Walking into the ARCH, Austins Resource Center for the Homeless, is like when Olivia DeHavalin of the 1950 insane asylum movie ?SNAKEPIT?, meets Jon Voight, of Midnight Cowboy. If you are a Gay man, depressed and homeless, it?s just one more bad ?B? movie!
First you notice the Resource Desk, that looks like organized chaos in freeze frame: an elderly woman is urinating on the floor a tall, heavy set black man is demanding to know why he wasn?t woken up this morning a young mother with two kids in tow and a younger baby in arms is finding out that she can?t stay that night as the ARCH has a men only policy (however she can stay at the Sally-the Salvation Army), and then there?s me, out of work, severely depressed, just witnessed an effeminate drug dealer mugged in the alley, and having the worse day in my life as I tried to commit suicide two weeks before and couldn?t find an 18 wheeler to hit me, as they were all driving too careful that rainy Friday on IH-35.
Then, an angel appeared by the name of Roxanne Dudley, who is one of the saviours of the City of Austin Homeless Clinic at the ARCH. She quickly showed me around the shelter, giving me a thumbnail whirlwind tour that involved being whisked through 3 floors of blurring people? all needy? all homeless.
I finally found my way to the alley behind the ARCH, where you wait several hours till a lottery determines whether you get a sleeping mat for the night. When you are depressed, everything looks and feels huge. Especially the tall and very large drag queen, who happened to drop her lipstick at my knapsack, impatiently tapping her size 12 pointed high heels, waiting for me to hand it to her. I nervously got up, handed the lipstick to its owner, turned around to get the hell out of the alley, and ran face first into a blind black man, who said, ?Whoa down flame man! Where are you off to?? It didn?t even hit me at first the guy was black, blind and calling me a flamer I just wanted to climb into the nearest trash can and die.
Carefully, he explained how to navigate the alley, which he said was ?dangerous? but somewhat livable by the hours. The next angel on drawing a lucky number for the night was an older gentleman on a cane, who despite his disability, walked me up the stairs, showing me the showers & toilets, which mats were the best and who to stay away from?not that I was in any mood to be sociable. Night after night, I went through the motions of the lottery, hoping that nobody would notice me, and just when I thought I?d achieved anonymity, as I was walking through the security screen, when a loud voice screamed, ?we don?t let faggots in here?. Ignoring the comment, shaking it off, I went up to my mat. THEN, I got angry?the angriest I?d been in a long time. With some displacement, I realized that there was two staff members within 3 feet who said nothing about the comment. Maybe it was the antidepressants, my fill of seeing so much human pain & suffering?and also, maybe I just sick of feeling sorry for myself. I was not the only gay person who has ever been homeless, depressed, suicidal and open about it. Why there were the closet cases, the male hustlers, the female personators: the ones on crack and the ones who were the ?real women?. Then, there were the ones who admitted to me to being bisexual and scared out of their wits as their wifes/girlfriends found out and kicked them out, the sick and chest caven AIDSGuy that I let cry with me, saying he lost his pain meds..which eventually became he sold his pain meds for cigarettes the worse of them were the ones who openly were hostile to ?those queers? but talked in their sleep at night about guys they had slept with. YES, I finally became angry!
I filled out a grievance form to the Shelter Director, and after a few days and a few conversations with me, agreed to staff training on GAY HOMELESS CLIENTS. Here was the conflict that my inner queer was having: While I didn?t want to be thought of as a ?crybaby?, I did want to get it across that gay persons have all that goes with homelessness: The job losses, the alcohol & drug problems, the relationship issues, and also a community, for the most part ignored and didn't care.
The most common reaction from many in the gay establishments ranged from it's their own fault to unbelief. Of course, at one time this was probably my first reaction too.
Did being open at a homeless shelter help or hinder me? Well, it's hard to say. Speaking as myself in one of the groups, STREETS OF HOPE, was hard at first, and then, when I looked up, everyone was nodding their heads to starring anywhere but me. Some counselors and monitors, took it in stride while others shook their heads in disbelief, fearing for my safety.
Safety is a BIG issue. There are some days when several fights break out. There are days where I am too busy or distracted to notice about safety. Then, there are days that the outside patio has blood on it tables and chairs are thrown about loud boisterous voices issue threats of territorial issues, such as important things as who's in line for food, or a chair/table, or who gets to talk during a group meeting.
Does anyone get help while staying in an Austin Homeless Shelter? I can say that sometimes…it falls in place. The ones with emotional & mental issues get counselors, the ones with legal fights get an advocate, the ones who are sick with diseases get medicine…and sometimes, just sometimes a few of us get what we have really worked hard for: RESPECT & A HOME.
The author is presently lives in a homeless shelter. He was a former monk, a VISTA Volunteer, and has worked with the HIV+ community in Austin & San Angelo, Texas communities. He specializes in articles written about those who are dispossessed or have no voice to tell their stories. There are millions of stories waiting to be told by those who cannot tell them. I'm just one of the few that is blessed to tell them.
His hobbies are reading Tarot Cards (Hermetic Deck) and reading and practicing Gnostic Christianity. He resides in Austin, Tx.