Another article

Here's the article that Kelly wrote. Kelly's real first name in Daniel, but he doesn't like it for whatever reason (just an interesting tidbit for you).

We like to give people, places and things nicknames at Andre House. The house where the staff lives is called “moms.” Our daily, morning meetings are called “plate” because the day’s responsibilities are written down on a paper plate and then posted in the office. One of our long-time employees, Joe, who opens the building each morning and is the go-to-guy for anything building-related – we appropriately call “Building Joe.” We call our men’s and women’s transitional houses “Polk” for short. Our transitional houses are an aspect of our ministry that many friends of Andre House don’t get to see. However, it’s a big part of what we do. We have two houses and invite 6 men and 5 women to stay with us. We stress community. All of our guests eat, pray and share with us in nightly chores. This transition into community life is, many times, the most difficult for our guests to make. Many guests come and go. We ask that they set personal goals for themselves upon entering our program and then conduct progress meetings
every three weeks. The length of a guest’s stay is irrelevant. Most of our guests achieve at least
some of the goals they set for themselves upon entering. If they achieve just one and are a step closer to their overall goal, we’ve done our job, even if they do so in a week or two.

Truth be told, the houses got the nickname Polk because they are located on Polk Street. However, as a history major, I like to think James K., our eleventh president, is there with us in spirit – alongside Brother Andre and our many other patrons. “Manifest Destiny” was the catch phrase during Polk’s presidency. God had already set the stage for an America looking westward. They looked west for something new. This desire for a change is what still brings many people to Phoenix. For many of them, it was destiny – something far outside their reach. This desire for a change is what brought two of our former guests, Frank and Mike, from very different places. In their cases, our program’s success is still being measured.

Frank and Mike were guests at the Polk House when I first arrived this summer. We got along well and became friends. I often found myself struggling with the fact that they were homeless. It bothered me. They were smart, capable people. They were a lot like me. I had a stigma attached to homelessness that I was unaware of. The meaning of the word changed entirely. Many of us picture a Norman Rockwell type scene with a man, in tattered clothing and finger-less gloves, hovering over a burning oil drum trying to keep warm. Those who have no experiences with homelessness rely on what they see on television or in movies – that, or it’s just numbers or percentages. Either way, it remains an abstract, and our mind’s eye paints an inaccurate picture. My struggle wasn’t in understanding these two people. The trouble came in understanding these two men as homeless individuals and changing my preconceived notions of what this meant. Simply put, they were regular people, who didn’t have a place to call their
own.

Frank and Mike both lived at CASS, a homeless shelter across the street from our building, in The Zone. They each found out about our program while talking to staff members during dinner. Based on appearance alone, there aren’t two more different people. For sake of a long, physical description, the only two similarities are: they are both men and they are both in their mid-thirties. They came from different parts of the globe as well: Mike is from rural Illinois, and Frank is from Kenya. However, they were both in very similar situations in their lives. Both of them came to Phoenix for a fresh start. They both: have a child that they love and that drives them to succeed, had long-term relationships with bad break-ups, like to watch and talk about sports, have a good sense of humor, are smart, easy to talk to and are all-around good people. In both cases, their relationship trouble was a major source of their instability. They’re both caught up in similarly difficult and complicated situations. They both would like to be a bigger part of their child’s life, but because of their situation, this has proven to be very difficult. However, with our help they were able to get one step closer to their goal.

During their stay, they were both ideal guests. They took pride in the houses and truly appreciated our being there. Since then, they have both moved on in a very positive way. Mike moved into an apartment in Tempe and is working at a job that he described as “ideal.” Frank is still enjoying his work at a local business and has an apartment to himself in Phoenix. They both join us for dinner occasionally and remain in touch.

These two men helped me realize how lucky I was. They helped me realize that without a loving family and a good support system, everyone could be a setback or two from homelessness. As a new staff member, I was in a transition very similar to theirs. While helping me redefine what homelessness meant to me, they also helped me rediscover family. I realized that our role of support was not only in providing a place to stay. We were their family, and they were now ours. We look forward to coming home from work to eat, talk and laugh with everyone at the dinner table. We look forward to having our extended family there to greet us. Polk was Frank and Mike’s home; the same as mom’s was now mine. Most importantly for me, my thinking changed and I, like James K., was now thinking more laterally. All most people need is a positive change to counteract the negative ones that got them here – something to turn the tide in their favor. When they are most in need, we are there. And it never hurts to know someone genuinely cares.

- KK