflected on what we would take from the experience, we went back around one more time and blessed each other with affirmations. Dan went last. He looked right at me while he spoke, like he knew my presence all weekend was halfhearted. I don’t remember the exact words, just his eyes. I’d heard those words before. Count your blessings, whatever is just, don’t take anything for granted, whatever is true, think about these things.
I’d heard those words before, but they sounded different when Sandra and Dan said them. They spoke from the other side. I’d heard those words before, but this time they’d traveled a long distance to find me. Sandra was sentenced to death. Dan, life without parole. Both of them had already passed from this life to the next. Their bodies were still here, but they were thinking about other things.
Free from the need to hide the truth to protect their egos, their future, their legacies, the truth had found them. They were thinking about other things.
Free from the need to manage their reputation in order to appear honorable, they had been honored. They were thinking about other things.
Free from the urgent temptation to judge others in order to justify their own actions, they were certain only God is just. They were thinking about other things.
Free from the compulsion to manage outcomes, they were satisfied by the pleasures of each passing moment. They were thinking about other things.
So was Paul. He wrote this benediction from prison. We’ve heard these words before, but they sound different when they come from the other side. Like Sandra and Dan, Paul now has plenty of time to think about whatever is true, honorable, just, pure, pleasing, commendable.
We’ve heard these words before, but this time they’re spoken to us by someone who thought about these things and still ended up in prison after being physically tortured. While he was thinking about these things, his persecutors thought about whatever was untrue, dishonorable, unjust, impure, displeasing, and avoidable.
So why bother, then? I can’t answer that question for you. And neither will Paul. Missing from his benediction is any promise that we will be rewarded for thinking about these things. In fact, the opposite is true. Instead of reassuring us that thinking about these things, these virtues, will lead to a good outcome, he departs from the script in verse nine.
We’ve heard those words before, but these words in verse nine sound like gibberish if you are sitting across the kitchen
table from your pastor planning your funeral. They are gobbledygook if you are halfway through a life sentence. Keep on doing the things, Paul says. The things you learned from me about Jesus.
Paul is talking here about following the way of Jesus.
Remember the things I told you led to Jesus’s arrest and crucifixion? Keep on doing those things.
Keep on doing the things I told you resulted in Jesus’ disciples abandoning him.
Keep on doing the things that threatened the religious establishment.
Keep on doing the things, like practicing non-resistance, praying for your enemies, welcoming children, embracing the poor, loving your neighbor, grieving with hope, forgiving debts, and taking up your cross.
Keep on doing the things that will introduce an almost unbearable amount of uncertainty into your life. Keep on doing the things that are impossible to sustain unless the God of peace is with you.
You know the thing where you’ve been sitting with your friend that’s too depressed to ask how you are doing? Keep on doing that thing.
You know the thing where you’ve been eating lunch with your co-worker who everyone complains about because they aren’t pulling their weight? Keep on doing that thing.
You know the thing where you’ve been quick to listen and slow to anger? Keep on doing that thing?
You know the thing where you’ve been quiet with your charisma? Keep on doing that thing.
You know the thing where you’ve been praying with someone that has a terminal illness? Keep on doing that thing.
God doesn’t need you to be a Christian superhero. You aren’t responsible for the outcome. But we have been called to keep doing the thing.
Reverend Amos Jerman Disasa is senior pastor of the First Presbyterian Church of Dallas.
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 their core values.
By Savita Vega
If I had to sum up my most fundamental core value, I would probably point to Ecclesiastes 5:9: “The profit of the earth is for all,” and yet I would uphold that I am not a “religious” person.
I can’t now pinpoint from where this viewpoint arose but I think that the fashion college I attended right out of high school might have served as the original crucible. This was not because I was exposed to any left-wing ideas there; the college and its faculty could hardly have been more conservative. It was simply that it was there that I developed a keen internal suspicion that the jobs we were training to pursue — fashion design, visual merchandising, fashion show production — in fact, the entire fashion industry in which these professions were embedded was empty to its core, devoid of any real value on a human level.
So it was that, about five years later, after a successful though brief career in retail visual merchandising and store design, I found myself resigning from a store manager’s position in San Diego, which I had only just taken a few months prior and which paid a salary that would be considered good even today. From my little apartment in Ocean Beach overlooking the waves, I dragged all my furniture out onto the street that Saturday and sold it in a sidewalk sale. Then, within a couple of weeks, I was off to Mexico for a year.
I didn’t find what I was looking for there, though. I only found suffering. An old man who would sit on the village church steps and beg every day in the scorching sun, a sugar-cane worker with burns over most of his body, who had been fired from his job without compensation after he got caught behind the break-line as they were burning the fields. Sometimes, I would sit with him on the step for a while. Clear liquid would ooze from his bandages and flies would gather over the nubs that were his amputated limbs.
Then there were the children, like little Audelia, 10 years old, who, instead of attending school, sold Chiclets to tourists
in the Zocalo in Oaxaca so that her family could eat. Suffering. Or the ones less fortunate than Audelia, like dozens of children I saw in the massive, gaping trash pits outside Tuxtla Gutiérrez. Suffering.
But suffering was not reserved for the young and the elderly; there was plenty to go around for everyone. For example, the largely indigenous families, whole villages and swaths of the coastline that were being forcibly “evicted” from their own lands by the Mexican military during the period I was there. At that time, the large hotel corporations had only to scout out a perfect pristine cove, stake claim to it by notifying the ruling party in Mexico of their intention to build yet another fivestar, all-inclusive resort there, and voilà, the Mexican military would march in the very next week and, if necessary, start torching homes.
Nor was that suffering addressed or abated when, while living next in Italy for a year, I would often go and sit inside one of the many basilicas or cathedrals. The suffering Jesus on the altar had no solace to offer against the backdrop of opulence that is the Catholic Church. It wasn’t until I returned to the U.S. to again attend college and minor in religious studies
— eventually specializing in liberation theology — that I began to find answers that did address the disparity and suffering that deeply troubled me. It was then that I met and studied under Ivan Petrella, a Latin American liberation theorist. All that I read and studied under his mentorship shaped my world view profoundly, and as complex and far-reaching as the web of economic and social theories that make up liberation theology are, I think it can still best be summed up in that brief phrase from Ecclesiastes: “The profit of the earth is for all.”
In my view, this means that, when we witness others being left out from the feast, we are morally bound as human beings to get up from our seat and gather in to the table those who have been pushed aside. It means that everything that we use, every consumer product, and everything that we do must be measured against that yardstick: Does it ensure that the profit of the earth is for all rather than enabling the profit to pool in the hands of the few at the expense of the many?
Savita Vega is a writer in The Stewpot’s Writers’ Workshop.
By Eric Oliver
Growing up, I spent many an hour in the passenger seat of my mom’s Oldsmobile. Mothra, as I styled her, had a particularly vocal form of road rage, so I absorbed all manner of colorful expressions. Stuck behind a driver dilly-dallying at a stoplight? She would hurl down her window and bray, “We got three colors, which one ya waiting for?”
Homelessness has torched quite a few of my worldviews, but a personal philosophy has emerged from the crucible. In life, the only constant is change; when I’m stuck, I’m missing life. It’s all too tempting to dwell on what was, what ought to be, or when things went awry. Her blaring question, though, cuts through all that, calling me to get busy living — ‘cause the alternative ain’t looking too good.
The only constant is change; what am I waiting on, anyway? I was a fat kid, so I have some experience in needing a jolt to get off the couch. It’s seeing the scale tick down bit by bit that renews and cements my motivation. But, in the beginning, that ticking down of the scale hasn’t happened yet. Say I decide to begin pogo-sticking to work, but then wait on my not-yet-existing motivation to appear. I’ll probably be reaching for my car keys
By Jason Turner
Some of the core values and actions that guide my life choices can be summed up with an anonymous quote, “it’s nice to be important, and more important to be nice.”
Common courtesy directs most of my decisions and plays a serious role in my life. Being kind is key to feeling great and getting smiles out of others. It makes daily life easier and avoids confrontations.
Another value in my life is being a Christian and putting Christ first in choices in dealing with others. Loving others comes to mind when speaking about a Christlike approach to life. Doing that grants understanding, which the Bible says is wisdom. The more understanding a person has the more able they are to confide in others and accomplish goals and quests.
most mornings. Good for traffic, bad for innovative locomotion. And if my wishedfor change is something more substantive, I’m likely to beat myself up for not having enough motivation. There must be something wrong with me; perhaps I don’t want it enough. Girl, snatch that despair out by the roots; it only leads to more stagnation. Luckily, the antidote is action; action begets motivation.
The only constant is change; so, ride the change. When I feel unmotivated, even everyday tasks seem ten times heavier; new projects, practically insurmountable. Sitting around waiting for energy makes me a slave to motivation, which may or may not pop in. When in this rut, I envision achieving my goal. This might seem happy-clappy, but it’s a way of tying whatever I ought to be doing back to the reason I want to do it in the first place, shifting my perspective. Time wasted waiting around now looks like forcing my goals to wait for me at the finish line. That just doesn’t dill my pickle.
The only constant is change; it’s coming, ready or not. The most beguiling cause of stagnation is the one that feels the most sensible, wanting everything to be perfectly in order before getting started. Every time I’ve needed to make a lifechange, an abiding discomfort heralded that need. This forces me to explore what
I was raised as a Boy Scout. “Doing a good turn daily” was the slogan. I enjoy helping people if I can. I like it so much that it frustrates me when I can’t offer anything. But if, by God, I have an answer someone is looking for I’ll be glad to stop and give my friendly take on the situation.
Having core values that guide your actions is great for being able to move through society. “If you don’t stand for anything, you’ll fall for everything,” is another anonymous quote I like to use.
Knowing yourself and having issues that are important to you and that you will stand for is important to carrying oneself properly.
Having clear opinions relates to knowing yourself. If one can manage to learn, then the way we carry ourselves wouldn’t be difficult.
You don’t have to be outspoken about your beliefs, but it builds character to
needs to change. It’s tempting to wait until all of life’s little messes are under control, to find the fabled perfect time. Trouble is: 1) I can’t remember a time when all of my little messes have been under control; and 2) If that suddenly happened, would I still feel the drive of discomfort? For life-level changes, there is no perfect time except now. Take the steps I can now, and then see how things evolve.
I’d love to tell you that I embrace change naturally. But I can’t. With personal philosophies, though, progress is key, not perfection. We got three colors — stop, giddy up, and go. Each has its purpose, but I need a reminder of tarrying too long at any crossroads. There are times when change is unwelcome, or when I fear what it might entail. But change will come, in some form, regardless. Embracing it — choosing “go” — puts me in a positive mindset and back in the driver’s seat. After all, what are difficulties if not opportunities? I can accept that I won’t always take the right road, but in this perspective, I will be in the best position to change course if needed. And in those moments, I hear Mothra’s voice nudging me along, “We got three colors, which one ya waiting for?”
Eric Oliver is a writer in The Stewpot’s Writers’ Workshop.
stand up for what you believe. I also think honesty is important. Not brutally honest to where you’re hurting others’ feelings and getting yourself in trouble. But it also means not stealing and spreading rumors.
To paraphrase this, doing the right thing is the gist of it all. That helps me feel like a good person and cope with life and how hard it can be at times.
Jason Turner is a writer in The Stewpot Writers’ Workshop and a STREETZine vendor.
By Anonymous
I first heard the saying “to each their own” as a teenager with the skewed perspective of a youth who grew up in an abusive home environment. The saying, which filtered through my experience, meant I could no more make my family members get along than they could reverse my birth. I lived in despair and wondered when the end of the weekly melee and the beginning of peace in my home would be, where the pervasive mood had been either overcast or tempestuous.
A crucial neuro-psychological development throughout one’s growing years stalled in my case. It’s a sense of self which most people begin to develop at an early age and continue into maturity. I had poor self-awareness, an important element in becoming a self-motivated, independent, and productive adult. Although intellectually I was on par and average in school, I never thought of myself or anyone else as an entity that possessed a clear boundary, an ability to self-regulate, and a right to uninhibited and unhindered self-expression.
My actions came from impulses, bypassing the command center where deliberate judgments and decisions should be made preceding any action. I used to take it upon myself to save my classmate’s deteriorating math grade, when they were perfectly comfortable with failing math, all the while forgetting my own homework. Until the teacher asked me to go back to my seat as the next session had already begun, I was still hovering near the chalkboard and making improvements to the drawings my classmates had done in our art class earlier.
These were examples of my poorly developed sense of self. I was thoroughly unaware of the ostentatious nature of my actions. Once I was told that people with low self-esteem were the same people who were arrogant and condescending. This I agree was true in my case for the longest time.
I often underestimated others’ own ability to overcome their momentary difficulty and even failed to appreciate others’ expression of themselves. I was motivated by an urge to intervene. I didn’t understand that others didn’t need my meddling unless they asked me for it. They had every reason to express themselves
to the fullest even if I didn’t like it.
I couldn’t truly understand what “to each their own” meant. Compounded by a lack of self-awareness, I traversed decades of my life in self-defeat and mired in trouble with people to the point of complete mental breakdowns that required hospitalizations and medications.
Everything came to a head when a mutual friend of mine and my roommate’s tried to sneak an unknown substance into my drink stored in our refrigerator when she came to our apartment and thought I wasn’t home. I saw what she did through the thin crack of my bedroom door. What could have happened had I drunk the adulterated drink? The impending danger set my mind into a tailspin. What would she do next? I thought of fleeing to Alaska.
All of a sudden, the reason she did this to me became crystal clear. I replayed in my head the few exchanges I had with her before the day of the incident. I remembered how I stayed quiet when she showed me her daughter’s college graduation photos. I had an odd idea that her daughter might not have graduated and
that the photos had been easily staged as she was alone in her graduation outfit. Did she sense my disapproval? Could my silence have triggered something in her?
Although nothing further happened afterwards, I was plagued by the sudden fear that something was seriously wrong with me; I might not live to see another day if I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with me. I questioned every impulse I had to say or do anything. I realized I didn’t really understand what I had been saying or doing my entire life.
The truth gradually revealed itself. It took me a lifetime to understand what “to each their own” means. Although not a moment too soon, I’ve finally crawled my way out of the wreckage of my past and begun to embrace the beauty of this simple truth. By cultivating a healthy sense of self, I may be able to improve myself, respect and appreciate others, who live their own lives by their own efforts and in their own way. It takes all kinds to make the world.
Anonymous is a writer in The Stewpot’s Writers’ Workshop.
By James Varas
Patience is something I learned from my stepdad. He was a very patient man. He would watch over my mother when she was ill, and I was healing from military school. Every day he would listen as she would talk, and I loved that about him.
He had such a strong character about him. He could see my mother in pain and would not run away like me. I was younger and when my mother was in pain it made me very sad and angry that I could not bring her out of pain. I would run away and do drugs to numb me from reality.
My stepdad was a lobbyist. He had such a peaceful facade about him. I began approaching him about concerns in life. He was so easy to talk to. He would sit and listen calmly as I could tell him just about anything.
I miss him. He is in heaven with my mother. He went first with cancer and my mother followed many years later with Covid.
I will never forget a dream I had after mourning my stepdad for over a year.
My Core Values
By Deborah Thomas
Core values help us define our boundaries and understand how to prioritize what truly matters to us. They are the compass that helps guide our decision-making. While value can stay somewhat consistent over the course of a lifetime, they might become more specific as we develop into our true self.
I would like to believe my mother and all nine of her brothers and sisters were the start of my core belief system. Then I belonged to the church youth group for the years while I was attending a good neighborhood grammar school. When I entered junior high, my social group changed. I wanted to hang with the cool kids, so I changed some of my beliefs to fit in. Then as I made it to high school, getting involved with sports, volleyball and softball, I learned new values.
Becoming an adult, I would pretend around my mother that my core values never changed, but I was ignoring them. I got hooked on drugs (meth, crack, weed).
I was in the backseat of a car with my grandmother. She was young or, let me say, younger.
My stepdad was driving, and my mother was in the passenger’s seat. I looked out the window and saw the most beautiful mountains and the most beautiful field I had ever seen. I remember the sun was rising and the water glistened like diamonds. I was so excited, and I was like a child in the backseat going on an awesome journey to an unexpected, unknown destination.
I said, “Dad, Dad! Can we go fishing here?” And he turned around, and I saw his face and he said, “Son, you can go fishing anywhere you want here!”
As he turned back around, I woke up. Tears poured down my face. I finally realized my dad was in heaven. From that day forward, I knew he was in a better place. I could finally let go of him. I had seen a glimpse of heaven. The colors of the mountains and the fields were unbelievable. Colors I had never seen. So vivid, so real…so amazing. I will never forget that dream. What a wonderful gift from God to see such a beautiful place.
Whenever people die, especially loved
I was living a life beneath my standards, and I knew it. When I no longer could look myself in the mirror, I chose to get on a road called recovery.
In recovery the first step is abstinence from all drugs. Then I began more steps to self-development. I don’t have everything perfect, but I’m learning my sobriety. Being homeless, I rely on The Bridge shelter, my small social circle, the meetings I attend, and my higher power to guide my conscience to be the best me I can make possible. I’m grateful for the core values I have and am still developing day by day and night by night. I made a personal commitment to myself, my family, and higher power to give my very best effort, thought, and behavior to recovery so I can become the best version of myself in the universe and leave a legacy worth living up to for my children’s children.
Core values are the very important default settings for every person in the world. The ways I grew up with were just the beginning to learn and define my character. I was taught to be confident,
ones that someone might be mourning, I tell their survivors what a wonderful time their loved ones are having in heaven.
I took on the role of my stepdad. I took care of my mother for 17 years after he went to heaven. I still see my dad smiling, smoking his cigarette and sitting at his writing desk. He is sitting in the den with all his books, and I see the lamp on his desk. It is lighting up his face as he smiles, and I am there talking with him.
He will always be a part of me along with all the other people who have taken time to take care of me. Now it is my natural dad’s time to teach me all he knows. I have started a new chapter in my life.
Patience is a fruit of the spirit, and it was one of many that I have learned. “But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law” (Galatians 5:22-23).
James Varas is a STREETZine vendor and a writer in The Stewpot Writers’ Workshop.
believe in my abilities, and that I have self-worth and matter to the people I choose to be connected to. Life has not been easy. I have experienced things like homelessness, poverty, domestic violence, mental illness, and substance abuse. I use the pillars of AA and NA to help guide my thought process. Being open-minded, honest, and willing got me to self-develop the right way. I’m grateful to the many people who helped me become one with mind, body, and spirit. I’m committed to not let myself and others down like in the past.
I believe my core values make me my authentic self and give me my sense of purpose. They help me work toward my own dreams and become the best me possible.
Deborah Thomas is a writer in The Stewpot’s Writers’ Workshop.
By Michael McCall
One of the most important parts of childhood development is when we are taught core values. These core values are taught through our parents, cultural backgrounds, and the communities we grow up in. These values mold you into the individual you become and help you find your place in society.
I acquired most of my values from the strong women who raised me. The most important value of all is to treat people how you wish to be treated. This belief is often referred to as the “Golden Rule” and throughout the years I see why it is so important.
I have tried to live by this rule the best I can because you never know what turns life may take. Treating people how you wish to be treated sounds easy, but some may feel like the rule does not apply to them.
By Vicki Gies
What is most important to me? Well, actually there are several things: First of all, God is very important to me. In my old drug days, I cared more about getting my next high. I did drugs for over 35 years, off and on, and I didn’t want to face not having anything that I really needed, just what I wanted.
I finally came to my senses and realized that I was sick and tired of being sick and tired! I went to several different rehabs, one of which was court-ordered and was six months long. The other rehabs were voluntary. I had decided that I did want to be well and happy again.
So, I made a promise to myself, to my husband, who is the only family I have left, to my pastor, and, most of all, to God! I never really made promises to anyone because I didn’t want to break them. But the last time I surrendered to everyone mentioned above, it was different. This was to be my lasting journey on the road to recovery. And I stuck with it!
Now I have recovered from drug addiction. I volunteer at my church, which now I go to every Sunday. I also read my daily Bible verses every morning and night.
While I never looked down on homeless people, I was guilty of feeling like we had nothing in common. I did not treat them differently; I just chose not to interact with them if possible.
However, this all changed when I found myself on the streets and sleeping next to the individuals I used to ignore. It made me reflect on my actions and see that I had abandoned one of my most important core values.
I was not mistreating the homeless population, but I was not treating them how I wanted to be treated. Experiencing that feeling of being ignored by others when I became homeless helped me realize how wrong I was.
Treating people how you wish to be treated involves more than just actions, it also refers to inaction. It is hard to stay positive and do what it takes to become a part of the community again if all you perceive is a “not welcome” feeling everywhere you go.
And, I say a small prayer before I go to bed and when I wake in the morning: “Thank you for my life and for watching over me and mine.”
In the meantime, I’m catching up on the things I used to enjoy before drugs: going to the lake, getting new clothes and shoes, and going to special events and concerts. One of my favorite events to attend is the State Fair. This year it begins on September 27th.
I love going to the fair every year. I especially love all the aromas of all the fair food, not just Fletcher’s corny dogs, but also Jack’s Frys, frozen lemonade, Belgian waffles, and loaded funnel cakes.
I also love seeing the exhibits in the buildings. I’m a kid at heart, even though I’m 72 years old! And don’t forget the giant Texas Star, which is such a relaxing ride and a spectacular view. However, the petting zoo will always be my favorite. I love all animals, wild or tame, any species!
One very memorable moment from the petting zoo happened a few years ago. There was a young couple who had stopped at the ostrich pen, and the woman had a small digital camera. She was taking pictures of all the animals. When she raised the camera up to take a close-
With this new insight, I have strengthened my most valuable core belief and I am thankful for the time I spent on the streets because it made me a better person. It helped shine some light on how I was treating people differently by ignoring their attempts to be seen and treated like a human being.
The belief that you should treat others like you want to be treated should not require a person to have a permanent address. This was a driving factor in me going back to school to become a substance abuse counselor so I can help others who might be seen and treated as less than.
Having the life experience of being an addict can help me stay true to the “Golden Rule” and relate to my clients as human who, like me, have struggled throughout their life.
Michael McCall is a writer in The Stewpot’s Writers’ Workshop.
up picture of the ostrich’s head and neck, I knew what was about to happen. Without hesitation, the ostrich leaned over the top of the pen, snatched the camera, and down it went into that long neck!
Her husband went to find the zookeeper and report the incident. Evidently, they did not see the sign at the end of the pen: “Keep fingers, hands, and purses away from the front of the pen.” The zookeeper then said that they would have to come back in three of four days and let nature take its course. I’m not sure if they ever got their camera back!
I dedicate this story to my dad, from whom I got my sense of humor. He almost always had a smile on his face and had a very calm demeanor. He was a man of many talents.
Vicki Gies is a writer in The Stewpot Writers’ Workshop and a STREETZine vendor.
By Cici Guerre
I discovered a while back that I had something called integrity and, to my great joy, I have been able to build upon it. At the same time, integrity has been able to build upon me. I first realized my integrity in simple ways. If I say that I am going to do something, I intend to follow through, and I will make an effort to keep my word. Also, I find dishonesty of any kind very distasteful. It just makes sense to me to always tell the truth, even when telling the truth is uncomfortable.
At first, I simply basked in my newfound sense of self as a person with integrity, but then I noticed that I was beginning to change and come more into alignment with this value. When I became homeless, I reserved the right to steal in case of dire necessity. I have not had to exercise that right, even though I have often had to go without things that I greatly desired. And even though I may think about simply taking those things, I always feel better
By Bishop
when I don’t. If it isn’t mine, I don’t want it. And it doesn’t matter if it seems that everyone else I meet steals whatever they want. I refuse to do something that I don’t want to do, and I think stealing is wrong.
The deeper change came as I realized that the most important person I needed to tell the truth to was myself. I must be truthful with myself if I am to grow. I have to be able to admit to myself that I am not perfect. Only then can I work on being a better person. I have to be able to admit to myself that I am not the center of the universe so that I can learn to hear the voice of God. The funny thing is that, if I were to lie, odds are I am the only one who would believe that lie.
So, there are many values that we could name, but for me, it all starts with this: I am a person of integrity.
Cici Guerre is a writer in The Stewpot’s Writers’ Workshop.
Imagine finding a wallet in the middle of an empty parking lot. You suddenly notice a picture identification in the wallet and the subject in the photo looks familiar. It was the person who just spoke to you as they entered the store. What would you do?
Of course, the right thing to do is return the wallet. That is exactly what we would want someone to do for us. For most people, doing the right thing is easier when people are looking. It feels good being a hero in front of your peers. However, when no one is looking, it takes integrity to make the right decision.
It would also be easier to give the wallet back if you had tons of money in your bank account. How easy would it be to practice integrity if you were in debt and needed money? Would you still give the wallet back?
One of my foundational core values is to live a life of integrity. I work every day to better myself so that I would be the kind of person that would return the wallet no matter the circumstances. I truly believe giving the wallet back would have a better outcome in the long run. Practicing integrity is not about feelings, it is about principles. So regardless of my situation or how I feel, I want to have the level of integrity to always do the right thing.
Bishop is a writer in The Stewpot’s Writers’ Workshop.
By Darin Thomas
My core values usually guide my actions and decisions, although now prison guards guide them. I have to listen to these officers and watch myself in here. My actions and decisions will keep me alive. I have to stay focused down here in prison.
I also need to find something to do: a trade or a job that will keep me on my Ps and Qs. Finding a job will mean moving around and staying out of trouble, which I have been staying out of. My actions will speak louder than words as I serve my three-year sentence.
We recently had two killings in my unit in one month. The unit went on lockdown, which meant we couldn’t do anything. We stayed in our cells 24/7. That is hard. Being locked up 24 hours a day is no way to live.
I know I have made bad decisions in the past and have done wrong things. But I am trying to get my life back on track, letting my core values guide me. I am almost 52 years old and sick of being in prison. I hate that I am here again and want to make this my last time.
I pray to God that it is my last time when I come up for parole. I want to live by my core values.
Darin Thomas, a writer in The Stewpot Writers’ Workshop, is incarcerated in the Texas Department of Criminal Justice.
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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.
