Hope in the Dark 2015 - Final Thoughts

5:50 am

I am huddled deep inside my sleeping bag. My throat feels raw, likely from the cold night air combined with the forest fire smoke that has been hanging above us all night. I've been awake (but not up) for awhile, woken by the sounds of voices and just wanting them to shut up so I can sleep some more. There is no noise coming from the box beside me, as the IJB is fast asleep. And then I hear Barb's voice and I know it is time to go.

Hope in the Dark is over for another year.

I fling back the top of my sleeping bag and realize the field around us is deserted and we are, it seems, the last ones still asleep. I shake the box and a muffled angry voice tells me to go away. I tell the voice that I will pack up my things and return for her, allowing her a few more moments of sleep as 5:50 in the morning is not a time teenagers like to be awake, unless they are still up from the night before.

I pack up, trudge up the hill to the car and then come back for her, the last person standing (or sleeping as it is) at Hope in the Dark 2015. She reluctantly slithers out of her warm den and puts on her boots, We break down her box and pack up the car, and then we head home.

Home. A word that is loaded with meaning and emotion, a word that for four years now has come to mean even more after a night sleeping in a park.

11:00 am

I've managed a small nap and I'm at a store picking up a few things. I tell the clerk I spent the night in a park and explain why, and they look at me and say: "Well, some of them choose to be homeless you know." I look at them and after four years of a night of cold and dark and learning I simply say: "No. They don't."

It is a nice lie we tell ourselves, you see. I don't believe a single person in this world grows up with the ambition to be homeless. I don't think anyone says: "Hey, I think I'll be homeless today." It happens to us through situation and circumstance, and on occasion perhaps those who are experiencing homelessness choose to stay there not because they don't want a home but because the experience has so changed them that they know it will be a fight to adapt to a different life in a home again. Some have tried to get off the streets and failed because they have become accustomed to a life on the streets and they know they will struggle to leave it because it is a life they know and understand.

And I know this because after four years of Hope in the Dark I realized that this year I was used to the experience, as was the IJB. We could have slept in that park all day, long after the others had left. We were okay - not happy perhaps, but we had adapted to a life in the rough. We understood the rhythm and the routine, and we were prepared.

It is convenient to tell ourselves that others choose to be homeless. You see of we can put that choice on them then it eliminates our responsibility and culpability. Suddenly we have no blame and no role to play because "they" have chosen it. It is a comforting lie, as so many lies are - but it is still a lie.

Every night in our community about 50 people sleep rough on our streets. Over the past ten years sixty of them have died. Don't you dare lie to yourself that they chose to live and die on our streets, because they didn't. While that lie makes it easier for us to sleep at night in our cozy homes it does nothing for them, and it does nothing to create the hope they need to survive - and eventually help them to turn hope into home.

To the Centre of Hope: thank you for taking me and my daughter on a journey of learning and understanding. I think it is vital for you to know that not only do you provide hope and change the lives of those experiencing homelessness you have changed our lives, too, and shown us the meaning of both hope and home. 

To my fellow Hope in the Dark participants: thank you for being there and giving up your bed for a night to learn and understand, and for fighting the lies we tell ourselves together.

And to my daughter, the IJB: thank you for being the last one standing at Hope in the Dark and for being the kind of person I am not only proud to have given birth to but honoured to know. You are the reason I think our world has every right to have hope - even in the dark.

Hope in the Dark Live Blog - Part Four

1:30 am

It is quiet now, almost everyone settled into their sleeping bags. I can hear voices here and there, scattered and indistinguishable in the wind. Someone close to our bags is snoring. Some others are talking too loud in my opinion, the lights on their phones too bright. I am already irritable it seems, starting to get cold and cranky.

The moon, affected by the wildfire raging far too close to Saprae Creek, has gone blood red. It is a startling sight.

Earlier a friend dropped off hot chocolate and coffee, much needed as the night turned darker. The IJB and I have talked a lot tonight, perhaps even more than we usually do at home. Separated from the distractions of life like computers and cats, laundry and dishes, we are forced to rely on each other. We are a good team. Strong. Resilient. And occasionally goofy, tossing pillows at each other and laughing.

But that was earlier. Now we are trying to sleep, although the rustling noises from her box tells me the IJB is still working on her homework.  The damp is beginning to set in, the cold starting to make itself known. The reality is she and I are sleeping outdoors in a park, not because we are homeless but because we want to understand what it means to be. We never want to forget how lucky we are. We never want to take our lives for granted. We never want to lose our hope, including the hope we find in each other. Together we want to find hope in the dark.

Hope in the Dark - Live Blog Part Three: Flickering

12:30 am

Just as they do every year when the sky turns dark the people from the Centre of Hope held a candle light vigil to remember the patrons they have lost over their ten years of operation.

Sixty. Six and zero, the candles a stark reminder of sixty lives ended on the streets of our community. The brisk wind threatens to snuff out the candles and I cannot help but see the similarity to the lives snuffed out on our streets every year.

Sixty. An average of six every year over the last ten years, members of the Centre of Hope family gone. It has been, as Barb from Centre of Hope explains through tears, a bad year. They lost too many family members, too many patrons gone.

Lives snuffed out, just like candles that don't stand a chance against the wind.

Hope in the Dark - Live Blog Part Two

11:00 pm

We are already in our sleeping bags (with the IJB in her box). It's cold already - and the mosquitoes are out, buzzing around our heads.

I peek into her box and find her doing her AP math homework by flashlight. I find it strangely upsetting, maybe because I have met young adults like her who are on the streets and who may never finish school.

The folks from Centre of Hope have been around "stealing" from the participants. The IJB and I are wise to this trick and one of us always stays in our camp to keep watch. Reality is when you are homeless you are prone to being the victim of crime - theft, assault, everything and anything. What few possessions you have are fair game for others.

As I put in my nightly eye drops I reflect on how anyone who has my eye condition and is homeless would likely simply end up irreversibly blind. When I was in the hospital for the surgery to fix my corneal perforation the nurses were talking about a fellow patient with the same condition who was "non compliant". It was pretty clear this patient was seeing some rough times - she was my room mate and while she may not have been homeless I suspect her life was difficult. At times my eye disease has meant putting in eye drops every hour and having ones that must be kept in a fridge - how would someone homeless do this? How would they travel to see the specialist I see in Edmonton on a regular basis? How would they be able to follow the treatment plan I will need to follow for a corneal transplant like I will soon receive?

Truth is if I was homeless, I would be blind with no likelihood of ever regaining my sight, a chance I only have because I have a home, a job and a support system.

Suddenly I'm terrified. This is going to be a long and troubling night,

Hope in the Dark - Live Blog Part One

9:00 pm:

We have camp almost set up. Speeches are over and thanks to ATCO Gas we had supper. We got the Intrepid Junior Blogger's box set up early and even remembered to bring duct tape. Sadly she also decided she prefers my sleeping bag to her own, so I may need to mug her so I have somewhere to sleep tonight.

Looks like it will go down to 7 degrees tonight, but Phil says it shouldn't rain - not like last year which was miserably cold and wet. So this year the weather should hold out for us - I hope. Not many mosquitoes yet - but I think I already have a black fly bite.

This is the easy part of the night. It's still warm, but breezy, and everyone is still cheerful. From past experience I know this usually doesn't last. Some people leave in the middle of the night. I get that I guess - but people who are truly homeless don't have that option.

Good Bones

I do a lot of editing work in both my professional role and as a freelance writer. People will often send things they have written to me with an almost-apologetic note downplaying their writing ability or suggesting it is just not very good. The reality is that often all it needs is a bit of clean up and some enhancement, as what they have written usually has what I call “good bones”. It has the right information and content, and a good foundation…and lately this is what I think a great deal about when I drive around my community.

We have good bones in Fort McMurray. Our riverfront area downtown is this incredible gem, the kind of property most cities would die to have as it is a natural and unique focal point. Our surrounding boreal forest is amazing at this time of year, green and lush and beautiful in every respect. We have outstanding facilities, like those at MacDonald Island Park where I am so fortunate to be employed and the Syncrude Health and Wellness Centre at Keyano, the two serving as anchor points along our long downtown corridor. Most of all we have phenomenal vibrancy and energy in this region, most of it found in our most precious resource: our people.

What we need is just some cleaning up and enhancement, I think as I drive around. The ever-present graffiti mars far too many surfaces. Despite the demolition of the doomed condominiums at Penhorwood there are far too many desolate and vacant buildings. There are areas where a deeply troubling dispirited feeling have set in, places for which there were once grand plans but which now sit quietly and in anticipation, waiting for something – anything – to happen. Willow Square is just one of those spots, a place where great hopes and dreams now sit idle and where weeds and dust gather now instead.

I do not pretend I have the solutions to what we need to do or the path forward on this. I know that when I drive visitors around the community in recent months I have felt far more defensive than normal, feeling as if I have to explain the vacant lots, empty buildings and graffiti. Some from otuside choose to interpret these as signs of some sort of downfall of my community, a harbinger of things to come as the price of oil dwindles and an economy based on it falters – but I do not see that. I still see a community in transition.

We have come a long way since I arrived here almost fourteen years ago. I still see the community as it was then, smaller and still prone to the cycles of boom and bust, but no less robust or resilient. Many things have already changed significantly in my time here and I have no doubt things will continue to change – hopefully always for the better, seeing new growth and new opportunities come to our community.

I know one thing for sure, though. We have good bones, Fort McMurray. All that remains to be seen is how we edit our masterpiece.

Deep in the Heart of Wood Buffalo

It wasn't because I had oodles of free time, as anyone who knows me knows I am busier now than I have ever been. The challenges of being a single parent, holding a full-time and fulfilling professional role, working as a freelance writer and the daily tasks of life are really enough to keep me quite occupied - and yet in 2014 I decided I would get just a bit more involved in my community, and I applied to join the committees and boards of two local organizations.

The Communities in Bloom Committee was one that had caught my interest some time ago, as it is about so much more than "pretty flowers" and instead about the concepts of environmentalism, sustainability and neighbourhood cleanliness as well as encouraging horticultural pursuits. Joining the committee is my opportunity to not only learn more about what the organization does but to help them achieve their goals. The second organization I joined was the Board of Directors of the Wood Buffalo Food Bank, a group that has been close to me since this blog began and that is likely where I truly began to understand the nature of social profit organizations and their fundamental value in our community.

I thought a great deal about my journey of learning about social profit organizations when I attended the Heart of Wood Buffalo Leadership Awards this week. I was honoured to present an award as part of my role on the board at the Food Bank, but even more so I was honoured to be in the company of the many people who work tirelessly in our social profit sector.

There were apparently dozens of nominees for the awards, narrowed down to a select group of nominees in each of the six categories and then finally, as announced on that night, the winner - but the reality is that while some won an award that evening and were recognized for their hard work I think we should take the opportunity every day to acknowledge the work of those who volunteer for boards and committees, those who work directly in and for our social profit groups, the businesses and companies who commit their resources and employees to social profit causes and those who spend their precious free time volunteering.

The busiest people I know are volunteers, you see. They don't do it because they have tons of free time or because they have nothing else to do - often they are going flat out in their jobs and lives but they volunteer because they know it makes a difference, both to others and themselves. The people I know who work in social profit organizations don't do so for the pay cheque, which is often far less than what they could earn in similar positions in industry; they do so because they believe in their cause, their organization and the need of the community. The businesses and companies who donate their time or money to social profit organizations do so because they know the organizations improve the quality of life for those in the community where they operate their business. Those who serve on boards and committees give of their time to provide support to the organizations because they know they can offer their collective skills to help make the organizations even stronger.

It was a bit remarkable for me on Thursday evening to realize I knew or at the very least recognized almost every single person who filtered into the Suncor Energy Centre for the Performing Arts at Holy Trinity. These individuals, who serve on boards or work in our community social profit organizations, who work for the companies that support them and who volunteer every time the call to action is heard, have become part of my life over the past 4 years as I have developed more and more respect and admiration for each of them. I have come to realize that they serve as the backbone of our community, and they are the organizations and people who are there both when times are good and when times are challenging. And in the end I suppose that is why I decided to use some of the little free time I have to serve two such organizations, because I wanted the chance to be among that group.

I extend my congratulations to all the nominees and winners at the Heart of Wood Buffalo Leadership Awards this year - but more than that I extend my sincere gratitude to them and all our local social profit organizations, volunteers, boards and committees and supportive partners in industry and business. It is a genuine honour to not only know you, but to stand among you at events like this and know I am with the heart of our community and with those who give so much of themselves simply to make the world a better place for others. You are truly the Heart of Wood Buffalo.