To dither, to dally, to debate

What I don't know may not kill me but it may profoundly impact the path I take.  How to know what one doesn't know?  If there is a supreme being, he/she must have a well developed sense of humor, watching humans make decisions that have far reaching impact, yet with little of the information needed to make it intelligently.  I only want a little glimpse forward, is that too much to ask?

I'm almost glad to have bar prep coming soon, as an excuse to set aside the world for a time, a valid answer to any question.

sitting on the sidelines

I attended a conference on homelessness and the law this past Friday.  The focus of the conference was on criminalization of the homeless, and on homeless veterans, and I also attended a breakout session at lunch regarding homeless youth and families.  What follows is my response, inaccurate and incomplete as it is.

I was already familiar with a few organizations that worked specifically on ensuring education and other services to homeless youth-some with families and some unaccompanied.  And I knew of the McKinney Vento Act, which mandates things like enrolling a child even if they don't have prior school records, allowing homeless kids to continue to attend their school of origin where possible, etc.  There are multiple nation-wide organizations dedicated to serving homeless youth. 

But it had not occurred to me to ask the most obvious question.  What do we owe these children?  Is it so acceptable to see such vulnerable members of our society scrapping for food, a place to sleep, safety, and belonging, that we see their existence as de facto?

I realize that there have always been, and always will be, runaways.  There are homeless families too, at least during times of war and upheaval, the Great Depression, or times of tremendous urban migration.  This is not a new phenomenon.  Like generations before us, we struggle with the moral and practical considerations of the problem.  There is not an easy answer.

The question is larger than children, of course. Aside from the moral question, the pragmatic issue of how street people with no other place to sleep or defecate affect CBD's and merchants demands response.  Criminalization of the homeless via sit/lie laws does not rid us of them.  They have no place to go.  

I understand the disinclination to give a handout to someone able to provide for themselves.  Our sense of justice is offended by such demands.  But if the concern is with the impact with our collective purse strings, then we are fooling ourselves.  It costs more in police and public services staff, emergency medical services and related costs to deal with people living on the streets than it would to provide some level of housing and related services.

I'm told that common causes of homelessness include mental illness, drug and alcohol addiction, job loss, and abusive home situations.  The response required depends in part on the underlying issue.

For one who has lost a job, it often starts a downward spiral that the individual involved cannot reverse without assistance.  If you don't have the funds for a home, or even a hotel room, it's hard to keep a cell phone.  Without a cell phone, it is very hard to arrange interviews.  With no alarm clock, it's hard to be on time for interviews, for work, to catch the bus.  And once homeless, and having self designated as such, it is a wound on the psyche not easily healed. The very label of homeless translates into ‘formerly homeless’ and is perceived by society as some character flaw or weakness that is at risk of resurfacing again in the future.  It forecloses opportunities once applied. Confidence is important in job searches, both in the ability to launch one, and in the strength to withstand the inevitable rejections that come with most job searches.

For one with mental illness, addiction, or both, something more is needed than a secure room and a phone.  Ongoing services are more essential to this population.  For some, the only answer is permanent supportive housing, preferably with mental and social services delivered on site.  Many of this group are especially vulnerable due to unaddressed health issues.

Sit/lie laws, anti-camping statutes and policies that direct police and public works departments to effect sweeps of parks, downtown areas, heavily touristed areas-these criminalize behavior that human beings must engage in.  Sleeping, eating, defecating, sitting- what these have in common is that all of us do them. We must do them to survive.

Once arrested, the street person is engaged with the criminal justice system and a cycle initiated that is difficult to break.  Citations mount because of course they can’t pay them, and eventually warrants issue.  It is not uncommon for a homeless person to fail to appear at court hearings, adding one more straw to the camel’s back.  Outstanding warrants contribute to unemployability. Being picked up for a warrant usually means time spent in jail due to inability to post bail, an average of 15 days.  This results in loss of any job a person has managed to get.  Usually by the time someone becomes homeless, they have already tapped out all the personal favors available to them, so who are they to call when they need bail money?

Shelters are perhaps a necessary component of emergent response, but they are not a solution.  Families are separated in shelters, the children of addicts are prohibited entry because of their parents' issues, and unaccompanied youth are particularly vulnerable.  Lack of funding and lack of oversight mean that some shelters lack beds, secure space to store belongings, toilet paper for the bathroom, lack of warm water and soap, safe drinking water, and of course no place for a child to do their homework.

Rapid rehousing may work for those down on their luck, between jobs.  For those who have been sucked into the vortex of life on the streets for some period of time, it may be that something in between is needed.

Funding for such an array of responses is hard to come by.  It is easier to get funding for police, jails and emergency services, whether via a government program or by local support of a local initiative.  But let us not kid ourselves.  In not funding housing, we have simply shifted the cost to our police, our jails, our emergency rooms.  It will not go away on its own.

Often people think that if they provide services, it will attract more street people from other places.  Livermore just passed an anti-camping ordinance in response to a perceived threat from homeless people moving there from Oakland.  The facts do not support this.  Most of our homeless are people who were formerly housed in the community in which they now wander the streets. 

To a large degree, the path to homelessness begins at poverty.  From loss of home, to engagement with the criminal justice system, a record, and foreclosed choices for their future.  Are we not de facto punishing the homeless for being too poor to have a home?

I confess to feeling a bit skeptical about the earnestness of those attending the conference.  Whether it's aid to third world countries, saving the trees or protecting the Great Barrier Reef, it seems never to fail that an attitude of one-ups-manship in do-gooding surfaces after a time, and it's hard to tell if they really want to solve a problem out of which the participants gain so much personal self worth.  But disdain and criticism are cheap substitutes for stepping up and doing something about a very real issue.  It's easy to critique and so much harder to step up on the stage of public action myself.

It is said that the poor will always be with us.  The question for us is what our response will be, individually and collectively. 

fording the river in the company of a friend

Transitions can be tricky, I think.  Absent mindful attention, opportunities are lost, like belongings swept overboard from a swamped canoe.  It's hard not to fret at each day that slips away, and yet at times I manage to find a place of ease in my mind.  By the time I hit my stride in this month of no job and not yet studying for the Bar full-time, it will be over.

It's easy to think of myself differently now that I'm no longer a student.  But I'd like to sustain that inquiry a while longer-for the rest of my life if I can manage it.  No license to cease.

Talking with Abigail while she is in Tanzania is an exercise in patience, as the phone line drops periodically, sometimes in mid-thought.  But we manage anyway to talk about things-everyday things and important things.  It's very nice to have a person in one's life who will not just say nice things.  Well, she does say nice things too, but when the truth is something else, she finds a way to poke me gently with it.  The value of that honesty is only increased by the realization that it's not easily done, and this transmutes into a sense of gratitude for having a friend who cares enough to bother.

This does not solve the problem of making this crossing well, but it is infinitely comforting and validating to have another acknowledge the existence and difficulty of the task.

gravel in my shoes but I'm dancing anyway

Well, here it is.  The other end of what started at about the time this blog began.  I have my last final exam this evening, and then a champagne reception with the Dean as we 4th Years wrap up our law school experience.

I feel like I've accomplished a very big thing, yet it's been done so many times before, by people who faced greater challenges.  Nothing new under the sun, but it's new to me. Delightful and a little dizzying.  While I can't experience the pure joy of a child at this treasure, I can hold it in my hands a while, and feel its heft in my palm.

I look behind me and see that this experience has in fact changed me.  I am emerging more confident, a better student, more open and- sadly, older.  Time slips rapidly away.

I have gained some precious memories, more precious friends.  Last week as I paced the halls before our Bus Orgs exam, I went past the spot where I waited for my first class on a Tuesday night-Criminal Law.  The door was still locked, so a few of us gathered in the hall, unfamiliar with the life of law school, unfamiliar with each other.  I met Abigail and Chris in that hall.  I remember a few weeks into Torts, realizing by something said that there was a fellow gardener in the group, and so I sought out Jean after class.  We made crackers together that first semester break.

There comes the memory of how Chris would indiscriminately leave change at Peter's place as he left the classroom for breaks, how Chris would make faces at me when something was happening in class.  Abigail came to class that winter with a blanket, thick slipper/socks and gloves.  She was my seat mate all year, and my friend ever since.  Saturday morning runs, farmers market, and discussions ranging from law to life and back again.

And did we ever argue over that thermostat!  Groups morphed, shrank and changed, as friendships were strained and new alliances formed.  Remarkably, no lasting damage done.

I learned of the existence of secondary material from Andrew, who freely shared whatever he had, I fought with Peter in study group, laughed in Torts class, we fought our way through Contracts, and nearly cried in Crim Law.  And slowly we inched forward, losing some along the way-losing a lot along the way.  We knew the statistics, of course, but that is so much less personal than seeing someone you know and believe in leave, whether due to grades or some pressing life event.

I have a much better idea of who I am, what I will and won't do, and I am more cynical than I was four years ago.

These past weeks I have shared days on end with four other women, some of whom have young children, jobs, spouses and all the things that life tends to bring.  We studied under the umbrellas in the back yard, wrote elements on the white boards at school, quizzed each other on injunctions while eating dinner at Mary's downtown.  I'm pretty sure there will be some drinking in this group tonight.  What each person has accomplished has been their own, and yet none of us has travelled the path entirely alone.

I am grateful, so very grateful to have had these past four years.  Let me not forget to inquire, to question, to pause a while in the discomfort and wait.

the music inside my head

Looking back at my posts, I see that I tend to have themes-a nice way to say that I get in a rut sometimes.  Forgive me if you can, as I'm about to continue that practice.

My job is ending on Friday, I'm taking my last law school exams this week and next, and it feels a bit like I'm being reborn.  Like any newborn, I don't know what to expect of this new world.  It's a small dance inside my head-my Bus Orgs exam starts in less than two hours, and my last day at work is four days away.  Who am I now?

I find myself gradually moving away from shock and fright to delight and peace.  I'm not fatalistic, and I don't believe that everything will always work out for the best, but I don't think I can ward off anything by worrying about it either.  The chance to sit in the hammock with a book, walk aimlessly and dance to the tune inside my head for a while-I do not care to waste it by fretting about how I'll pay my bills come August, and whether I'll be able to find challenging, meaningful work.

Tomorrow is tomorrow.  Of course, that's today's approach.

all things, good and bad

Today was a train wreck, and I know why.  My last law school class tonight and apparently I'm more sentimental than even I knew.  Feeling melancholy and a sense of loss instead of relief or excitement.

I know endings are beginnings too, and that this might not stay so wonderful if it continued indefinitely.  All those realities aren't really making a dent in this cloud of sadness swirling about my head.  For tomorrow are the practical realities.  Today is a day to take note, to reflect and to mourn.

we zig and we zag

These final days race by and yet drag simultaneously.  There is not enough time to memorize, practice and assimilate.  Yet as always during exams, I am anxious to have them done. No matter how on top of things you might be in a given semester, exam time is anxiety inducing to the point of absurdity.  I didn't know one could sustain such focus before law school-I'm certain I never did it in my undergraduate days.  I'm not sure if this is character-building or life-shortening stress!

I'm sitting in the classroom on this fine Sunday morning-the sun is shining, it is supposed to get up to 72 degrees today and I will be inside.  But only for a little longer, and I hold onto that thought.  I have to say that it helps a great deal to know that later other students will join me here, and we will slog through yet more Bus Orgs together.  On my own I am not sure I would have such tenacity.  Sometimes things get silly, and the conversation turns to other things, but we move the ball forward pretty consistently.

Countdown:  8 days to the first exam and 16 days to the last one.