Our friend David J. Neff of Austin-based Lights.Camera.Help. has contributed this guest post about an exciting new campaign around online gaming for social good:  

At Lights. Camera. Help. We talk a lot about the power of documentary film and video for making measurable, on the ground impact — which is exactly what a new project from Chicago-based Kindling Group is doing for the issue of homelessness. It’s a transmedia campaign called @home, and it’s using documentary film, social media, and a smartphone “game for change” to educate and inspire action community by community.

I recently took an amazing course on Gamification from the Wharton School. As part of that I learned a lot about transmedia and gamification. I’m seeing more and more transmedia projects exploring issues from a multitude of angles, but the addition of @home’s mobile app — which you can play tailored to your own city — is particularly exciting. As you follow the game’s neighborhood map, you watch video interviews with homeless individuals, and by solve location-based puzzles (like deciding whether a person qualifies for supportive housing). And, as you progress through the game, you’ll raise funds for real home move-in kits for homeless individuals in your community.

The @home team created a prototype of the game at POV’s Hackathon last month, and produced a video documenting the experience. Watch to see a walkthrough of this innovative smartphone game:

And support this project’s current crowdfunding campaign here.

Tags: David J. Neff, Gamification, home, Lights Camera Help, video

This is a guest post from Amanda Edwards of Gray Gaia.

He was a man from a large family. Twelve or so siblings to be exact. With a history dating back to the 1600s when his first ancestors came to America. He married, had six children and became a hero with a Purple Heart for his efforts at the Battle of the Bulge during World War II.

He and his first wife divorced. She, never letting him see his children anymore due to problems between them. But he found happiness in a second marriage. For a time. Then he became homeless. Wandering the city streets of America. The children of the first marriage never knew his whereabouts. Until one day in the paper there was a small article on a back page that said this man was crushed but survived in a dumpster. He was sleeping in the garbage when the garbage truck did their weekly pick up in Arizona. That was the only information that they heard about him for years to come. One of the children made contact when she was 16 years old. Her father and her sent letters back and forth for close to a year. He was at that time in a hospital in Arizona. But soon he would be released back onto the streets.

The last time this man was heard of was in the late 1980s when each of the adult children received a letter from the Veteran’s of Foreign War. The letter implied that since this man had not been heard of nor had collected his monthly benefit check for some time it was assumed he was deceased and the agency gave each adult child a monetary compensation.

This man. This homeless and lost man left a legacy of children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren that would never know that this homeless man set their lives in place. Every one of them making a future for themselves, everyone being a success in America. None becoming homeless.

And yet, the one daughter who wrote those letters to her father and now keeps them safely stored away remembers her father with love and affection. And feels a special connection to the homeless because it has affected her personally. There was no reason this man–this father, an American hero–should  have died homeless. But he did. Homelessness touches us all.

This is a story of one homeless man. Every homeless person on the streets of America has a similar stories. And their families do too. The only comfort his daughter gets from knowing her father was homeless is seeing the tremendous work that is done for other homeless people by organizations like Mobile Loaves & Fishes.

Below is a picture of the man of speak of. It was 1944, he was preparing to ship out to England. His unit would walk across Belgium until they reached Bastogne. Just a simple man doing a tremendous job. He may be gone but not forgotten.

If you are interested in sharing your story of homelessness, please email me at amanda@mlf.org.

Alan Graham received this beautiful, expressive letter from a friend who agreed to let us share it without sharing her identity.  Prayers and love to this sister from all of us at Mobile Loaves & Fishes.

Alan,

You and I have emailed a few times over the years and I truly admire the work you’re doing with MLF. There’s a reason for my email but I should give you a little backstory first. I ask that you please keep all of this confidential as it’s extremely personal. I went through a very dark period recently and actually tried to commit suicide by CO poisoning (it obviously didn’t work) and instead I ended up with a 3rd degree arm burn and smoke inhalation.

I have since come to realize that that kind of darkness is temporary but blinding. I decided that there’s obviously a reason I’m still here and that I needed to recommit my life to Christ and to being a better person in order to find the happiness in my life that’s been lost. I also decided that I needed a change of scenery and to really change up my life to get better, including leaving Austin next week to move closer to my family in the DFW area.

I’ve done a lot of crying and praying since my suicide attempt and I’ve come to realize that for the first time in my life, I need to truly trust Him and learn to follow instead or me trying to do the leading. Since making that decision, I’ve seen doors open up and there have been a couple of times when God found a way to deliver a much needed message to me when I desperately needed it. I had the questions/doubts in my head/heart but hadn’t voiced them out loud and apparently I didn’t have to. He answered me anyway and it touched me in a way that I could never explain.

As part of my suicide preparation, I completed my will and in it, I left my  wedding ring set to you so that you could sell it and donate the money to MLF (I’m divorced). I’m still here, but I want to go ahead and donate my wedding ring set to you anyway. You’re doing great work with MLF and I’d like to help in some small way. I don’t need the ring set and I think the money is best served in your hands where I know you’ll put it to good use.  I know I’m going to be ok and that I’m strong enough to fight the depression that has consumed my life for too long. I’m making big changes in my life and am looking forward to my new adventure. I’ll miss Austin but I truly feel that I’m being led to move closer to home and I’ve decided to listen.

So…the net of this very long and personal email is this:  I had intended to donate my wedding ring set to you and MLF after my death but instead, I’d like to donate them to you at the beginning of my new life. I do hope you’ll allow me the honor of helping in the work you’re doing. (I’ve also collected a bag full of hotel shampoo, conditioner, soap, etc.. that I thought you could give to anyone that needs it.) If you’re willing to accept my ring set, please let me know the best address to send them to you. I know I’m far too emotional right now and would be embarrassed to face you in person after telling you all of this so that’s the reason for mailing them. Thanks for taking the time to read this and again, please keep all of this confidential. Keep up the great work that you’re doing and know that you’re making a difference in peoples lives.

“My name is Anthony. I was born, raised and educated in a little town in Louisiana called Natchitoches. My dad was a construction worker and a gambler. He and my mom separated when I was just a kid. My mom worked hard to make ends meet for my brothers and sisters. She even did men’s work sometimes.

After high school I enrolled in college. I attended Southern University then Louisiana State University in Shreveport. I majored in Electrical Engineering for a long time, but switched to Business Management just before my senior year.

I didn’t graduate. I found a good job, then lost it while I was still in school. About this time I found myself in a downspin. I wound up in prison after I did not finish a deferred probation that was unfairly adjudicated. I stayed for two years.

Later, while in prison for another charge, I finished my college degree–graduating from Tarleton College in Stephenville, Texas. The Texas Department of Criminal Justice has a program for inmates who want to take college courses. I took advantage of that.

Following prison the second time, I went to Waco, Texas. While there I learned I was not prepared to adequately cope with life. So I moved to Austin, hoping I’d do better there.

Last year I got hit by a car, injuring both legs, my right shoulder, my neck, and my back. I had some bleeding on the brain. The Medical Assistance Program (MAP) covered my medical expenses. I am still recovering, or trying to.

Being homeless is not easy. It’s a hard way to live. Things don’t get better; it’s a constant struggle just getting along from day to day, living on practically nothing except the kindness of strangers; trying to stay warm in the winter and cool in the hot summers; finding a place to sleep; just having enough to eat. So it’s understandable that homeless people are severely depressed and have just given up on life. I was one of them.

But recently, my fortunes changed. I met Steven Hebbard outside a coffee house near Riverside and Congress in Austin. Steven told me about Mobile Loaves and Fishes, explaining that I could make some money, if I wanted, by working with other volunteers—homeless and otherwise—in Mobile Loaves and Fishes’ Genesis Gardens.

I’ve been working in the Mobile Loaves and Fishes Genesis Gardens Program for awhile now. I like it. The food we grow helps feed Austin’s homeless people. I get paid a small stipend for my work, more for working double shifts. That’s money for food and other essentials. There’s no shelter for me yet, but Steven said there is a future project, a village for the homeless, that might offer that. Right now I stay at the Austin Resource Center for the Homeless (ARCH), a homeless shelter in Austin.

I am trying to get out of being a homeless person. I want to show up, and not be absent any longer. It’s hard to do. But my work with Mobile Loaves and Fishes is getting me closer to where I’d like to be. Mobile Loaves and Fishes has been the ship for me, like the ship that carried George Washington to victory in the Revolutionary War.

While the work at Mobile Loaves and Fishes helps me feed my body, it also feeds my self esteem. It’s not just the physical work. I feel free to express my ideas for bettering the gardens I work in, making them even more productive food sources for Austin’s homeless population. That feeds my creativity. And in spite of being homeless for so long, I still care about people. At Mobile Loaves and Fishes I get to work with others in my same situation, talk with them. Maybe, over time, we’ll find ways to help one another. In the meantime, it’s mutually supportive to be working side by side with them to help others like ourselves.

I believe that Mobile Loaves and Fishes provides the synergy to help not only homeless people, but also the community at large.”

Click on the leaf heart to support Anthony and other folks transitioning from a life on the streets.

Tags: Genesis Gardens, Homeless, transitioning homeless, work program for homeless, working homeless

Most of my life I lived on the edge, outside the boundaries of society.  Addiction to crack cocaine and and alcohol, paired with homelessness, was  a cocktail for destruction.  For many years I doubted the existence of God due to the poor quality of my life.  I’d often wondered if there was a God, and why he would put me through such an unimaginable existence.  At that point I wasn’t living–merely existing.  I dwelled among the forgotten and discarded in our society, the junkies, prostitutes and thieves.  I fit in, I wasn’t judged, I felt accepted, painfully aware that this lifestyle suited me and was what I was destined for.

Being homeless, finding a safe place to sleep was always a challenge.  Looking back I see that I was surrounded by God’s protection.  I found myself more often than not, sleeping on the grounds of one of the houses of the One I doubted.  I felt safe.  But still unwilling to accept God, my struggles continued for years, until I was broken.

Tired, withered, and wounded, I decided I needed change.  My life without God was empty.  I accepted God into my life not knowing what that meant, but I knew my attempts were from the heart.  Immediately, immovable obstacles miraculously faded.  I had to trust God and I let go completely.  I would be safe in the arms of the Lord.  The more I loosened my grip on the wheel, the more his undeniable love and grace for me was apparent.

Now in my two years of sobriety, God’s call for me has become clearer.  He whispers softly to me his adoration for me, and for my determination to do His will.  He gifted me with a place to call home, a loving family, and a beautiful daughter.

Thank you God for your precious blessings and patience.  You taught me to accept the unacceptable, to bear the unbearable, and to love the unlovable.  Through my troubled times, I found an inner peace, and love I’ve been searching for my entire life.

“Trust in the lord with all your heart, and do not depend on your own understanding.  Seek his will in all you do, and he will show you which path to take.” – Proverbs 3:5-6

I think that socks are essentially lonely and singular beings, forced by fate to be identified as useful only in pairs; hence their propensity to become separated, lost, discarded or used singularly and ruthlessly as rags without any sense of remorse…

As I kid, my mom often confronted me with holes in the toes of my socks resulting from my failure to cut my toenails.  My dad got inexplicably angry when I routinely wore shoes without my socks, randomly referring to the inevitable damage that would result to the shoes, my feet, and/or his reputation.

I remember pulling up the high tops of the socks distributed with my football, baseball and basketball uniforms, proudly displaying the team colors in bold stripes; my dismay when I washed them with colors and the white turned pink.

Random thoughts and memories about socks…

When I began handing out food and clothes to homeless people, I was quite surprised to learn how important socks can be.  Of course, you might say that almost everything is important to those who have so little.  Nevertheless, I could not help but be impressed about the repetition and earnestness of the requests for socks.  They inevitably asked for socks when we were passing out sandwiches from a Mobile Loaves and Fishes Truck.  They ask for socks before jeans and underwear at Austin Baptist Chapel.

I talked to one of the men about it one time.  He had just finished walking/hitchhiking from Florida to Austin over several weeks.  The excitement in his eyes was unmistakable when I handed him two pair of new, white cotton crew socks.  He said he had left his last pair of socks hanging, wet and completely worn out, on a bridge somewhere in Louisiana. He told me that those socks were the very best thing that anyone could do for him at that moment. I believed him.

I like giving out socks because it is an utterly unambiguous act of kindness.  There is no aftermarket to trade in socks for drugs or liquor.  There is no alternative and antisocial use.  Of course, you don’t generally change a person’s history, values, purpose or life  just with a pair or two of socks.  You can make them feel a little more comfortable on the journey.  That’s good enough for me.

You can give socks. You’ve probably got spares right there in your sock drawer.  You can also give money for us to buy socks. We get a good price for volume purchases.  You can even give a little time and come help us pass them out.  Like me, you might get a better appreciation for socks and a good feeling about helping a fellow person out a little bit.

One of our staff members, Amy Flanigan, wrote and shared this account at her church last Thanksgiving.  She’s given us permission to reprint it here:

I am fortunate enough to work at Mobile Loaves and Fishes, a local nonprofit that provide services for the homeless in Austin and I have a friend who would often visit me at work. My friend is a very colorful, brilliant, and beautiful gentleman who is homeless and lives in a camp in one of the wooded areas around here. I, like many others, was intimidated when I first met him because I lived in a nice bubble and had never had the honor of being introduced to someone like him. He likes organic coffee, Crosby Stills and Nash, and practices his right to free speech by adorning himself in feathers and a leather headband (because he feels that he can relate to the plight of the Native American) and going downtown to say what he needs to say or just blurting it out in random coffee shops around town leading him to be promptly removed from those same coffee shops by the police. I would see him usually at the end of the month when his disability money ran out and he needed food. We would give him a big bag of all of his favorites and he would sit and eat while he and I listened to classic rock and talked about history, art, politics or any other random topic.

This past July, during one of his more festive times, he came to my office dressed too inappropriately for our office environment. We had to ask that he leave only because there is a childcare area where we are housed and we were afraid that he would be seen by someone who does not understand him as we do and, although we said that he was welcome to return once he changed, he took it very hard. I know that he saw us as the one place that wouldn’t judge him for his mania and loved him unconditionally. He did not return.

Last Sunday, I attended a sunrise memorial service at Auditorium Shores, as one of the weekend kickoff events for the National Hunger and Homelessness Week, at the homeless memorial tree. For those who don’t know about it, the tree stands between the white gazebo and the Stevie Ray statue and has a tiny plaque on the ground in front of it. During this service, they read off a list of names: 168 people, including 1 baby, who died just this year on the streets of our own hometown. As they read the names, those of us who were in the crowd posted an origami bird with each person’s name on it on the tree in memory of our fallen brothers and sisters. I did not know one person on that list, yet I was so deeply saddened and troubled when I left that my heavy heart stayed at that tree for several days. Not only was I questioning how we, as a community, a society, a nation, could allow people to die so destitute, without food, shelter or dignity, but my heart was in pieces because of my friend. We hadn’t seen him in months. What if something happened to him? Would we know? Would he be on that list next year? I prayed for him, along with all the other people who were on that list who I did not know but whose stories probably mirrored my friend’s: people who were of every creed, race, mental status and sexual orientation; people who were hungry and homeless, and it doesn’t matter what they did to be in their situation, and left to survive the elements of this world on their own; people who rely on the kindness and love of strangers to assist them with the most basic of human needs.

This past Tuesday was my office Thanksgiving lunch in our conference room. I remember that I had had a dream about my friend the evening before, probably because all of my fears about him had been brought to the surface after the memorial service. When I returned to my desk to fill my water bottle during lunch, I witnessed something that I cannot explain. Sitting on his usual chair was my friend. He looked to be ok, although the summer months seemed to have worn on him. I asked him how he was and he asked me to crank up the music.

I do feel better now that I have seen him, but I am still holding on to the memory of all the faceless names who are gone without any explanation yet will be forever in my heart in the shape of origami birds waving in the wind above the following words:

Homelessness
It is the essence of Depression
It is Immoral
It is Socially Corrupt
And it is an
Act Of Violence…
In Memory to those who have
lost their lives on the streets of Austin, Texas

Tags: Amy Flanigan, Friendship, Homeless, Homelessness, Thanksgiving

Richard Troxell is the President and Founder of House the Homeless in Austin, Texas. First and foremost he is an advocate for the rights and dignity of the homeless.  Today as this blog posts the Health and Human Services Committee of the City of Austin is debating whether to amend the no sit/no lying down ordinance to exclude people with verifiable known disabilities.  Incredulously there is a lot of opposition.  Here is Richard’s point of view.  We would welcome other points of view and would gladly post.  Needless to say I support Richard’s efforts to amend the ordinance.

Between 2008 and 2010, House the Homeless (HTH) conducted several surveys and gathered others conducted by both the City of Austin and the City of Houston that demonstrated that a majority of people experiencing homelessness want to work. To that end, we have been collaborating with Mobile Loaves and Fishes in our “Let’s Get to Work” Jobs Initiative.   A more recent survey conducted in 2010 by House the Homeless shows that 48%, or about half of those experiencing homelessness, are suffering debilitating health problems that are so severe that they are rendered incapable of working.

472 of the 501 people surveyed in this most recent survey felt that they periodically needed to sit down and rest from time to time, but 94% said they were unable to do so as they could not find a bench.  Compounding the situation, there exists a “Quality of Life” ordinance in Austin that prevents people from sitting or lying down making them subject to fines of up to $500.  This ordinance contains only one medical exception and that’s for people already sitting in a wheel chair.  There aren’t even exceptions for people on crutches or using orthopedic leg braces.   With health concerns ranging from Degenerative Heart Disease to Parkinson’s Disease to Degenerative Rheumatoid Arthritis, half of the homeless population is in need of exceptions to the ordinance.

We are now promoting 19 possible exceptions that range from Disability Award letters from the Social Security Administration or the Veterans Administration to participant letters in the David Powell-AIDS Program to people standing in line at a health clinic and so on. Two city-wide stakeholder meetings resulted in two additional recommended exemptions: evidence of taking psychiatric medications or when the heat index hits 100 degrees or more.

House the Homeless has met with all members of City Council and received  favorable support.  We pointed out that if exceptions are granted (as they should be) then people will be sitting down all over the city.  We do not feel that people suffering disabilities should be sitting on the sidewalks etc. House the Homeless took 350 signatures of people requesting benches to the Mayor.  We think that as we encourage people to be more “Green” and to leave their automobiles to create a “world class city” we should provide an ample number of benches to accommodate all citizens. This should include pregnant women, people with Christmas packages and those suffering disabilities.  In response, Mayor Lee Leffingwell has directed the City Council Health and Human Services Committee to review the 19 “exemptions” requested by HTH and consider benches as part of the mitigation response.

Some social service providers have been opposed to benches suggesting their use may lead to illegal drug sales.  HTH contends that drugs can be sold in either a sitting or standing position and in any event, this is a question  of enforcement.  The benches that House the Homeless recommends  have center dividers so as to deter lying down.

The “Stakeholders” who attended the two meetings consisted of the Downtown Austin Alliance, The Austin Chamber of Commerce, about 10 uniformed police officers, their attorney, an attorney for Travis County, Downtown Community Court, City Staffers, a representative from the Omni and the Driscoll Hotels, downtown neighbors, representatives from the Austin Resource Center for the Homeless, ARCH and a representative from Caritas.  They were all joined in opposition and led by Charles Betts from the Downtown Austin Alliance.  As a group and to the last person, they opposed any exceptions or any additional benches intended to be a response to this issue.  Really? A doctor working for the United States Government, determines that a person is disabled after a process that often takes up to 15 months to complete its findings is somehow unacceptable to this group? Or finding of a disability of a Military Medical Review Team for a person willing to sacrifice a leg in Afghanistan  is unworthy of either an exception or a bench?

Today, HTH continues to look toward the Americans with Disabilities Act, ADA, as possible legal recourse to provide the health relief associated with this issue.

Finally, City staff members have reported that, “the Ordinance is working.”  Really? For whom?  In reviewing COA No Sit/No Lying Down ord. citations secured under the Open Records Act, the Community Court  showed 2,729 tickets were issued between January 2009 through December 31st 2009. 70 tickets were subsequently dismissed with 708 convictions.  So while the HTH Survey indicated 48% of these folks had major disabilities, only 2.6% were dismissed on the basis of disability through the court.  At the same time, it has been observed by advocates that this ordinance has been used indiscriminately to sweep areas of people regardless of their disabilities.  Using the Community Court as a filtering mechanism in this instance, has proven unduly burdensome on this disabled population and ineffective. It would seem more humane and more cost effective to properly train police officers in an amended ordinance that clearly  states specific exceptions.

While it is recommended that a strict list of exemptions be identified by Council, it is none-the-less the belief of HTH that the best common sense, practical response to the issue in a city seeking to attain world class stature, would be for us to simply  provide an ample supply of benches available to all citizens.

At one point in time, it seemed ok to value other people in this country as 3/5ths of that of other people.  Almost everyone lined up behind that concept…but not everyone.

Richard R. Troxell

President House The Homeless

Author of the soon to be released book on Ending Homelessness:  Looking Up at the Bottom Line

Tags: City of Austin, City of Houston, Homelessness, House the Homeless, Richard Troxell

Anna Faivre is 9 years old and already has a passion for helping the homeless and those in need.  To celebrate her birthday, she wrote her family and friends asking them to help her do something special.  Please read Anna’s letter:

Dear Family & Friends,

I have been talking to my mom & dad for many months about doing something special for my birthday.  I have been very sad, upset, and concerned about the number of homeless I see on the streets of Austin and have wondered how I could help.  I pray about the homeless every day.  My mom helped me research an organization called Mobile Loaves & Fishes, which allows children to volunteer.  (Please see website www.mlf.org ).

I wish to purchase vouchers for food and clothing to be distributed to the homeless in Austin.  I would like to use the money I receive for my birthday to do this.  My question is if you want to send me money, as in the past, or to donate to your homeless shelter/organization instead of sending it to me this is your choice!  Thank you for helping me.  I am very excited.

Love, Anna

On Sat., Nov. 27, 2010 Anna, her mother Judy, her father DeLos, and brother Lorenzo came to the St. John Neumann commissary to meet Alan Graham and Ruth Doré.  Anna presented her gift to MLF.   Her generosity is an inspiration for all.

Tags: charity, children, Ruth Dore

“My grandmother always said it tastes better with a little flesh in it.”

That’s how we started out our sauerkraut-making morning with residents, neighbors, and our ever generous volunteers. We confidently set up cutting board stations and not-so-confidently equipped everyone with large knives.

We chatted and chopped cabbage while Stacey Thompson, founder of Straight from the Vine (www.straightfromthevine.net), and Brenda Walding, long term Genesis Gardens volunteer, patiently showed us how to transform cabbage and salt into what will eventually turn into delicious and nutritious sauerkraut.

Stacey sells her raw cultured organic sauerkraut at the Farmer’s Markets downtown and at the Barton Creek Mall on Saturdays as well as other stores and restaurants around town. She’s been exploring different flavors such as Lemon Garlic Dill and Korean Sauerkraut. See below for a copy of her Sauerkraut making instructions.

When making the customary rounds to invite the community to the event, it created quite a stir! Apparently everyone has a strong opinion about sauerkraut one way or the other. One resident who typically can’t make to community events due to health limitations made sure that someone was coming to pick him up and drive him down the block to the Community Home. He told me that, being from German heritage, his grandmother made sauerkraut every New Years Day in their basement.

We expected to take everyone’s tightly packed jars to watch during the fermentation stage, but several residents and community members insisted on “babysitting” the process themselves. It turned out to be a joyful morning shared stories and expectations as to how our cabbage would transform.

We will be having a cookout on April 28th with Bratwurst and, if fermentation goes the way it’s supposed to (!), our very own pro-biotic toping. This is just one of many ways GG is actively working to get the most nutritional food possible into the hands of our Community First! Residents through community events.

Steps for Making Sauerkraut

1. Pull off outer leaves that are dark green as they tend to be dry. Also, any leaves that are blemished.
2. Core the cabbage and cut into chunks. Slice and cut cabbage to your liking.
3. Salt cabbage and make sure all the pieces are well coated with salt (about 1 tbsp per 2 lbs of cabbage).
4. Let the cabbage sweat for an hour or more. The longer it sits, the more water is extracted from the cabbage. You can always massage the cabbage pieces to get out more water.
5. Pack cabbage into a glass or ceramic container as tightly as possible. Be sure juice is over the top or at least to the level of cabbage. Leave about one inch or air space in jar because as it ferments, the cabbage expands.
6. Place jar in a space that won’t get above 75F. You may want to put a rag underneath the container if it is full as it might leak.
7. Start tasting the kraut after one week until desired taste and then refrigerate.

Jen Ardill

Tags: Genesis Gardens, Jen Ardill, recipe, Sauerkraut