When I was younger, I was certain that I was going to be a journalist. I'm not sure if it was my desire to stir the pot, or my desire to tell the untold stories- I wanted to expose it all. While their is virtue in digging to find the story, to share someone's experience, it was never enough. I didn't want to stop there. Deep down, I realized that what I wanted was to help people- to reach out my hand for theirs and walk alongside them. I wanted to be a friend, a mentor, a sounding board. Working on the 2008 campaign where we targeted vulnerable populations not only for voter registration, but for employment, I again found joy in learning the value of an individual's story. Working with at-risk youth at an after-school program, I learned the value of a family's story- of the relationships among brothers and sisters, aunts and nieces and nephews, foster parents and family friends.

Serving with AmeriCorps, I have learned the value of a community's story- one made up of vignettes about a single person struggling to find employment, about a family with children who lost their housing voucher, about a married couple cycling through episodes of homelessness. The story that the community often tells, however, is not complete. It is billed as folklore about "the homeless."

Since I began as an AmeriCorps member, one things has always hit my ear with a certain amount of dissonance. The vibration never sounded right- it always had a ring of judgment to it. "The Homeless." I've spent a good part of my personal life re-evaluated the use of labels- positive, negative and neutral- as a destructive practice. When I say a person is homeless... I'm defining them by their housing status. They are no longer a person who is experiencing homelessness... they ARE homeless. I find this odd. I don't define myself by my housing status. People don't pass me on the street and whisper to their friends, "hey, look at that person over there- she must be housed. Let's not feel obligated to give her anything, or feel the need to cross the street to avoid her." I am not defined by my housing status- so why are others?

To me, the people that we all serve are in need of housing. They are not defined by homelessness- they are simply experiencing it. I am not saying this to diminish the severity of the experience, or the need. I'm saying this to diminish the harshness of judgment placed upon someone in that situation. Everyone who walks through my office is a person first- and that's how I feel each and every one should be treated and referenced.

Much good has come of my tenure here at My Brother’s Keeper. The few colleagues that I have are delightful, and working alongside them has helped mitigate the stress of volunteering at a homeless shelter in such a city as Flint. It also helps, of course, that we’re all from here, which is the source of our unfeigned rapport.

I can honestly say that nothing particularly staggering, within the organization itself, has (as of yet) transpired—or rather, I should say, nothing that outright defied my expectations has yet happened. In fact, nothing uncomfortably surprising has happened during any of my involvement in any of the areas of the organization where one might think such things would happen: not working with the parolees of the transitional house, not with the clients of the emergency shelter, and especially not the regular volunteer quasi-staff of the lunch program (i.e. soup kitchen). The aforementioned have all been the consolation of my experience, especially a few of the residents of the transitional house. I’ve been placed in a privileged position to learn about issues with which I had been only vaguely acquainted, and would have remained so if it weren’t for my enlistment in the Americorps. And for that, I am immensely grateful.

However, the bane of my experience mostly derives from some of my involvement with some of the volunteers themselves. [Let me emphasize—some!]. I was agitated, e.g., by the gentleman who thundered his colossal diesel truck into our parking lot one Saturday—agitated, not by the truck itself, nor even by the obnoxiously emphatic bumper sticker on the rear window stating, peremptorily, “Extremely right-wing.” Rather, what agitated me were his statements, as he walked in the side entrance, carrying a cardboard bookshelf, about the city in which our shelter is located, namely, Flint. He said—roughly quoting here—“I can’t believe what these people have done with this place after so much has been given to them,” as he desperately sought an affirmation from his discernibly blushing companion. By “this place” (let’s not inquire into what he meant by “these people”) he meant not the shelter itself—though perhaps he was withholding his judgments in that regard—but the city. He then proceeded to set a stack of gun and rifle magazines on the shelf of the room his church had adopted. I promptly removed them. [Explanatory side note: with the assistance of the DMVA, we’ve been slowly and painstakingly developing a program for homeless veterans, schedule to commence imminently. This program involves an adopt-a-room option, much like the State’s “adopt-a-highway” program but with people and rooms,  where groups or individuals can…well…adopt a room and the person(s) residing therein.]

Well clearly, this gentleman failed to comprehend how little has in fact been done, and how little is being done, for the city of Flint. Alas, Flint is not Detroit, and helping Flint is not quite as glamorous as helping Detroit. We don’t, after all, get the benevolent hipster population Detroit gets; and let’s just say gentrification hasn’t become a problem yet, and probably won’t ever even be one. Either way, his statements (not all of which are being quoted) were inaccurate and, of course, personally offensive. It displayed certain of his assumptions quite perspicuously, which might have also been manifest in other of the aforementioned facts. 

Now, we here at MBK do not discriminate according to political or, even, social views—who knows what mine even are! Nor did we in this case. The volunteers must be treated with the same dignity, compassion and respect that we demand, uncompromisingly, be extended to the homeless population of our city and county. Though such treatment of volunteers most often comes with ease, occasionally one must summon the nobler parts of one’s soul in order to maintain such treatment towards certain others. But I’ve learned that such equitable and unconditional treatment of people requires a certain blindness to the particular defects of the individuals involved. This has assured me that others must have in the past exhibited such blindness toward my own particular defects. Nevertheless, I’ve learned, through the dismay of a few unfortunate encounters, that in this business one can be neither self-righteous, i.e. one cannot regard their own character or personality as without defect, nor intolerant, i.e. one cannot even regard—or rather, entertain, whether privately or publicly (blogs excluded!)—the defects of others. But as Nietzsche once wrote (since we’re quoting him already), “Many a peacock hides its feathers—and calls that its pride” [BGE 4.73a] So I must remain particularly wary that I’m not intolerant in my tolerance, that is, that I don’t act intolerantly toward some in the name of my “tolerance” for others. 

SOS Presents Global Youth Service Day

Hello Everyone! My name is Corey Saylor. I am the LeaderCorps Representative for the Michigan AmeriCorps Campaign to End Homelessness. This is my second year serving in AmeriCorps.My service year thus far has been awesome! I feel very fortunate to serve with this campaign and it's members. I am also very fortunate for the opportunity to network with so many other great AmeriCorps programs and members through my LeaderCorps service.  

Currently, I serve at the South Oakland Shelter (SOS), which houses 30 men, women, and children year round. I like to call SOS the AmeriCorps powerhouse because currently we have 3 State members and 3 VISTA members serving this year. When Global Youth Service Day rolled around this year our little AmeriCorps powerhouse came together and organized the event. 

This was SOS' first year hosting Global Youth Service Day. This event took place over a two day span. It was created, planned and implemented by myself, Katie, Chaun- Xing, and our 3 VISTA members, Michaele, Erin, and Ashley. We also partnered with Gleaner’s National LeaderCorps member, James for the events planning and implementation. In organizing this event we reached out to the community to bring awareness to homelessness, include those with disabilities in service learning, and to involve youth ages 5-25 to participate in service learning.

On April 20, 2012, two local schools came together, in partnership with SOS’ Global Youth Service Day, and hosted their very first overnight “Box City”, as a way to raise awareness for homelessness. Over 30 students, grades fifth through twelfth, participated in the “Box City”.  Those students whom participated, collected card board boxes and arranged them in a city type fashion in a local middle school’s gymnasium. They then slept in their created city that night to try to understand and experience what a homeless individual may experience living on the streets. Students, parents, school staff, and community members brought hygiene donations to the gymnasium throughout the night. These items were all donated to SOS to benefit the clients the shelter serves. I presented to these students about homelessness and how they can help the homeless population. The students were very responsive to the presentation and shocked that so many people in their community are affected by homelessness.

On April 21, 2012, SOS’ AmeriCorps team welcomed Tamika, 50 volunteers ranging in age from 5 – 65 years old (some with disabilities), 2 media outlets, and the Southfield City Mayor. After the welcome introductions, volunteers split into project groups. Each group was led by an AmeriCorps member and was assigned tasks to accomplish for the day. In an 8 hour service day the Global Youth Service Day volunteers remodeled SOS’ playroom, health room, and educational room. They also installed a bike rack, repainted the parking lot lines, planted a flower garden, and assembled 100 health kits to be distributed to SOS clients. The items for the health kits were collected and fully donated by Oakland University’s Nursing Program students and St. Joseph’s hospital.

What these volunteers accomplished the third weekend of April is truly amazing. Yes, the physical changes made to the SOS building turned out to be remarkable; however, it is the changes that you cannot see that made all the difference. Volunteers of all ages, backgrounds, races, and capabilities came together that weekend to make a difference. In doing so they learned about how to better serve their community, how to work together, and how to be the change. At the end of each day I was approached by several volunteers asking how they could do more and eager to know when the next volunteer event was.