News (Media Awareness Project) - CN BC: 'They Don't Understand How Hard It Is' |
Title: | CN BC: 'They Don't Understand How Hard It Is' |
Published On: | 2009-07-17 |
Source: | Vancouver Sun (CN BC) |
Fetched On: | 2009-07-17 17:28:39 |
'THEY DON'T UNDERSTAND HOW HARD IT IS'
Neighbours Claim Shelter Has Attracted Drug Dealers To Their Upscale
Neighbourhood
Nine o'clock on a sunny weekday morning and the business of the day is
already well underway at the Howe Street homeless shelter, tucked
under the Granville Street bridge.
Most of the 40 men and women who only hours earlier were sprawled out
on blue plastic mats across the linoleum floor, have long since
vanished into the city streets.
Only three people -- and a mop-headed little black-and-brown dog --
remain inside the rough but clean facility. They miraculously cling on
to sleep even as brooms and mops whisk around their prone bodies.
The scene is only slightly livelier out back, where three tattooed
young men and one woman sit quietly on camping chairs, leaning into
the shade of the doorway.
A woman, her eyes firmly closed, lies stretched out in the sunshine on
a pile of her belongings.
Shelter manager Aaron Munro is quick to point out the woman has only
just set up the outdoor bed after spending the night inside. No one is
camping out in the alleyway, he tells a reporter.
It's a point he emphasizes, twice.
Media relations like this have become something of a necessity for the
shelter lately. Since its hasty opening in February following a
particularly long and bitter winter, the low-barrier Homeless
Emergency Action Team (HEAT) facility has provoked strong reactions of
anger and frustration among its neighbours in the surrounding
condominium towers of False Creek North.
Residents complain that the shelter has attracted drug dealers,
addicts and prostitutes to their upscale West End neighbourhood.
Fights, public urination and defecation, public sex, and open drug use
have only added to the worries.
"Used syringes, needles and condoms continue to be found. Public areas
and ground-level balconies of the nearby seniors' residence are being
used as toilets," residents who oppose the shelter wrote in a recent
e-mail sent to news outlets.
A 36-bed shelter nearby on Granville Street was shut down after
Housing Minister Rich Coleman withdrew provincial funding last month
due to public discontent.
Now staff and users at the Howe Street facility fear the same fate
after Coleman put the shelter -- and its landlord, the City of
Vancouver -- on notice to clean up its act before the end of July and
prove it can operate in harmony with the neighbourhood.
"We've obviously had an experience here that hasn't worked well for
the neighbourhood or the city," Coleman said in an interview Thursday.
City officials have responded by scrambling to put together a series
of community consultations in advance of the end-of-the-month
deadline. Late Thursday, staff announced they expected to begin
meeting with residents, businesses and service providers as early as
this weekend.
"We're looking for the full range of opinions on this. Homelessness is
a difficult issue to solve here in Vancouver and we really need to
hear as many opinions and solutions as possible," said Jill Davidson,
Vancouver's assistant director of housing.
Residents can also fill out an online survey linked to the city's
website at www.vancouver.ca.
Coleman said he doesn't expect a "formal report" from the city, but is
interested to know what citizens are thinking.
The facility will be shut down "if we can't address the concerns of
this particular community," he said.
Munro says the threat of closure is devastating to shelter users, many
of whom had spent years on the street before "finally finding a place
to call home."
To that end, he says everyone is working hard to convince wary
neighbours the shelter is a positive addition to the area, or, at the
very least, an unobtrusive one.
Already changes are underway to address some of the most critical
concerns.
As of Tuesday this week, the facility is staying open 24 hours a day
to provide a toilet, shower, or place to nap to those in need. Prior
to the change, shelter users had no official access to the facilities
between 10 a.m. and 6 p.m.
Police have beefed up patrols to the area and, according to Munro, the
shelter users themselves have taken up daily "needle sweeps" of the
neighbourhood.
Inside, users are asked to abide by a simple set of rules: No
violence, sex, drug abuse or weapons are allowed. The shelter requires
a staff member to remain in the alley throughout the night in order to
curb illegal behaviour or excessive noise.
"You can't have 40 people in a room without rules," Munro said in
response to allegations that shelter staff appear to have little
control over clients.
Meanwhile, shelter users say they don't understand what all the fuss
is about.
"Drugs in the alleyway, that has been going on for 15 to 20 years.
It's just now they [city residents] are paying attention to it," said
Dave Ryckman, 29.
Still, Ryckman added, "Nobody deliberately goes out of their way to
make a condo owner unhappy, but we get blamed for everything."
From his perch in the shelter doorway, 30-year-old Rob Reid says he
hopes the public will change its mind and allow the shelter to stay in
operation. "They don't understand how hard it is living on the
streets," he said.
Neighbours Claim Shelter Has Attracted Drug Dealers To Their Upscale
Neighbourhood
Nine o'clock on a sunny weekday morning and the business of the day is
already well underway at the Howe Street homeless shelter, tucked
under the Granville Street bridge.
Most of the 40 men and women who only hours earlier were sprawled out
on blue plastic mats across the linoleum floor, have long since
vanished into the city streets.
Only three people -- and a mop-headed little black-and-brown dog --
remain inside the rough but clean facility. They miraculously cling on
to sleep even as brooms and mops whisk around their prone bodies.
The scene is only slightly livelier out back, where three tattooed
young men and one woman sit quietly on camping chairs, leaning into
the shade of the doorway.
A woman, her eyes firmly closed, lies stretched out in the sunshine on
a pile of her belongings.
Shelter manager Aaron Munro is quick to point out the woman has only
just set up the outdoor bed after spending the night inside. No one is
camping out in the alleyway, he tells a reporter.
It's a point he emphasizes, twice.
Media relations like this have become something of a necessity for the
shelter lately. Since its hasty opening in February following a
particularly long and bitter winter, the low-barrier Homeless
Emergency Action Team (HEAT) facility has provoked strong reactions of
anger and frustration among its neighbours in the surrounding
condominium towers of False Creek North.
Residents complain that the shelter has attracted drug dealers,
addicts and prostitutes to their upscale West End neighbourhood.
Fights, public urination and defecation, public sex, and open drug use
have only added to the worries.
"Used syringes, needles and condoms continue to be found. Public areas
and ground-level balconies of the nearby seniors' residence are being
used as toilets," residents who oppose the shelter wrote in a recent
e-mail sent to news outlets.
A 36-bed shelter nearby on Granville Street was shut down after
Housing Minister Rich Coleman withdrew provincial funding last month
due to public discontent.
Now staff and users at the Howe Street facility fear the same fate
after Coleman put the shelter -- and its landlord, the City of
Vancouver -- on notice to clean up its act before the end of July and
prove it can operate in harmony with the neighbourhood.
"We've obviously had an experience here that hasn't worked well for
the neighbourhood or the city," Coleman said in an interview Thursday.
City officials have responded by scrambling to put together a series
of community consultations in advance of the end-of-the-month
deadline. Late Thursday, staff announced they expected to begin
meeting with residents, businesses and service providers as early as
this weekend.
"We're looking for the full range of opinions on this. Homelessness is
a difficult issue to solve here in Vancouver and we really need to
hear as many opinions and solutions as possible," said Jill Davidson,
Vancouver's assistant director of housing.
Residents can also fill out an online survey linked to the city's
website at www.vancouver.ca.
Coleman said he doesn't expect a "formal report" from the city, but is
interested to know what citizens are thinking.
The facility will be shut down "if we can't address the concerns of
this particular community," he said.
Munro says the threat of closure is devastating to shelter users, many
of whom had spent years on the street before "finally finding a place
to call home."
To that end, he says everyone is working hard to convince wary
neighbours the shelter is a positive addition to the area, or, at the
very least, an unobtrusive one.
Already changes are underway to address some of the most critical
concerns.
As of Tuesday this week, the facility is staying open 24 hours a day
to provide a toilet, shower, or place to nap to those in need. Prior
to the change, shelter users had no official access to the facilities
between 10 a.m. and 6 p.m.
Police have beefed up patrols to the area and, according to Munro, the
shelter users themselves have taken up daily "needle sweeps" of the
neighbourhood.
Inside, users are asked to abide by a simple set of rules: No
violence, sex, drug abuse or weapons are allowed. The shelter requires
a staff member to remain in the alley throughout the night in order to
curb illegal behaviour or excessive noise.
"You can't have 40 people in a room without rules," Munro said in
response to allegations that shelter staff appear to have little
control over clients.
Meanwhile, shelter users say they don't understand what all the fuss
is about.
"Drugs in the alleyway, that has been going on for 15 to 20 years.
It's just now they [city residents] are paying attention to it," said
Dave Ryckman, 29.
Still, Ryckman added, "Nobody deliberately goes out of their way to
make a condo owner unhappy, but we get blamed for everything."
From his perch in the shelter doorway, 30-year-old Rob Reid says he
hopes the public will change its mind and allow the shelter to stay in
operation. "They don't understand how hard it is living on the
streets," he said.
Member Comments |
No member comments available...