"Did the weather come on yet?" one of the men asked. CNN was on in the hospitality room of BJ's place, a homeless shelter for ten men in the basement of the Community Church on East 35th Street. The men ate sandwiches, cookies and ice cream from a buffet spread and watched an endless parade of talking heads on television discuss politics.
A few of the men expressed their own opinions, but it wasn't the news that really interested them. It was the weather. Silence came over the room as the cheery meteorologist spoke of temperatures going down to freezing that night.
BJ's Place at the Community Church is one of 140 shelters in the five boroughs coordinated by the Partnership for the Homeless which provides a warm and safe place to sleep for about 1400 men and women on any given winter night.
The majority of shelters take their guests from nine drop-in centers in the city that are funded by the Department of Homeless Services and mandated to take in anyone who would otherwise be out on the street. Once inside the drop-in center, it can take up to two weeks before getting a shelter placement. There are screenings for contagious diseases such as TB or infectious hepatitis, as well as psychiatric evaluations, and counseling. While waiting for a shelter placement, a guest can stay overnight at the drop-in center, but there are no beds. They can also go to one of the city's shelters, but many would rather not. Perhaps they were mugged there in the past. City shelters have improved in recent years but some of the homeless would rather wait for a private shelter or take their chances on the streets.
Outreach Team
"Homeless people are not freezing to death but a lot of them remain out there freezing," said Bill Appel, Executive Director of Emergency Services for the Partnership for the Homeless.
The Partnership for the Homeless has an outreach team called First Team that approaches homeless people on the street and encourages them to go to the drop-in centers. And First Team will keep track of those that don't come in to make sure they are alright.
"Starting in September, we come up with a list of people that are out there, vulnerable to elements," said Appel. "We note the different locations and check on them on a regular basis. There's a new location now on the West Side Highway from the lower West Village to about 20th Street where there are these large cement pillars in the middle of the street to redirect traffic; in between these tall pillars, some homeless people are staying. Even cars going by wouldn't notice that three or four people are existing within five feet of them."
First Team makes contact with the homeless, offering to give them a ride to a detox, a drop-in center or a hospital, depending on what they deem most helpful. But they do not bring clothing or food. "We do not try to enable people to remain on the street," said Appel. "Our objective is to get them inside. And if they are in danger of freezing, if it is below 32 degrees and they don't have shoes or a coat, if they appear to be mentally impaired, we call 911 to pick them up."
Residents to BJ's at the Community Church all came in out of the cold, either voluntarily or through the efforts of First Team, to a drop-in center on West 23rd Street known as Peter's Place, the only drop-in center in the city geared for the elderly and frail reclusive homeless people. "A lot of them were out there for years," said Bill Appel. That would be hard to tell by looking at them now.
A Night At BJ's
The ten guests arrived at BJ's about 8:30 in the evening. They had just had a hot meal at Peter's Place and were transported from there by yellow school bus. They entered cheerfully, as if happy to be home, and were greeted warmly by two women volunteers. The men were neatly dressed (donated clothing is available at the drop-in centers, some of it brand new) and polite.
They will get to return to BJ's every night for the rest of the week, Monday to Saturday. On Sunday the church has other uses for the room and they are sent elsewhere-if there is space. One of the men mentioned to the volunteer that he spent the previous night in a chair.
But tonight they are feeling good with a roof over their heads, a bed, clean linen, clean towels, and a welcoming atmosphere. The rules are few: They must sign in. No alcohol or drugs. Lights out at 10:30, up at 5:30. But there is one hard rule: even though they will be returning for the rest of the week, they are not allowed to leave any belongings behind.
PROFILE OF THE GUESTS AT BJ'S Volunteer Sue Kistler drew up a profile of a few of BJ's recent guests: PAUL, who has since found an apartment, was a scriptwriter for Sid Caesar, Mort Sahl, and Lenny Bruce, among others. He kept us in stitches with a steady stream of jokes--some good, some terrible. GUY, born in New York in 1939, is a maintenance man who can always get our TV to focus. He has two daughters and a son, none of whom live nearby. Guy hopes to return to school when he finds a place to live. He is interested in the paranormal and wants to study electronics with the idea of finding connections. MANUEL, born in Colorado but a New Yorker for many years, is an actor in TV, film and radio. A Native American, he finds himself inevitably typecast in films. Doing radio or voice-overs, however, his cultured tones evidenced years of theatrical training. JOSEPH, born in Queens, lived there all his life until last year when his landlord raised the controlled rent by $25, which Joseph couldn't afford on his SSI. He has severe diabetes and is on disability, but is always smiling and willing to help. |
"They'd like to leave something to say this is my place," explained volunteer Sue Kistler.
A retired teacher and editor, Sue Kistler has been a volunteer at BJ's for the last eight years, leaving her apartment in Murray Hill one night a month to stay overnight with the guests. She says she was bothered by seeing the homeless on the street ever since moving to the city nine years ago, but the day she came across a man who had frozen to death, she felt she had to do something. "He was lying right on the street," she said. "They had just found him."
Ms. Kistler admits she was nervous the first night she volunteered, but says she doesn't feel threatened at all now. Volunteers work in pairs, and they get their own room and bathroom. According to the Partnership for the Homeless, there has never been a threatening incident in the 18 years they have been coordinating the shelters. Interestingly, about 85 percent of the people on the street are men, and 85 percent of those who volunteer at the shelters are women.
"It is the only thing I'm doing that's useful," says Kistler. A few of the men stayed up after their snack and watched Monday night football, read the paper, talked or played scrabble with the volunteers. There's a little porch upstairs where they can go outside for a smoke. But most of them were eager just to go to bed.
BJ's Place was named after BJ Knowlton, a sailor who traveled all over the world but ended up homeless as a result of alcoholism. He went through the shelter system, sobered up, and was one of the first guests to stay at the Community Church in the early 80's. Before long he was running the shelter, keeping everything ship-shape and living there with the men, until he died two years ago at the age of 82.
The Way Back
The men are up early, having coffee and a light breakfast. A hot meal awaits them at Peter's Place. The morning news on CNN blares on about the Florida votes and the falling stock market. Meanwhile, the weather picture for the following night predicts wind chills in the minus numbers. The bus is there at 6:30 for their return trip to Peter's Place.
Some of the men work at jobs, but they don't earn enough to put together a deposit and a monthly rent. Some are enrolled in NetWork, a job training and placement program run by the Partnership for the Homeless. One of them mentions he will soon be moving into permanent housing.
"The objective of the drop in center is to move people into a living situation within nine months," said Bill Appel," and Peter's Place has a good record of doing that. But you're not going to be able to bring someone who has been out there five or ten years into permanent housing in five or ten days" says Appel. "There's a lot of mental illness, drugs and alcohol. They need extensive case management and networking with other agencies. It doesn't happen over night." vOver the years she has volunteered, Sue Kistler has seen many of the men at BJ's move on. "We don't have the same ten guys staying here this year that we did last year. But we do have several of the same ones we had in October.
"It's a very slow turnover," says Kistler. "But there is a turnover."
Related Resources:
(Jan '01) "Did the weather come on yet?" one of the men asked. CNN was on in the hospitality room of BJ's place, a homeless shelter for ten men in the basement of the Community Church on East 35th Street. The men ate sandwiches, cookies and ice cream from a buffet spread and watched an endless parade of talking heads on television discuss politics.
A few of the men expressed their own opinions, but it wasn't the news that really interested them. It was the weather. Silence came over the room as the cheery meteorologist spoke of temperatures going down to freezing that night.
BJ's Place at the Community Church is one of 140 shelters in the five boroughs coordinated by the Partnership for the Homeless which provides a warm and safe place to sleep for about 1400 men and women on any given winter night.
The majority of shelters take their guests from nine drop-in centers in the city that are funded by the Department of Homeless Services and mandated to take in anyone who would otherwise be out on the street. Once inside the drop-in center, it can take up to two weeks before getting a shelter placement. There are screenings for contagious diseases such as TB or infectious hepatitis, as well as psychiatric evaluations, and counseling. While waiting for a shelter placement, a guest can stay overnight at the drop-in center, but there are no beds. They can also go to one of the city's shelters, but many would rather not. Perhaps they were mugged there in the past. City shelters have improved in recent years but some of the homeless would rather wait for a private shelter or take their chances on the streets.
Outreach Team
"Homeless people are not freezing to death but a lot of them remain out there freezing," said Bill Appel, Executive Director of Emergency Services for the Partnership for the Homeless.
The Partnership for the Homeless has an outreach team called First Team that approaches homeless people on the street and encourages them to go to the drop-in centers. And First Team will keep track of those that don't come in to make sure they are alright.
"Starting in September, we come up with a list of people that are out there, vulnerable to elements," said Appel. "We note the different locations and check on them on a regular basis. There's a new location now on the West Side Highway from the lower West Village to about 20th Street where there are these large cement pillars in the middle of the street to redirect traffic; in between these tall pillars, some homeless people are staying. Even cars going by wouldn't notice that three or four people are existing within five feet of them."
First Team makes contact with the homeless, offering to give them a ride to a detox, a drop-in center or a hospital, depending on what they deem most helpful. But they do not bring clothing or food. "We do not try to enable people to remain on the street," said Appel. "Our objective is to get them inside. And if they are in danger of freezing, if it is below 32 degrees and they don't have shoes or a coat, if they appear to be mentally impaired, we call 911 to pick them up."
Residents to BJ's at the Community Church all came in out of the cold, either voluntarily or through the efforts of First Team, to a drop-in center on West 23rd Street known as Peter's Place, the only drop-in center in the city geared for the elderly and frail reclusive homeless people. "A lot of them were out there for years," said Bill Appel. That would be hard to tell by looking at them now.
A Night At BJ's
The ten guests arrived at BJ's about 8:30 in the evening. They had just had a hot meal at Peter's Place and were transported from there by yellow school bus. They entered cheerfully, as if happy to be home, and were greeted warmly by two women volunteers. The men were neatly dressed (donated clothing is available at the drop-in centers, some of it brand new) and polite.
They will get to return to BJ's every night for the rest of the week, Monday to Saturday. On Sunday the church has other uses for the room and they are sent elsewhere-if there is space. One of the men mentioned to the volunteer that he spent the previous night in a chair.
But tonight they are feeling good with a roof over their heads, a bed, clean linen, clean towels, and a welcoming atmosphere. The rules are few: They must sign in. No alcohol or drugs. Lights out at 10:30, up at 5:30. But there is one hard rule: even though they will be returning for the rest of the week, they are not allowed to leave any belongings behind.
PROFILE OF THE GUESTS AT BJ'S Volunteer Sue Kistler drew up a profile of a few of BJ's recent guests: PAUL, who has since found an apartment, was a scriptwriter for Sid Caesar, Mort Sahl, and Lenny Bruce, among others. He kept us in stitches with a steady stream of jokes--some good, some terrible. GUY, born in New York in 1939, is a maintenance man who can always get our TV to focus. He has two daughters and a son, none of whom live nearby. Guy hopes to return to school when he finds a place to live. He is interested in the paranormal and wants to study electronics with the idea of finding connections. MANUEL, born in Colorado but a New Yorker for many years, is an actor in TV, film and radio. A Native American, he finds himself inevitably typecast in films. Doing radio or voice-overs, however, his cultured tones evidenced years of theatrical training. JOSEPH, born in Queens, lived there all his life until last year when his landlord raised the controlled rent by $25, which Joseph couldn't afford on his SSI. He has severe diabetes and is on disability, but is always smiling and willing to help. |
"They'd like to leave something to say this is my place," explained volunteer Sue Kistler.
A retired teacher and editor, Sue Kistler has been a volunteer at BJ's for the last eight years, leaving her apartment in Murray Hill one night a month to stay overnight with the guests. She says she was bothered by seeing the homeless on the street ever since moving to the city nine years ago, but the day she came across a man who had frozen to death, she felt she had to do something. "He was lying right on the street," she said. "They had just found him."
Ms. Kistler admits she was nervous the first night she volunteered, but says she doesn't feel threatened at all now. Volunteers work in pairs, and they get their own room and bathroom. According to the Partnership for the Homeless, there has never been a threatening incident in the 18 years they have been coordinating the shelters. Interestingly, about 85 percent of the people on the street are men, and 85 percent of those who volunteer at the shelters are women.
"It is the only thing I'm doing that's useful," says Kistler. A few of the men stayed up after their snack and watched Monday night football, read the paper, talked or played scrabble with the volunteers. There's a little porch upstairs where they can go outside for a smoke. But most of them were eager just to go to bed.
BJ's Place was named after BJ Knowlton, a sailor who traveled all over the world but ended up homeless as a result of alcoholism. He went through the shelter system, sobered up, and was one of the first guests to stay at the Community Church in the early 80's. Before long he was running the shelter, keeping everything ship-shape and living there with the men, until he died two years ago at the age of 82.
The Way Back
The men are up early, having coffee and a light breakfast. A hot meal awaits them at Peter's Place. The morning news on CNN blares on about the Florida votes and the falling stock market. Meanwhile, the weather picture for the following night predicts wind chills in the minus numbers. The bus is there at 6:30 for their return trip to Peter's Place.
Some of the men work at jobs, but they don't earn enough to put together a deposit and a monthly rent. Some are enrolled in NetWork, a job training and placement program run by the Partnership for the Homeless. One of them mentions he will soon be moving into permanent housing.
"The objective of the drop in center is to move people into a living situation within nine months," said Bill Appel," and Peter's Place has a good record of doing that. But you're not going to be able to bring someone who has been out there five or ten years into permanent housing in five or ten days" says Appel. "There's a lot of mental illness, drugs and alcohol. They need extensive case management and networking with other agencies. It doesn't happen over night." vOver the years she has volunteered, Sue Kistler has seen many of the men at BJ's move on. "We don't have the same ten guys staying here this year that we did last year. But we do have several of the same ones we had in October.
"It's a very slow turnover," says Kistler. "But there is a turnover."
Related Resources:
Sharron's room is small but filled with light. The bed is made, everything is clean and neat, a teddy bear the only sign that a teenager lives here. Sharron is 16 and soft-spoken. She only recently moved into this room at Inwood House on East 82nd, where she will stay until she has her baby.
Inwood House is a residence for pregnant teens, one of four in the city. But these young women are not here for a brief detour from their lives while they have their babies and then return back to their families. The girls in residence at Inwood House have themselves been in foster care for years, twenty percent of them for a decade or longer. Perhaps their parents died of AIDS, were incarcerated, lost custody or simply decided they couldn't cope.
As soon as the city finds out a teen in foster care is pregnant, they are transferred out of their foster homes and into a maternity residence, a requirement to insure that they are given the support they need during pregnancy. Indeed, a New York Presbyterian Hospital study in the 1980's found babies born at Inwood house were much healthier, with fewer pre-term births and low-weight births than babies of teen mothers seen at community clinics.
Nevertheless, it is yet another shift for these teens who finding themselves pregnant are then thrust into one more temporary home, living with 35 other young women.
"I thought it was going to be bad," admitted Kim, a 20-year old who has been at Inwood House since January. "But they help us a lot -- with placements and school and parenting classes." And, most important to Kim, she found the staff trustworthy. "When I have problems, I can speak to someone and I know it will stay with that person."
Sharron, was also fairly comfortable with her new surroundings. "I like the independence, " she said. "I like having my own room, and being able to come and go as I please."
Asked what the hardest part was in their present living situation, Tamara, 16 years old, spoke right up: "Being pregnant!"
PREVENTING TEEN PREGNANCY
The United States has the highest teen pregnancy rate of any industrialized nation, according to a report by the Campaign to End Teen Pregnancy. Four out of ten young women become pregnant in the U.S. at least once before they reach the age of 20. While the teen birth rate has declined nationally by 18 percent since 1991, New York still ranks number 42 among the 50 states in teenage pregnancies.
Citywide, the figures for the last two years available from the New York City Department of Health show a 9 percent reduction (from 13,020 to 11,793 teen births), although the teen birth rate actually increased in Queens and Staten Island.
What can we do to prevent teen pregnancy? Plenty, thinks Gladys Carrion, Esq., Inwood House's Executive Director. "We need to prepare adolescents to be successful adults," she suggests. "They need job training, schools that work, and more mentoring to give them significant adults in their lives.
"We need more programs to help adolescents who have experienced violence become whole again," she continued. There is a correlation between adolescents who have witnessed violence and teen pregnancy.
"And we need to help families be whole so they don't have children going into foster care" she said. "Ninety percent of the children in foster care are not there because of abuse, but because of neglect, which translates into poverty. What are we doing to eliminate poverty?!"
INWOOD HOUSE
Inwood House, originally located in the Inwood section of the city, was founded in 1830 as The Magdelen Society with funding from church women, their friends, and a $100 contribution from the city. In addition to the maternity residence and a Mother/Baby Foster Care Program, Inwood House has a Young Father's Program that works with young men on what it means to be a father. "It's not just about child support," explained Ms. Carrion. "It's about becoming a caring parent."
They also run Teen Choice, a coed pregnancy prevention program going into 14 junior high and high schools in the city, and Project Straight Talk which reac hes out to 5th grade boys about their responsibility with pregnancy prevention.
There is a school on the premises at Inwood House, a computer lab, parenting classes, writing workshops, an internship program, and just plain fun: on the day we visited, a trip was in the making to Virginia Beach.
"These girls hear over and over about being a parent now and having to be responsible," said Kathleen Clark, Development Director at Inwood House, "but they are also still teenagers, and they need recreation and art and music."
DETERMINED TO BE THE BEST MOTHERS
Although social workers at Inwood House explore all options with the young women, including terminating the pregnancy or putting their babies up for adoption, very few are interested in these alternatives.
"There is real peer pressure not to go with adoption or abortion," explained Ms. Carrion, "and that can make it difficult for any of the girls who may not want the baby." The predominant attitude is ÔI'm going to be the best mother there is.' Coming out of foster care themselves, they tend to feel ÔI'm not going to do to my baby what was done to me.'
Unfortunately, some of the young women do eventually lose their babies to the system and repeat that cycle.
Between 120 and 140 pregnant teenagers go through the Inwood House residence in the course of a year, having their babies and then, very often, waiting months for a new placement in foster care.
At present there is a terrible shortage of foster homes that will take in a mother and her baby. While they wait, the young women return to Inwood House and leave their infants in a nursery at the hospital, visiting daily.
"It's not easy to find families to take in these girls," said Ms. Carrion.
One sign of improvement is a recent contract awarded Inwood House by the city's Administration for Children's Services to almost double the Mother/Baby Foster Care. Inwood House will also open up several Mother/Baby group homes, as part of this contract, and has already established an office in Jamaica, Queens, offering teen parents follow-up assistance including parenting classes and help with independent living skills.
We may all shiver when we hear of yet another report of youth and violence, with young people as the victims as well as the ones committing the violent acts. Why can't someone do something, we ask? And officials answer by offering yet another violence prevention program.
But many of these programs, even some of the best-known, simply don't work.
According to an article this month in the New York Times ("Scared Straight Takes a Detour; Despite National Recognition, the State Cuts Back Program, Saying It's 'Not Effective'" ), the Scared Straight program that brought adolescents into prisons for a first-hand feel of the realities of prison life has not reduced violent crime among adolescent participants. In fact, some research indicates it may increase it. The Times story reports that New Jersey is phasing out the program.
In New York, however, it is still "up and running," according to the Department of Correctional Services in Albany. All that's different is its name, Youth Assistance Program.
This is not the only program still in existence that apparently does not work in preventing youth violence. A report by the National Institute of Justice on the subject includes:
This report, updated in July 1998, and based on a review of more than 500 crime prevention program evaluations, measured reductions in delinquency, juvenile crime, youth gang activity, youth substance abuse, and other high-risk factors related to youth violence. While a program may have other beneficial effects, as surely a summer jobs program does, it is only rated here on the basis of preventing youth violence.
What does work? According to Dr. Gerald Landsberg, Director of the Institute Against Violence at NYU, early identification can make all the difference. "Many kids at risk could be identified in pre-school or elementary school by their bullying or aggressive behavior," explained Dr. Landsberg. "But there is little intervention at that age. By the time they become adolescents, the behavior is well ingrained."
Programs that do prevent violence, according to Dr. Landsberg, include:
"But there's not a single magic bullet, like a polio vaccine, that will prevent violence," cautioned Dr. Landsberg. He recommends multiple intervention methods: mentoring, conflict resolution programs, parenting workshops. "The more you do, the greater the exposure to these programs, and the earlier the better, the more likely it will be to have an impact."
The National Institute of Justice study listed all the programs mentioned by Dr. Landsberg as either promising or proven to work, as well as a few others including:
Efforts aimed at reducing domestic violence would also reduce youth violence, according to a report by the American Psychological Association. A child that sees a parent of family member abused is more likely to see violence as a way to solve problems and likely to abuse others.
"Children are more aggressive and grow up more likely to become involved in violenceÑeither as victimizer or victimÑif they witness violent acts," according to this 1997 report.
Heavy exposure to violence on television and in other media was also listed as an influence: "When violence and sexual aggression are combined in the media, in song lyrics, in computer games, and in the vernacular, the message of violence (including sexual assault) is reinforced."
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According to Dr. Landsberg, there are few resources devoted to violence prevention programs. "In New York State, it's lousy. There is no systematic source of funding. Individual schools may or may not have a program in place," Landsberg explained. "The Board of Education has not made it a priority. Instead the emphasis is on metal detectors or security guards."
Even teacher training is lacking in terms of violence prevention. The United Federation of Teachers has a training program for teachers dealing with potential violence in the classroom. "It's an excellent training," said Landsberg, "and yet it is not required for new teachers by the Board of Education or by individual schools. How can this be, wonders Landsberg, when teachers can exacerbate or help the problem.
What's needed is a commitment by policy makers to violence prevention programs that work and a move away from spending so much on jails and prisons. "The issue is not having the money," says Dr. Landsberg, "but where the money is spent."