The outreach kept going for the past three days. Presently, I am in a quaint, East Lansing cafe drinking coffee with an old friend. Here we go-
Affirmation:
Street Outreach– What an intense and wonderful trip! Maggie the van was loaded with hygiene kits, clean clothes, socks, jackets, and most importantly- lots of food. We started out in a neighborhood that was absolutely dilapidated. It looked like projects, rows of government housing. More of the buildings were condemned than livable. A lot of plywood windows. I heard that everyone is being evicted by the end of the month. No one knew who we were, so we had to approach people as they began lingering and watching.
“Are you hungry? Do you need clothes? I have some really useful hygiene kits!”
Most people did. One gentleman was confused and took the entire tote of mens clothing back into his house. Traci and I looked around and noticed it missing. He must have been fast! We didn’t even see him! But when we asked him about it, he looked embarrassed and brought it right back. I told him that the clothes were for a lot of people, but he was more than welcome to take what he needed. Just DO NOT take my totes. We are in desperate need of more totes. That’s why I have to put a hold on clothing donations. It’s not that I don’t want them. I don’t have any place to put them.
We took advantage of the daylight and wandered outside our usual zones to find anyone who may need us. One woman we stopped to help told us that she could use our things, at first. But before we could hand her anything, she told us that she didn’t know us. She would rather not. That’s fair.
We started travelling towards more familiar territory. People who recognized us started pouring out of the shadows. I heard my name screamed from across the street more than once. The ladies came running up with looks of pure joy and comfort on their faces. I saw quite a few familiar faces all at once. I saw my Angel baby! She’s alive and kicking!
I received the best, perfect compliment from my Working Girls that night. They told me that they knew that I genuinely loved them. They told me that I cared for them like no one else did. One lady said, “No one says good things about us, or truly loves us like you guys do. No one else is as genuinely on our side. We love you. Thank you!”
That moment was so real, so affirming, that it felt like Jesus Christ himself came down from Heaven all the way to the ghetto to pat me on the back.
If you ever wonder why I’m not more focused on the business aspect, or building my company, blah, blah, blah… that would be why.
Because there is no money to be made. There are people. There are needs. There are people who can all put in together a bit at a time, according to their gifts, and we, as a species, we win. In case you somehow missed it, I, Kayla M. Donaldson, won an award for community service from Detroit WDIV Go For It! The link to the segment is below. It was great to be acknowledged by a Detroit Community icon.
When I hear how much we mean to the most vulnerable, persevering people I know, then we ARE doing the right things for the right people for the right reason. We made good things happen.
Tonight’s report is dedicated to Rodney, who always had a smile and a hug for me and Traci. To Chief, a veteran of the Vietnam War who begged for money while leaning on his crutches. He wore a size 10 ½ shoe over what was left of his feet. Prayers to Heaven for the old man who looked out for, and took care of Ms. P. This is dedicated to all my brothers and sisters who didn’t survive through February.
Hi! To all my beautiful friends on the street that read what I write about you, I love you.
Traci is still trying to recover from her flu, so she couldn’t make it out last night. I didn’t fly solo, though. The father of one of the other medical team volunteers rode with me. He was kind, yet also fearless and full of service in his heart. He’s so proud of the work his daughter does.
We saw a whole mix of people last night. I heard some pitiful stories, and a couple of hope filled ones, too.
We started off going to a few isolated spots. It was light outside for the first hour or so of outreach, so that was a bonus. The sun shone brightly to show me that it was as glad to have us back as we were to see it. While my volunteer and I waited for the medical team to come back, we served 4 more homeless people who wandered past us.
We went into a few different places. Some had people there, some didn’t. One place was an abandoned school that was perfectly hidden. There was only one broken window that we could enter the building by. We all crawled in and wandered through the building calling out our presence through the clean, empty hallways. Every clock was stopped, but at a different time. It was dark, but I could see into the different classrooms. Many rooms had the remnants of homeless people on the floor. Lots of blankets, piles of handwarmers, food wrappers, and random bottles. There was a book from Alcoholics Anonymous sitting on the window ledge. I hope they were reading it because there were liquor and beer bottles all over the place.
Next, we found some bridge people. They had a tent and propane. It was well hidden, but the cops kept finding their spot and taking their stuff down. So, they must start over somewhere else. They somehow don’t “disappear” just because they aren’t wanted. She was a kind, sweet lady. I heard her say she is 36 years old. Her husband is 41. They just want to survive.
This next part was THE craziest thing. We went to an abandoned building we have been to many times. This time, we noticed something was different. First, the area in front that used to be filled with trash was all cleaned up. Cool. Then, we noticed that the large hole in the side of the building where we used to enter was completely boarded over. Okay. Then, as we walked around, we noticed that everything, every opening, was boarded and sealed up.
Not cool. There is an old man who can’t walk that lives on the top floor of that building. One volunteer was frantic that he could still be in there. We found a loose opening and tore it open so that one person could go through and check it out. We had to be sure. The first thing he found was a dead dog. Our brave volunteer ventured in further on until he made it to the top floor.
Sure enough, the old man had been boarded up inside the building! The volunteer informed us of another opening. The rest of the volunteers trekked through the brambles to find that missed hole in the wall. We all climbed in and made our way through the graffiti covered building to bring food to the old man.
By the time I got there, I heard him telling the other volunteers about the housing resource caseworker. “List? I’ve been on that list for so long, I don’t even think about it. I used to look forward to them coming to put me someplace I could live, but that’s not happening. It’s better to pretend there is no list. Thank you guys, for coming to check on me. I appreciate it. God bless you folks for seeing me.”
He asked us to pray over him before we left. If you could, keep him in your prayers, too. One of the volunteers is going to address his case manager.
Eventually, we made it to the main strip where a lot of people I know are. Right away, ladies flagged down the van and were running up to see us. A pair of girls grabbed me, hugged me, and cried telling me how much they missed and loved me. They were so happy to be loved on. They were also starving hungry, desperate for hygiene items, and in need of a sleeping bag. I loaded up the hygiene kits into backpacks that I had already extra loaded with socks, handwarmers, emergency blankets, gloves, scarves, and more socks.
I must admit it. I have a special soft place in my heart for the street walking sex workers in Detroit. AKA victims of human trafficking, AKA prostitutes. These girls are relentless. They are always working. They are always in the thick of it. They have such a perilous job. They are the least judgmental to me. They are the realest of people. They subsist on the underbelly of humanity and still find time to laugh with me I asked them where they are staying. If they have a regular safe spot to sleep. They all said, no. They sleep when, where, or if they can. They all also were begging for mace. I haven’t had any in quite a while. I told them I would tell you that’s what they really need right now.
They also told me that the cops were arresting people for loitering and then serving 90 days jail. The plan is to remove the addicts from the areas so that the dealer will go away. We’ll see how that works out.
Another girl told me that a lot of the drug houses had been raided and taken out. That is good to have less drug dealers. But…
Unfortunately, drug houses will let pretty much anyone crash on the floor. I noticed that it has been common in the winter for a lot of these homeless girls to deal with living in one of those places just to get inside for a few months. Are they evil? Yes. Were they also warming stations? Uh, kind of. Weird, right?
That’s also how I found out about the 3 men who we’ve been taking care of for a few years now, who didn’t make it through the winter.
On a happy note! My Mama Bear is still clean, sober, and living on her own in an apartment! You have followed and supported that woman’s journey. How at first she had an apartment that a lot of the other sex workers, including her daughters, would find safety in. Then her husband died. Then she lost her apartment. Then she lost her will, and the addiction got hold of her. Then she lost her daughter to overdose. Then she looked just like a vapor of a woman. A faint impression where a whole woman once was. Then she wanted to be clean again. So, I prayed over her until we both felt our bodies levitate. We prayed our hearts raw.
Then she did it. She was saved. She got out! She lives; she doesn’t just barely exist. We never gave up on her. I know she wishes that her other daughter could join her in a safe and sober life. Until then, we’re both praying for her, and we won’t give up on her either.
Destiny. To be in the place one is supposed to be at the exact moment they are supposed to be there. Everything somehow came together.
From blessed donations, I made a crockpots of 16 pork loins, plus a whole broken down roasted turkey, corn and potatoes. I was by myself which was fine, but it was during the day- which I have never been before. Day Outreach can go to all the places that ae no longer safe after sundown.
I can’t believe the kids even attempted, but Mercy boyfriend crawled under the van in the sleet Monday to fix the front brakes. Half-way there. I drove Traci’s little matchbox car. Thus, I only had enough room for the crockpots, and cookies.
I was introduced to a new set of volunteers that I had never worked with before. The Day Outreach Team. They took me to places I hadn’t been to in years. Places on the Eastside. Places that were once filled with my favorite people. Places where I had heard the most extreme stories.
Ghosts of Classy Ladies, Clever Girls, Engineers, and my beloved Tiny One, hovered over dead, frosted grass. As the van pulled carefully from an unanswered curb, their ghosts slowly melted away behind me.
We made a couple of stops to people in hovels here and there along the way.
Our first swarm was at in a lot next to a boarded-up house. We initially pulled over to help one elderly woman walking alone. She was quite the character. The next thing you know, people were coming from every direction.
The old woman went on about how we were nice people who just wanted to help people. We weren’t doing it for money. We didn’t have an agenda. We weren’t like the others.
Many of the volunteers were family members of other volunteers. They had no problem stepping up to help me get the meals together quickly, and efficiently for every poor soul who the medical team would direct our way. It was quite the medley of people.
I said the same thing to every person, “Merry Christmas! You are so loved, and you are not forgotten.” And all the other mooshy things I say.
One of the last men who we helped there rode up on an old bike. He was filthy, but kind with a genuine smile. He told me that he hadn’t had a Christmas dinner in over 10 years. That this would be his first one since his grandmother died 10 years ago.
“After she wasn’t there, the family stopped getting together. It never happened again. Thank you so much!.” and he gave me one last fist bump with a dirt crusted hand.
He truly meant that thank you.
I told him that his grandmother wanted him to have Christmas dinner. God loved him no matter where he was on his journey. I told him my name was Kayla as I handed him his bag of food and cookies. He told me he had a best friend named Kayla. Then he showed me his wrist. There was a tattoo of the name Kayla written across it.
After I gave him my Christmas blessings and a Christmas dinner, he turned around and returned the blessing. We’re both punk rockers! He was so touched that he met us that day. He said,” Like it wasn’t a coincidence. It was meant to be.”
We roll on through the muck.
I’ve seen houses where the doors are boarded up, and people climbed through an open window. This next house had… just… no front door. I could see people inside sitting on the floor. The house connected to it looked functional, and it had a door. I don’t ask too many questions.
Just, “Would you like some warm, homemade food to eat?”
A sad story from a sweet, young face is my souvenir from that spot. In 2 years, she went from making $25 hr. as a carpenter and owning her own truck, to living in a house with no door and full of predators and drug addicts. She said she’s done a lot of bad things, but she’s going to rehab on Jan. 1. She knows that she knows better than to live this way. I’ll keep praying for her.
The last spot I went to was the last swarm of people that cleaned me out of food. There was also a wonderful bonus Christmas present there for me. I really truly appreciated this gift. I had just finished scooping up food for someone. Then suddenly, I heard my name squeal very loudly from the sidewalk. Next, it hollered, “Is it really you?!”
When I turned around, I saw one of my favorite beloved girls from the old “worst place” house. My beloved Clever Girl! She grabbed onto me like I was a life preserver, and I held onto her tightly for a long time. It felt so good to see her. I felt good to know that she knew she was genuinely loved. We didn’t have anything but a moment. I had long enough to give her my card. She promised to get in touch with me. She has an apartment now on the east side. I can take comfort in knowing that she’s still alive. At the very least she knows we are still out there on the streets. And that my arms are always open to her.
Even if the best we can do is crockpots and cookies from a matchbox car, we’ll find a way to bring the love to as many people who need to feel it as we can find.
Our theme for this week was adapting our Style of Outreach. What we do, where we go, and who we do it for determines how we distribute donations. When it’s busier and we get the swarms, we must be extra alert. We hyper-focus, but on seventy-seventy different things at once. Then we prioritize our attention without losing focus on each person in the crowd. It’s exciting. It’s a mad rush. We’re having fun and being both effective and efficient. We serve everyone and try to ration out donations so that we have enough for everyone who we see that night.
“Those other girls get here before me, and they take all the good stuff!”
Last night was different. Last night we got to take our time and have actual conversations with people. Check in. Get updates on their lives, and the wellbeing of mutual friends. We saw plenty of people who were both desperate and grateful. They were spread out over 3 and a half hours.
The first person we stopped to help was my Little Red-Haired Girl. She was both happy and angry to see us. Happy, because she was hungry. Angry, because she just bought herself an outfit from the Family Dollar because she needed clothes and didn’t know if she would see us.
Someone graciously donated a couple of packages of women’s underwear. Talk about an instant game changer in someone’s faith! She looks like she’s losing some weight. Especially in her face. That’s another reason to need new clothes. I heard her and Traci talking behind the van. I heard the Little Red-Haired Girl tell Traci, “I just want to be clean because it makes me feel so good, and I feel better about myself when I feel good.”
We stayed there for a while waiting for more people to come out and approach the vans. Only a few did. With the weather being warm, I thought for sure we would see throngs. Not so much. Flashlights were a jackpot in the donation this week.
We looked in some alleys, and behind a few buildings, but all the forts and tents had been torn down and disposed of. It means, as you may have read before, that we must try and find everyone all over again. A lot of people with ongoing medical issues, or who were working with volunteers to get back on track but are now lost.
I ran into The Girls Who Reads! I had not seen her in quite some time. That’s because she’s busy with twins! She just had them. She has an apartment. I asked what she needed. She told me she needs everything. So, if you have any baby stuff, I can save you a trip to Salvation Army. Drop it off on my front porch. I even have receipts.
I got to see my best-girl, Darla, Darla’s puppy Baby, and Darla’s Person. When I got out of the van to see Darla, I could not find her. I walked all the way around the Stanbulance, but she wasn’t there. That’s because she was already sitting in the front seat of my van with a smile as big as a pit bull can smile. I gave her some food, and a chew treat. I made sure Darla’s Person, and Baby the puppy, was well cared for, too. Then she followed me back to the van and hung out with me. Her Person came to collect her, but she jumped right back into the driver seat of the van. She turned her face away from him and had a huge grin from ear to ear. What a character!
The day before, I was thinking about Darla and her unconditional love for me. I didn’t have to be anything for her to love me. I just had to accept her love. She doesn’t care if I couldn’t quit smoking cigarettes, again, this week. She doesn’t care about any of the things I am constantly riding myself or judging myself for. It’s not relevant to her love for me. I lay down on the ground of a parking lot like an idiot, and she smothers me with kisses. And in that sacred moment, I understood how unconditional love, how to love as profound God love’s, can be a part of something that can be as unfair as Nature.
We drove up and down the streets looking for anyone we recognized, or anyone sleeping in a doorway. Traci served them all. The nice thing about a slow night like last night, a trickle not a swarm, is that we can spend time with each person. We can let them browse through all the clothing, because the weather is so nice. We can let them take as much as they need, and it always ends up being the people who are normally the last ones served. We can pass out double meals. That’s a big deal, because meals have been on the smaller size lately But it’s something, and it’s (mostly) good for you. It gives each person a chance to be a person and a friend, not just another hand reaching out to the van, grasping for survival.
At one random, bored, moment at the end of the evening. I decided to experiment with my pepper spray. I mean, I had never actually sprayed one before. I walked several feet away and pointed it downwind. I flipped up the cap, then pressed the button. Nothing. I flipped the cap in the other direction and gave it a tiny squeeze, then jumped back. Immediately, even from the one or two tiny air particles, my nose burned, and I began to sneeze violently four times. Traci yelled out, “What’s that awful smell?”
“Pepper spray. I carry it. I should know how to us it.”
An older homeless man who was standing by us and talking to Traci, calmly asked, “Why? You don’t need that.”
He looked me dead in the eyes and said to me, “No one around here would ever want harm you or hurt you. They would have an unbelievable number of people coming after them.”
The power of the unconditional love of God. It’s found in nature. It’s found in people. I found it standing in a gutter and laying on the ground in a parking lot.
