TW: this contains some discussion of mental health and suicide
The other day, I arranged to meet someone. We were going to meet outside her current digs, and go across the road to play some board games.
Sounds fairly uneventful doesn’t it? Suffice to say it was a surprise to find that while waiting outside her place, I was swiftly asked to leave and “wait for her on the street”, as it was “against government policy” (apparently), for me to be waiting outside where she is (currently) living.
How did this come to pass? I’m glad you asked. I was delighted when upon about ten minutes of doing very important things on my phone, outside her place of living[1], a security guard came outside. He eyed me quite keenly and I made a move to get out my phone number, I am after all very good looking. Alas, he lifted a brow and asked me what I was doing.
“I am waiting for someone.”
“Who?”
“Someone.”
This war of words went on for some time. My delight at their keen interest in me, was only heightened as he subsequently told me to “calm down” and that he would fetch a manager. I mean I can’t help thinking there was something in the dynamic that meant he was annoyed when I didn’t just… politely fuck off. Can’t think what that can be.
Anyway, he was unconvinced that I was Gloria’s[2] “friend” (I’m actually not… but that was not the point). He was instead convinced that I was “from somewhere”. Of course, I do not, and should not blame the security man, as underpaid and underappreciated as he inevitably is.
The plot thickened however. Imagine my surprise when it turned out that my presence outside Gloria’s place of living is “against government policy.” (For the record, it isn’t).
***
Gloria is a fan of board games. We’ve spent many an hour in gaming shops and it’s how she likes to spend any spare income. I know all those pennies should instead be spent on a deposit for a house. She’s on disability benefits so I’m thinking it should only take a couple of years. Perhaps we can ask DLUHC to look into this on behalf of the PM?
So yeah, Gloria like board games. I’m not convinced any of her support workers know this, bar Martin (not his real name), who she was very fond of at the last hotel, but I am happy to be corrected.
You know “support workers”, whatever that means. They wear lanyards in case you wish to be able to distinguish them. I’m not sure if you can approach them on the street and ask for “support” but you could always try. What do you have to lose?
Anyway, back to the dispute outside a hotel… sorry temporary accommodation… sorry I mean a hostel. No it’s not a hostel either, definitely NOT a hostel. I mean I suppose it could be worse. Gloria could be at the dispensation of the “vultures” of exempt accommodation (not my term, simply sharing)…
Of course, I am perfectly relaxed about weird looks. For my part, I was wearing my oversized GAA jacket and a bright pink Wimbledon baseball (tennisball?) cap. Suffice to say a south London roadman recently commented, “good to see you’ve shown up wearing three different outfits again”.
So back to this, “where are you from” business. Because that’s the question I kept getting. It wasn’t just “Hi Danielle”, it was “Danielle from where?”
I mean I wasn’t telling them the whole story, but again, why did I need to? Is Gloria detained? No. But then things escalated. It turned out, that I should have informed them that I was meeting Gloria (again, just for the sake of any confusion, we were standing outside, I hadn’t even tried to go inside. The sun was out!)
They went onto tell Gloria that she “should have told them, that I was meeting her.” That’s because they are trying to protect her of course.
I mean, of course I actually was from somewhere, though I’m rather ashamed to admit. It’s not like people at the behest of London’s dysfunctional homelessness “services” have friends. I was though, nervous to admit I was from a charity. I didn’t want them assuming that I have “moral authority”.
Of course, I did have moral authority. Not only was I from a charity with a “.org” address (which means I am just simply better than most other people) - but I also have moral authority because I’m white. And for the sake of any confusion, Gloria is black. We couldn’t be friends hanging out to go play board games… because that would be weird…
Anyway, whose risk are we even talking about? I’m not convinced this is about Gloria at all, to be perfectly honest, nor the residents inside. I would wager it’s more about those reports staff from this well-known homelessness and support agency in London, have to send to WCC (Westminster City Council) to prove that they have been “managing risk” sufficiently.
Whose risk?
Trigger warning for the following link;
Here’s a beautiful poem, written by the brilliant Simon Whitter, about risk. People at the behest of very odd and dysfunctional services are often treated as the risk. We need to “manage” people’s risk. Funny how it’s usually a paid, white middle class “professional” who is given the task of managing the risk of predominately working class people? Yeah funny that.[3]
So the staff, politely – (honestly I wish to make it clear I am not putting any blame on them whatsoever, because it’s totally a systemic issue as I relayed to them in an absolutely non-patronising way at the time) – anyway the staff requested that they wanted Gloria to inform them “for future reference” that I was coming to meet her, to “safeguard any risks”. Apparently there were “vulnerable” people living inside. I asked them they meant by “vulnerable”; the response?
“I can’t tell you that, to protect their confidentiality.”
Turns out that protecting Gloria’s confidentiality in terms of who she meets with, is not relevant. They’re funny things you know, support workers. Never to be seen in the wild without a lanyard, a clipboard and a stern glance (usually because they are asked to do impossible tasks for not much money nor thanks). Armed with their clipboard, they will usually demand that you relay every mistake you have ever made since you first exited the womb (ie, what is wrong with you, rather than what happened to you). This is done, so they know exactly how to help you of course. Display any personal strengths or skills to a support worker at your peril, you may be denied support because you are not vulnerable enough, or worse, “not sufficiently suicidal”. (If you want to see a letter that says that, drop me a line).
And while we are on the point of “vulnerability” (and for anyone reading this with a cynical eye), what does that even mean? Who among you has not come across someone supposedly vulnerable? I mean it is a word I can’t stand. A bit of vulnerability never hurt anyone; especially not a Byronic hero (or indeed a Barry Lyndon. When they display any vulnerability, they get a medal for it, or more often, a kiss et al). A friend, or someone who you trust, who tells you it’s okay to be vulnerable can be just the ticket, particularly when we fawn so much as a society over the “resilient” single mum.
Pushing this doublethink about “risk” leads us down only one path. It leads us quite consciously, into a world of those holding the power, offering the service to get someone back on their feet. What for those people who want to help themselves back on their feet? And what happens when we treat people like this? We remain too nervous of these conversations – but there’s one thing that happens when services operate in this way. I hate to use the terms nanny and state together as this might attract JRM stans, but I think you get my meaning. Gloria doesn’t want the taxpayer putting her up in a hotel. Adam[4] doesn’t want another year added to the ten years he’s spent already, in this country waiting for his asylum application to be processed, and thus in and out of the most horrendous hostel accommodation I’ve ever seen. He wants to be able to thrive on his own, and contribute to society.
But yeah I’m sure this is what Beveridge, what Bevan always dreamed of!
Doublethink
There’s some irony to this all I guess, because there usually is. I’m not sure what element I like best. The fact that now Gloria and I will be meeting at the charming Oasis Waterloo, rather than her place of living. I wonder what the staff at the homelessness service have to say about that? Will they do a risk assessment? Probably.
Gloria has board games once a week that requires her to walk along the main street ON HER OWN. She could be attacked! Better do a risk assessment. She has to then cross a MAIN ROAD. Better do another risk assessment! She could be run over! She’s going to then play board games with a bunch of sickos for hours. Of course, studies have linked violent behaviour to board games saying they promote all kinds of horrible things.[5]
I know for my colleagues in Northampton who work alongside people with long-term health conditions, they’ve also been working alongside people who don’t want to be “fixed”, and have also ended up connecting them to community board game groups. Some have even set new groups up. Oh and suddenly they are feeling healthier, more at peace with the world? Who would have thought. Relationships matter apparently.
Connection
I’m not sure how to end this but the fact we were only trying to go play board games has got me thinking. Are board games the problem? I am… not convinced. Is it Tory governments? I’m not sure they’ve helped (not that they are proper Tories anyway). But I’m not convinced past Labour ones, nor current Labour assemblies, or councils are doing much better when it comes to rough sleeping. I suppose the problem is the Great British housing crisis, and there’s not much we can do about that, so better put up and shut up. Or just endlessly blame a lack of money. Because it’s funny how the GLA are spending millions more on rough sleeping, yet people are returning to the streets, four people every day in fact.
For the record, if I worked for a homelessness charity who get their diktats from local authorities and government, I’m sure I’d have the same attitude, and would have to follow this weird rules and procedures like my colleagues. Instead I’ve been blessed with working alongside Gloria, who’s opened my eyes to the amazing possibilities of the world beyond. Even when you don’t have a place to call home.
Life is terrible at the best of times, we might as well try to hold even a bit of hope alongside people who are really going through the mill. I fear no-one in the industrial complex that has become our Great British Welfare State is going to hold any.
The venn of dysfunctional government; a dysfunctional homeless system and right to buy fucking us all – has meant her prospects of affordable, secure housing seem bleak. She’ll still have her board games I guess. Maybe our taxes would be better spent by the HMG on just giving people money to rent a place, rather than employing the middle classes to tell them what is best. Besides, maybe people like a drink because they don’t have a stable home? Maybe they get angry, and aggressive because they don’t have a stable home? Maybe not having a stable home is actually causing their problems to worsen, triggering past trauma?
What next for Gloria? Who knows, because she doesn’t. She no longer has hopes and dreams because the reality has been too cruel. She’s made a few friends at hellfire club but these friendships won’t be sustained, because she won’t be here for long. She never is. She’ll inevitably be moved to some godawful place like Blackpool or Birmingham[6] and she’ll have to start all over again.
These days it is hard to hold much hope when you work alongside people going through difficult times. With Grenfell, with everything that is going on in the housing system, it all seems incredibly bleak. But for Gloria and others in a similar situation suffering under huge bureaucratic institutions, perhaps there is change coming. WCC is under new leadership and is going through (another) restructure. Kwajo Tweneboa is daring to suggest that people housed at her majesty’s seeming (dis)pleasure, shouldn’t just be grateful for a roof; they deserve somewhere they can call home.
I’ll end with a quote from Gloria, “a hotel is not a home”.
[1] I know it’s probably annoying you that I am using different terms to explain this person’s living situation, will explain later
[2] Name changed for confidentiality purposes, which actually, is on topic
[3] For the sake of any and all confusion, by writing that, I mean that it is not funny.
[4] Name changed
[5] Free tshirt in the post for everyone who gets this reference
[6] Obviously I am kidding but feel I need to clarify. Just like that MP!