Only Green Lights

(5 of 5) Today, like every Wednesday and Thursday, Leah and her staff will open the doors of the Charlie Center and welcome their friends in for food, for a shower, supplies, rest, and comfort. When those immediate needs are met, they will make their way, one by one, to Leah or one of the other staff members manning the computers. They will get help wading through the paperwork that stands between them and an ID, SNAP food benefits, and MAP cards for medical care. The Charlie Center will arrange for an appointment at the DPS or the doctor and will help get them there. Clients will have a safe place to receive their mail and store their documents. They can get a phone, a 30 day bus pass, and information about shelter and services. In short, they can begin the arduous process of rebuilding their lives.

They do good work at the Charlie Center, but the work is not really what is most striking. The thing that really stands out is that being at the Charlie Center feels a lot more like a family reunion than charity. Folks are greeting each other by name, asking after mutual friends, hugging and laughing with one another. “Did you ever get in touch with EJ?” “How’s your leg healing up?” “Is this your first time? Come sit with us.” You hear a lot of love too– “I love your hat.” “I love your dog.” “I love you, man. It’s been a while.” That’s just the way Leah wants it. It’s what she calls, “concierge navigation services” – a place in the world where people without homes can feel at home.

“What I do isn’t that hard. It’s not rocket science, or even that complicated,” Leah tells me. “It’s just listening and helping with simple needs. I’ve had to learn a lot of things that I never thought I would – all about fundraising, grant writing, working with attorneys and accountants, creating a board of directors, managing a staff, navigating the system. I don’t love that part of things, but I do it for my friends. I just do the next thing. I keep going, so that they can too.”
(5/5)