Until All of Us
ARE Home P ro j ect H . O . M . E . wor k s to b re a k the cycle of homelessness in P hil a delphi a b y D rew H ood
He outlines a few manifestations of this sin, from his perspective as someone whose job it is to partner with— not service or manage—the poorest of the poor in Philadelphia. I immediately begin wondering about my own recent acts of dehumanization. When was the last time I changed sidewalks to avoid stepping over a sleeping form on a sidewalk grate? When did I last avert my gaze from a beggar, or pretend to take a call on my cell phone to avoid eye contact or involvement with a homeless person? We’re all guilty, O’Brien assures me, at one time or another. But instead of excusing it (hey, sin happens), Project H.O.M.E. seizes it as a challenge—and an opportunity—to change things. In late 1988, the homeless situation in Philadelphia was dire. Not only were a large number of people chronically homeless, but the number was growing. With winter coming, and the available shelters proving inadequate, something had to be done. In response, two Christian organizations, Bethesda Project and Women of Hope, joined together to seek funding from FEMA to create a seasonal emergency shelter. But Sister Mary Scullion, who had co-founded Women of Hope, wanted to provide more than just shelter. She wanted to offer a solution to homelessness, and her approach to the problem was straightforward—asking people without homes what they most needed and wanted, both immediately and in the long run. What actions would be most effective in
“Dehumanization is a sin,” Will O’Brien tells me as we sit in the back corner of a closing café, the steam long gone from our cups. O’Brien is the special projects coordinator for Project H.O.M.E., an organization that confronts poverty and homelessness in Philadelphia by first confronting the sin of dehumanization.
PRISM 2008
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