I have been an outreach worker in three different capacities during my Hammer days. The first time was when I was fresh out of university. I loved it and it wrecked me and I loved it. There is something about meeting people in the midst of daily life instead of an office or shelter that is powerful to cut through any barriers or boundaries. Connecting with people who are living on the street provides a collision of experience. The places where we met were 'home' for them but part of the public landscape for me. Often the places were built for public convenience such as ATM vestibules. Ordinarily if I wasn't an outreach worker, I would be popping into one to grab some cash before carrying on with the rest of my errands downtown, but it was the 'living room' of the men I would connect with there, the place they gathered to stay out of the cold and share festivities with each other. They were always hospitable and kind offering me some of their listerine to drink, thanking me for caring and charging me with making sure that I look out for the 'young ones'. Men who had had jobs until some tragedy struck and their lives had disintegrated.
At the end of the night I would get into my car and drive home to my warm house in Stoney Creek with my family. The dissonance would rattle around in my soul as I climbed into my warm bed at night.
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