Gratification

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“David - we went today and it was destined. The train ride was great, and Lynda hadn’t been in Union Station since she was 16 and was like a kid in a candy store taking pics all around it. Then we had coffee in the garden there among the beautiful Birds of Paradise and Daffodils. We finally got to the museum and there were 2 older women from the church - Mary and Betty (sisters) - who were putting away stuff that was out for the church bazaar this weekend. When they heard thatthe pics on walls and on the columns were of Lynda - they went crazy taking photos of her with her pics, and hearing her story. Then they asked her to speak to anyone who came into the exhibit and tell her stories. 

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She was SO IN HER ELEMENT! It was so gratifying to see her so confident and full of life. She broke down in tears several times when we first got there upon seeing her work. And then reading the blog book you had on the table. Feeling as if she had traveled a million miles to where she is now - but of course not forgetting a single moment of her journey. 

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The women would like her to come back and be available to speak with people. Apparently, they had 280 visitors yesterday - wow! Also - a real perk - they had tables of clothing and purses that were out for the bazaar but they told me Lynda could take whatever she wanted for $0! You know Lynda! We left with 2 huge canvas bags of stuff! The exhibit is brilliant and so engaging. I spoke with a family, mom, dad and jr. in h.s. daughter who now want to come join us on Wednesday nights to deliver food and blankets! They live in Reseda. So we exchanged #’s. Thank you for your work which words cannot describe. It is your heart on display, revealing humanity in all it’s splendor and anguish. love, Karen” (Wescott)

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The Chronic

SURVIVING THE ELEMENTS

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In spite of the efforts of concerned governmental agencies, private institutions and individuals, the vast majority of the homeless population in Los Angeles fend for themselves outdoors. They live on the streets and in alleys, alongside freeway off-ramps and under bridges, sleeping in makeshift structures or bushes outdoors, in vehicles, shelters, abandoned buildings or parks. Simple things we take for granted, such as cleaning clothes, or finding indoor plumbing for washing and relieving oneself, present constant challenges. At a certain point, they become what is known as the “chronically homeless,” seeking out a patchwork of social services to meet their health care and nutritional needs; the prospect of finding transitional or affordable housing for most is an elusive goal. Day after day, they face public indifference, or worse, derision. The possibility of being ticketed, arrested, assaulted or robbed is part of everyday reality. Personal possessions, including medications and sentimental items are subject to confiscation at the whim of city and county agencies or political expediency. The general degradation and constant stress of having to navigate their survival in this environment only serves to exacerbate existing addictions, mental and physical illnesses.

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Some band together in communal encampments, sharing their struggles, gains and losses, steeling themselves against those among them who are subsumed by their vices. So it is with a group I began documenting in mid-2016, surviving under and around the 405 freeway overpass at Nordhoff in North Hills. From one day to the next their makeshift tents and hovels would move from one spot to another along the on- and off-ramps, in an endless game of cat-and-mouse with authorities. A supporting cast of characters came and went, but those at the center of this clique became my friends and confidantes, to the point where they saw me as someone they could vent and share their frustrations with. On better days, the talk would be optimistic, the low flame of their hopes and dreams flickering back to life. Over the course of several months I witnessed, often with a sense of despair, their attempts to achieve some sense of normalcy.

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At the scene of a raid in December 2016 which resulted in the arrest and incarceration of Lynda, Craig, Gracie, Terry, Amie and others, a young LAPD officer remarked that he and his fellow HOPE officers were like “social workers with guns.” That most of those arrested that day continue to be engaged in survival tactics in this same location raises questions about not necessarily the intention but the efficacy of the efforts being made to do more than simply criminalize those having the most difficulty rising above their plight, or just want to be left alone.

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After two years of a mostly friendly and cooperative relationship with this group, I was left with more questions than answers. What is the point at which a human being ceases to matter? We find so many who seem at face value to be their own worst enemies; have they forfeited their right to assistance? Where may a person’s individual right to liberty be impeded by state or community intervention? Should those who are unwilling or – perhaps affected by substance abuse and/or mental instability –unable to proactively seek relief, be subject to the uncertainty of not having a safe haven to stake a claim on what is left of their lives? How does our society feel about the confrontational relationships with law enforcement that result from the inevitable intransigence on both sides, when the compassion training officers might receive to help deal with society’s outliers breaks down?

Solution denied…

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Ted Hayes, 1994 

The activism of Theodore “Ted” Hayes, Jr. began in January 1985, when Justiceville, a community of homeless people in Los Angeles, was founded. It survived for five months, until authorities shut down the shantytown. Hayes entered 35-day fast in protest in response. In 1987, with producer Tom Bolema and the Butchers, he recorded “Ted’s Rap: Justiceville” about the bulldozing of the encampment.

From this evolved The Dome Village community, officially opened in November of 1993 with a $250,000 grant from ARCO. Located in downtown Los Angeles, the 20 Omni-sphere domes were a working prototypical model, key to a comprehensive plan designed to “break the cycle” of homelessness, optimistically named the Exodus, Genesis, Incentive, Initiative Plan (EGIIP).

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Rosa Vasquez and her two children at Genesis I.


“’The idea was to create a family environment…. We recognized that people needed to be in a social environment, but they needed a private space,’ Hayes told the Los Angeles Times. Residents, who paid $70 to $100 a month, were responsible for chores and could buy and cook their own food in a communal kitchen dome. Other domes housed washrooms and laundry facilities. Also on site was a dome for a library containing computers with Internet access.” 

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Photo origin unknown

The project received worldwide acclaim for its innovative concept and proposal for dealing with global homelessness. Attracting attention nationally and internationally, the Dome Village received visits from HRH Prince Edward of England, the Prince of Wales Business Leaders Forum as well as government and business dignitaries from various parts of the world.  

In February 1998 Hayes delivered to the White House his proposal for the creation of a National Homeless Plan to eradicate homelessness in the next ten years. In October of 1998 the City Council of Los Angeles, and in January of 1999 the County passed resolutions in support of the plan. But by November of 2007, the Dome Village was closed due to political and economic obstacles that Ted, his staff and supporters could not overcome. An article in the Los Angeles Times published on October 29, 2006, explained:

“Dome Village had paid $2,500 a month for the 1 ¼ acres, not including property taxes, said founder Ted Hayes, a longtime homeless activist who lived in a dome. But last year, one of the owners, Milton Sidley, wrote to Hayes, saying the overall rent would increase to more than $18,300 a month.

That spelled the end of Dome Village.

‘The property in downtown Los Angeles has appreciated such a great deal at this point,“ said Mike Sidley, Milton Sidley’s son and attorney for the partnership that owns the land. ‘It’s just no longer economically viable to allow them to remain there.’

The dismantling of Dome Village – near the Staples Center – ended an era of experimentation in which Hayes tried to give homeless people their own haven away from skid row.” 

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Skid Row, 1994

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“…still poor…” (but rich in heart)

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Dori Sill has been in her new, Los Angeles Family Housing-subsidized apartment for over a month now. She’s gradually getting her things out of storage and putting the pieces of her life back together.

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Her small apartment is filling up with the vintage furniture and artifacts that were once taken for granted, back in her salad days…

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Her career and lifestyle as a professional musician now in the distant past, Dori hopes to put her arsenal of guitars and keyboards back to work… Now in her early 60s, it may be her best chance to earn a living on her own, as the aneurysm and coma which left her physically hobbled makes it a strain to even climb the stairs to her second-story apartment.

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Max, Dori’s constant canine companion during the homeless years, recently passed away, but Dori still has two large cats to keep her company.

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No longer homeless “but still poor,” Dori takes her lunch each Saturday at the Hope of Valley in Van Nuys, among dozens of others in various stages of homelessness and impoverishment.

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Synchronicity

Synchronicity… worlds meet at the 2nd Annual Homeless Initiative Conference, Cathedral of Our Lady of the Angels, Feb. 8th… Sheila Kuehl of the LA County Board of Supervisors brought our friend Dori in front of the 500 participants, and related her story. Dori was somewhat bemused by the attention, but  much more relaxed and happy now that LAFH has provided her with shelter. 

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The event organizers asked to display some of the One of Us art, including this one of Manuel Flores, Community Liaison for the North Valley Caring Services. 

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In the first person

I picked this sign up outside a 7-11 along my regular bike route today. Folded and tucked under my arm, it was a symbol of abject poverty and marginalization, so I anticipated or channeled a measure of resentment and pity. I detected a mini-gamut of reactions, from the grim smile to the grim encouraging smile (more eyes), or being ignored outright. (So many people frown these days out in public so I couldn’t gauge a difference from my usual rides). 

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In spite of and because of the ratty condition and the felt marker mix of upper and lower case italicized san serif lettering, it will become a piece of documentary evidence, an indictment or an artifact, either way a receipt littered on the ground elevated to the status of Art in the service of social justice. 

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Pedaling into the late afternoon sun with Bob Dylan philosophizing in my ears, it was just a reminder, a pinprick, more than it was a meaningful experience…. Reports abound that it costs $2000 to some guy named Mike to experience professional or recreational slumming. Such naked voyeurism evokes Binyavanga Wainaina’s poverty porn sentiments on patronage and exploitation. 

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Tags: homeless

Students of the J410 Investigative Reporting class at California State University, Northridge listen to and engage with guest speakers Patrick Shibuya, Los Angeles City Attorney’s office; Gracie Crilley, homeless representative; Sean Dinse, Senior Lead Officer, Topanga Division, and Laura Rathbone, Equality Movement143.

Kathy gives a little insight into the panhandling life….