A Night in the Life

My reflections on spending a night at our Emergency Shelter
Katherine Jordan, Executive Director, The Sophia Way

Monday night was very special - it was a fragile and humanizing experience for me. For almost six months I have served as the Executive Director (ED) of The Sophia Way. Within that time I have embraced the organization, the mission, the community and the staff, but always with my eyes directed to the people we serve. In the hopes of a greater connect, understanding and clarity of the realities of homelessness, I decided to spend the night, as a client, at The Sophia Way Emergency Shelter. I am hopeful my words can convey the experience, the emotion, and simply, the humanity of that night.
 
My choice is to always come from a place of transparency - I will point out, approach and dispel the elephant in the room for the benefit of a greater result. The elephant for me - I was simply afraid of staying the night at the Emergency Shelter. I couldn't quite put my finger on it for about a month, and then last week it became clear... I was frightened. As the ED, I find this ironic; I know the quality of the program and staff, the generosity of the meal donors, and I have spent many hours in the actual space that the shelter resides in as my son's Sea Scout group has met there for years. I knew my car would be right outside in the parking lot, my office within a stone's throw, and my home and family ten minutes away... and yet, I was scared. I humbly apologize to those who turn to the Emergency Shelter in need, who have no other choice, who are not familiar, who don't know what to expect, and who are lost in this moment in their lives. I apologize for resonating with my fear, with that voice in my head, for as long as I did, and for not joining you sooner.
 
My second apology goes out to the mothers, who out of necessity have to bring their children to the Emergency Shelter. As I was making the decision to stay the night, I considered bringing my 11-year old daughter with me - and then I changed my mind. I wanted to protect her from the experience - so I left her to sleep safely in her own bed, in her own home. As a mother, this is the piece that has haunted me. I had a choice, so many mothers do not have that choice. To the five mothers with their nine children who joined me at the shelter last night, I am humbled by you. To the mother who played "I'm gonna get you!" with her little one bringing fun and play to his evening even in light of their circumstance; to the mother who tried to calm her exhausted toddler through a temper-tantrum at 11pm; to the mother who held her sick and coughing baby through the night as it was struggling for breath - to all of you, I am humbled by your courage, strength and fortitude.
 
I stayed to myself through the night in the hopes guests might not recognize me, visiting only for a moment with staff who had expected my arrival; I wanted the experience to be as authentic as possible. Even though many guests have been at the shelter for weeks, for months, the majority remained in quiet solitude through the evening. I was grateful for the dinner of chicken and pasta salad, and by 10pm, I was very grateful for my mat and blankets. I woke many times through the night to the sounds around me, to the cacophony of snoring, and spent that time looking out the window at the lights of the Symetra and Concur buildings, knowing the folks who work there might never know this reality right outside their windows - 42 people sleeping on mats - women, children, families - with nowhere else to go.
 
I promised myself to stay as close to the real experience as possible - I would not go home the next morning to shower or get a bit more rest. I did fall short on this commitment; I found I wasn't willing to shower at the shelter, somehow that felt vulnerable in a way I still can't put in words. I decided a sponge bath would have to suffice for my work day, and found myself getting ready in the restroom of our office building next door. The shelter's restroom was so busy with 42 people getting up and ready within an hour's time - that's the excuse I am using to justify my desire for the privacy the Bradford restroom afforded me.
 
I am grateful for my experience; I will hold it close for a very long time. I am certain this experience will allow me to share the realities in an enlightened way I could not before. I am humbled by the people we serve, I am humbled by our staff who commit each day to making other's lives better, and I am humbled by my role to serve, to advocate for, to empower, and to lighten the hardship of those who carry a burden I didn't clearly understand until Monday night.