Diamond* is a woman that we met several years ago on the track and have been in relationship with her ever since. On the Friday of Memorial Day Weekend, I met Diamond outside of an organization that coordinates temporary housing.
8:15am-- I arrived to advocate for her so that she could secure housing for her and her 7-month old son. The organization started intake at 9 a.m. and there was already a line of about twelve families before we got there.
The first five families in line finished intake and went to an air-conditioned waiting room. While the staff continued the intake process with people in line, the rest of us were asked to wait outside (in order to comply with L.A. County Covid-19 parameters that restricted the number of people allowed indoors). Everyone in line was especially anxious to get housing because this was their last chance before the three-day weekend. And we received discouraging news from someone in line that one of the largest shelters in L.A. had a Covid-19 outbreak and were not taking any new people this weekend. The pressure to find adequate housing was high.
Within the hour, we realized we were in for the long-haul. We made a quick coffee run and returned to the line. Soon enough, a police officer rolled up in his patrol car. I could feel everyone in line tense up and diligently watch the officer park and get out of his vehicle. It’s no surprise that people of color in search of housing in Compton are weary and anxious around a uniformed officer. As he turned toward our group, one of the women in line yelled, “Oh, he’s cool! He’s a good one!” He walked over to us with a smile and asked if anyone needed groceries. He went back to the trunk and brought back several bags of groceries for the families in line.
11am-- there was a high-speed chase in South LA. We listened to the cry of sirens as the driver sped away just a few blocks from our location. We watched the four helicopters above us. Three of us were watching live news coverage of the chase on our phones, each of us providing our own commentary on the situation at hand. The situation helped us bond with other people in line and distract us from the heaviness of waiting for an hour.
12pm—By the time the temperature reached 90 degrees, there was no more shade for Diamond, me, and the other families waiting on the west-facing sidewalk.
1:58 p.m.-- nearly 6 hours after we had arrived-- Diamond was called to come inside the air-conditioned building. She met with the staff member for less than 15 minutes, clearly explained her situation and why she needed housing that day. The staff member was very confused and almost skeptical of me as to why I was there; but once I explained I was a volunteer with a nonprofit organization that has been helping Diamond as her friend and advocate, he warmed up. But we wouldn’t find out if Diamond would have shelter yet.
2:55pm—The shelter called her again to tell her that they were able to get her 14 nights of hotel vouchers. But since it was almost 3 p.m., they were not sure if it would go through the system ready for tonight. Not only did Diamond not know definitely if she had a bed to sleep in that night, she also knew she was coming back two weeks later to do this all over again.
Why am I telling this story?
This story represents part of the complex and frustrating reality of women who are trying to break free from a life of sexual exploitation and trafficking in Los Angeles. Nothing feels simple because nothing is simple. There are some incredible nonprofits out there, but they are stretched thin because the needs are so great and over-crowding is so common, not to mention the added complications Covid-19 has brought this year.
And so, this is what we do as a ministry in this city. We walk alongside people in these complex systems and difficult situations. Our core values of radical hospitality and forming deep relationships compels us to meet people where they are at and help in any way we can. While I only advocated for Diamond for less than 15 minutes, the other six hours were spent laughing, sharing stories, swapping pictures, and eating food on a sidewalk together. Sometimes the work we do is slow. Sometimes it does not feel very “productive” or “successful”. For us, this is living into this faithful call from Jesus to love in the small acts – standing in line, giving out a gift bag during outreach, remembering her name after briefly meeting her the previous outreach, or listening to hopes and dreams. Mother Teresa said, “Not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love.” It is in these small things that we experience the love of Christ.
Written by: Kali Spicer, Executive Director
Photo by: Eric Ward (Diamond not pictured)
[Editor’s Notes: 1) Had Diamond been turned away by this facility, she would’ve likely had to start the process over the next day and wait in line all over again without any guarantee of housing, and 2) Before Kali was Executive Director of After Hours Ministry, she was a regular volunteer on our Street Outreach and After Care teams. This is one of her After Care experiences.]
*Diamond’s name has been changed to protect her identity.