Hands-on Approach

Ted Hesson

A dispatch from CP Editorial Intern Ted Hesson:

By 9 p.m. Thursday, when students from the Mathematics, Civics and Sciences Charter School finished feeding and clothing homeless outside of Love Park, most of the lights were already out across the street at City Hall. Actually, the majority of the lights were out in the surrounding office buildings as well.

Most people were home.

Every Thursday for nearly two years, students, parents and staff from the charter school have brought food, clean underwear and heaps of clothes to waiting homeless at Love Park and the Men’s Shelter at Broad and Ridge. The project is meant to allow students to experience civics firsthand.

A week ago, however, the group was confronted by Loree Jones, the city’s recently appointed managing director/on-air fireworks sort-of-canceller, who said that the students couldn’t feed the homeless outside, according to witnesses.

Some hot words ensued between Jones and the school’s founder and chief administrative officer Veronica Joyner. Jones wanted the group to move their program indoors, to a nearby church, but Joyner said she didn’t want to risk hurting the homeless that depended on the weekly packages. 

“I would think that the city would want to promote a project like this that would teach kids to love and care,” Joyner said.  “I told one of my kids, ‘If Mayor Street had such a program in his school when he was your age, we would not have to feed these homeless because someone would care.’”

Jones left, but the students kept distributing bags filled with turkey sandwiches, apples and Tastycakes. Afterwards, some of the volunteers and the homeless gathered together for a communal prayer.

That’s when the police showed up.

The officers respectfully waited until the prayer was finished, then told the group that they couldn’t hand out food on the sidewalk. According to Joyner, the police said that they were acting on Jones’ behest.

During the week that followed an indignant Joyner contacted lawyers, politicians and local media in an effort to solidify support for her program. (The Inquirer also ran a story about this today.) The school chief is no stranger to publicity: she has an info packet and a 10-minute DVD specifically focusing on the history and goals of the homeless project.  But when Jones visited Joyner at the charter school for a mid-week meeting to discuss the issue, the managing director didn’t stay for the movie.

This Thursday at 7 p.m., kids and parents went through their usual preparations at the school, located at Broad and Buttonwood Streets. They sifted through enormous trash bags filled with clothes, forming piles for pants and shirts. Somehow, the languor of summer vacation eludes the 15 to 20 youths who show up each week, receiving neither pay nor grades for their hard work.

Once everything is loaded onto the school van, they trek to the first stop, the Men’s shelter. Joyner honks the horn of her car to signal their arrival to the gathering homeless.  People instantly start lining up.

The students set up a table and begin handing out bags of food. The school maintenance man, William Jacobs (who is also Joyner’s brother), blasts gospel music from rear of the van and the unfolded back doors look like a pair of welcoming hands. In a 10-minute flurry, the kids hand out bags of food to everyone there, even giving some people second helpings. The clothing, piled high in the back of the van, is for the next stop, Love Park.

Another long line of homeless wait along the sidewalk at the park, with a few reporters mixed in. Three teenage volunteers are there already, hanging out with some of the men in line. The 17- and 18-year-olds arrived early to watch for police with instructions to call Joyner immediately if someone tried to disperse the crowd.

The police don’t show up though, and the handouts continue.

Again, the music starts grooving and the kids and parents get to work. Within minutes, everyone has something to eat. The people in line, however, seem most interested in getting some clean clothes.

“Cleanliness is a confidence thing,” said Greg, who spends his days looking for jobs on Craigslist. “I saw a guy, he said, ‘Man, you don’t look homeless.’”

The operation can seem hectic, with the loud music and some shouting to maintain order, but in the background you can still hear the soothing rush of the Love Park fountain.  Many in the crowd are desperate for a fresh pair of pants or a clean shirt, but when a stooped elderly woman shuffles away with a packet of clean underwear, they clear a path.
The sky is overcast, but it doesn’t rain.  Even if it did, the volunteers would just keep working, donning a poncho provided by the school or just toughing it out.

The homeless appreciate the effort.  Thomas Young, a 52-year-old who had nowhere to stay after his mother died, said that the food helps him focus on more important things.

“It takes a lot of the pressure off you, wondering where you’re going to eat at,” he said.

After the charter school group finishes helping the homeless, they say a prayer and then ask everyone to head out so that they clean up any mess left on the sidewalk.

Just as the van is nearly packed and ready to leave, another two homeless men approach.

“Can I get a shirt?” one asks. “I got stuck in the city on the Fourth, out in the rain.” His T-shirt is stretched around the collar and hanging on his thin frame.

All the clothes have been put back into garbage bags, but one of the volunteers walks around the van and starts rooting through the leftovers.

“Here you go.”
 

This entry was posted on Friday, July 6th, 2007 at 2:23 pm and is filed under News, The CLOG. You can follow any responses to this entry through the