Walsh: Homeless youth tell bleak tales
Article Last Updated: 12/27/2007 01:40:28 AM MST
Reading the essays of homeless teenagers is a bit like sitting down with a Dickens novel.
Bleak.
There are poems about fictitious fatal car accidents, sketches of mug shots, talk of sex and drug addiction and abuse and suicide. Misspellings and garbled grammar are common - there are more important things to worry about. The nihilism and depression of surviving on the streets hangs over every word. But self-reflection and hope also worm their way in.
I got a glimpse of harsh reality this month as a judge of Volunteers of America Utah's homeless youth essay contest.
"They often are pretty invisible," says Zach Bale, manager of VOA's teen drop-in center at 655 S. State St. "We wanted to give homeless youth a voice."
One boy writes of learning to panhandle:
"I couldn't understand why absolute strangers would get so mad at me for asking for help," he said. "I was able to make enough to get by for a day. But the next day would be the same thing."
Another explained the Catch-22 for a young homeless man - no birth certificate and no driver license equals no job, which leads to homelessness.
"Why is it that a 14-year-old girl feels safer out on the streets instead of at home in bed?" asked Tayeah, a 20-year-old homeless woman and one of the contest winners. "Why is it that she has started using drugs or having sex and stealing instead of being in school with kids who could have a positive influence on her?"
Volunteers of America figure they see 20 to 40 homeless teens a day, about 500 different teens a year, at the drop-in center. An informal poll last year found most have been abused physically or sexually - at home or on the streets. Most have come out of the foster care system - "aging out" at 18 or running away. Some are the older children of homeless parents who can't take care of them anymore.
"Most have a fractured support network from day one," says Bale. "It's a survival skill to be invisible. But it can be a bad thing, too. Because as a community, we see homeless youth who we don't recognize as homeless."
At the drop-in center, the kids, young adults - and in some cases, their toddlers - can do laundry, take a shower, sleep after being up all night and meet with case workers. VOA serves lunch and dinner and three snacks. But at 7 p.m., the center closes and the kids go back out on to the street, to shelters or to friends' couches. Limited funding keeps the center closed on weekends.
Most of the young writers want out of the cycle.
"People who run away are not always bad," one girl wrote. "People run away mainly because they're sad. Some people run away because they want to get out. But sooner or later, they find out it's not always the best thing."
Drop-in center social workers will help track down identification and line up jobs and subsidized housing when a kid is ready.
"The best advice I can give to a runaway is to try to talk to a teacher or an adult you trust to try to find a better way to solve a problem," wrote Tayeah, "instead of running away and causing what could be a permanent problem for a temporary situation."
The winning essays will be published in "Zine," a magazine printed by the Salt Lake City Library for VOA. Tayeah and another winner will receive $10 or $15 gift certificates to Smith's stores.
"Maybe their story in a few years will sound much different," says Michelle Templin, VOA communications manager.
The butterflies and leaves sketched on two of the essays make me want to believe her.
walsh@sltrib.co