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The Perspective of Another: A Reflection from Danielle Stinson

Occasionally we enjoy the opportunity of hosting a student at The Dale. This year we were joined by Danielle Stinson, a woman working on her Bachelor of Social Work through the University of Victoria. Danielle was required to do a placement and chose us for it, a choice we were happy she made. It is hard to believe that Danielle’s placement has already come to an end. Danielle, thank you for your presence at The Dale, for sharing your inquisitive mind, your deep compassion and obvious heart for people. We will miss you.

Critical reflection is an important part of learning, and so we decided that Danielle would write a blog about her experience that I would share here. This is a generous piece.

This has been a difficult post to sit down and write. I think I was avoiding having to actually recognize that I have to leave soon and won’t be around as often or for a while at least. But here it is! 

From my first week back in January when I started at The Dale, I felt welcomed to share in my brokenness and my true self. I have a hard time fitting in with traditional church settings without causing a stir, but The Dale has been a place of refuge and comfort that has welcomed my opinion. There is a ‘genuineness’ to this place that is so attractive, beautiful, and honest. I’ve been caught off guard by the generosity and thoughtfulness of so many people in one place!

Thank you for the birthday cake and for those in the community who shared art and music on Wednesday mornings and during the rest of the week, it brings life to this place. Being a part of Tuesday night prayer was special to me and I learnt so much from those who share stories and that question and investigating scripture together. Chopping vegetables on Mondays has been deeply therapeutic and helped prepare me for the week. I’m also grateful to Erinn and Joanna for their commitment to being present and praying together for the community and for each other, it has been an honour to join you.

One of the (many) things I have learnt from this community has been the importance and freedom of interdependence. We contribute in different ways and we need each other equally. There is a kindness and a peace to this community that is marked by love for one another and a commitment to live as Christ did.

Moving is both exciting and frustrating. I’m looking forward to meeting new people but I really can’t see how it can be better than this, experiencing life together and being in community.

Praying and thinking of you lovely bunch,

Danielle

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Posted on by erinnoxford

Reawakened to the Resurrection

“I think I need to draw a picture about why Easter makes me sad”. Though she said it quietly, I heard it clearly. I probed a little and realized that her story is grievously not unique. Easter, like Christmas, reminds those who are displaced or estranged from the ones they love, how alone they really are.

I sometimes find the Easter season particularly challenging to navigate at The Dale because of this. Lent, the period of preparation for Easter tends to be solemn and is often when people “give things up”- not uncommonly things like coffee and chocolate. But how do you suggest giving something like that up when surrounded by people just looking for their next meal? Please hear me: I am not suggesting letting something go isn’t a good idea (in the past I too have given up chocolate). When done as intended: to direct our attention back to God, it is an incredible and good tool. I’m just acknowledging that this is one of the ways it gets complicated.

God of course moves despite what bogs me down. I shouldn’t be surprised.

We gathered with two other communities on Maundy Thursday (the day before Good Friday) to commemorate the last supper of Christ and wash one another’s feet or hands. We started the evening with a potluck that a large number of Dale folks contributed to, whether it was a huge vat of pasta or a box of Digestive Cookies from the dollar store. The evening felt set apart and holy.

On Easter Sunday we spoke of the resurrection of Jesus and what difference it makes in our lives. So many people shared of their gratitude to simply be alive. We talked about looking up at the sky and being struck by how BIG it is. People challenged one another to see the gifts that God has put in their lives, even when by the world’s standards those gifts seem meagre. I shared my sorrow over certain situations in my life and how while I’d love for them to be different, I also recognize God being present in them. We spoke and sang about the hope that we now have because of Easter.

We are slowly and carefully being transformed. One of us used to refuse even shaking another’s hand during our weekly ‘passing of the peace’, today hugs are given. One of us used to spend every day alone in a small rooming house apartment, today every moment possible is spent with a community. One of us continues to struggle with paranoia but considers it safe with The Dale. One of us drew a picture of Easter with such sadness, but is replacing it with a picture of hope. We are being reawakened to the resurrection.

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Celebrating The Dale’s Own ‘Force of Nature’

It was almost six years ago that I was introduced to the one who I now affectionately describe as a “force of nature”- Souad Sharabani. At the time we needed someone to help direct the kitchen at our Monday Drop-In and Souad was willing. Since then she has transformed the way we cook, convinced our community to “eat their vegetables” and become a very good friend.

Souad was born in the Middle East, has lived and travelled all over the world and now speaks five languages. When Souad is not at The Dale she is an independent radio-documentary producer who explores politics and social/cultural trends, a blogger and more recently a published cook book author (check out Scents of Memory). Souad adores her family and shares pictures and stories of them whenever she can. Her cooking is largely influenced by her travels, rich in flavour and extremely healthy. In fact, her food is so full of herbs and spices that we have dramatically cut down on everyone’s salt intake in the drop-in because the food just doesn’t need it.

When things got bleak at PNC (now The Dale) Souad remained present. I remember dreaming together about how to make things work beyond our impending homelessness. We found an alternate location for the Monday meal and Souad adjusted to cooking in a much smaller space, one where we learned to use glorified hot plates to prepare food for more people than we ever had to in our former industrial kitchen. The group of community volunteers has become a real team under Souad’s leadership. She quietly and consistently works to show them her appreciation, constantly recognizing that it is collectively their kitchen.

Souad has always been straight up with me, something I appreciate. I know when she is mad, concerned or pleased. She has endlessly listened to me. We have enjoyed homemade bread and tea at her kitchen table, walks with her beloved dogs and many a coffee with LOTS of milk.

When Souad isn’t in the kitchen, we all miss hearing her call us either ‘Angels’ or ‘Munchkins’, her colourful language and the way she dances to Motown blaring on the stereo. When Souad is in a room you can’t help but notice her dynamic presence. Six years in, we are incredibly grateful for that presence. Souad, thank you for everything: your fierce loyalty to The Dale, your friendship, your food and all the love that you show through it. Here’s to many more years.

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Working to Rest: Resisting An Attempt to Control

I am working hard to have a day that resembles rest this week. Doesn’t that sound wrong?

For the last few years I have intentionally taken a Sabbath at the end of the week instead of on Sunday, a day that is too much a whirl of activity to be considered restful. On my day off I find myself anxiously thinking about all the things I need to do, especially at The Dale. I worry about fundraising. I think of all the e-mails I should be writing. I craft a newsletter in my head because surely that will alleviate my concern about the budget. I plot meetings and what times they might work.

Oh, the irony and agony.

The crazy thing is that I know I need to rest and nothing is going to immediately change or get fixed if I do it right now. No newsletter is going to be written, laid out, printed and sent out in a single day; we are in a new year and the way our eventual year-end looks will not be decided in an afternoon; the meetings don’t need to be set until next week. Worrying, as I repeatedly tell myself, will not help.

I finally settle into our big arm-chair with a cup of coffee in my hand, close my eyes and pray. I remember a quote from author Marva Dawn, “A great benefit of Sabbath keeping is that we learn to let God take care of us, not by becoming passive and lazy, but in the freedom of giving up our feeble attempts to be God in our own lives.”

My own feeble attempt to be in control rapidly unravels. Fortunately as it does, I finally find rest.

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From Hopeless to Beloved

Last Wednesday Joanna and I were washing the dirty dishes from The Dale’s breakfast/art drop-in. Someone new to both of us wandered up to the door, peered in and began to talk. I wish I could have captured what he said on a recorder of some kind, it was that beautiful. This is a pale re-telling but here goes…

This is a beautiful place. I want to be a part of the beauty.

I have been homeless, I have been hopeless and now I want to be beloved.

I want to help. I want to do dishes.

I want to live life differently.

I feel ready.

I want to say that God is here. I can feel Him. I can see Him.

I just wanted you to both know this. Thank you. God bless.

Then he was gone.

I turned to Joanna. We both dissolved into tears. Somehow the tears turned into laughter and we just felt overwhelmingly grateful for the unexpected gift. It had been a tough start to the week and so we sat in the moment and then…tenderly finished the dishes.

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Standing in the Gap

Beauty can rise up out of the ashes.

If you read my last post you will know that I have been in the middle of a very difficult situation. While I won’t explain the details of it here, I can share some of the expressions of care and love that have poured out of it.

Bare cupboards have been filled.

Out of some people’s relative nothing, a sweet assortment of thoughtful gifts have been procured for the hurting one. One giver had less than $48 in the bank for the entire month, but wanted to participate by giving a treasured something from their belongings.

A Dale friend who knows the same kind of pain being currently experienced said, “Everyone needs someone who KNOWS what this feels like. I want this person to know they are not alone. I will write them a letter telling them so and offer to listen”.

I can’t walk down Queen Street West with out people stopping me to ask how things are and offer to pray.

This has been an opportunity for The Dale, along with our supportive extended community, to stand in the gap that exists when the limitations of “the system” are exposed. It’s a special thing when a group of people who know the gaps all too well can work to eliminate the cracks, rather than simply reside in them.

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The Sting and Hope of Criticism

I got challenged recently and it stung.

It was December 15th, the day of our Christmas meal at The Dale. The room was buzzing with activity, including food preparation and carolling. The spiced chicken was being prepared off-site, since the kitchen we use is limited in its capacity to host that much meat. A Toronto Star reporter had come to, as she put it, “observe”. As I stood at the side of the room I remember distinctly thinking, “this is so GOOD” and having a wash of gratitude pour over me.

My thoughts were interrupted by someone I know, but admittedly not well. I will not describe the person, except to explain the gist of what I heard them say: “You have not been successful at building community here”. I was stunned. In fact, at first I thought I’d misunderstood, only to discover that I was wrong.

I’ve worked closely with people for many years, long enough to know that criticism will most certainly come. Fortunately, I deal with it much better now than when I was twenty. I also know that The Dale cannot be all things to all people. This incident surprised me, maybe because it was in the midst of a day that was marked with joy. I found myself stirred up and sad.

Since that day I have tried to uncover more of what is at the root of the sentiment I heard. It is complicated and probably less about The Dale than originally suggested. It still causes me pause, which I think is, though I wish it came in a less painful way, a good thing. At the beginning of this new year, I find myself waiting and listening for God to illuminate our next steps as a community. As we consider casting The Dale vision further, we must keep asking ourselves “what is it that we’re doing? And why?”

We desire to embrace people and to allow ourselves to be embraced by them. This takes time. I’m hopeful that for those who feel on the outside of what it happening, something will shift and they will come on in.

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Carton of Milk

A lot of what we do at The Dale happens around a table. We love sharing food and discovering the kind of community that can be built when doing so. With this in mind, imagine the challenge it is for one friend whose schizophrenia can be triggered by the aroma of certain foods. There is this push-pull thing going on for him: wanting to be present while not wanting to be manic. Not an easy thing.

I have long understood that there are certain foods my friend can and cannot eat. I also know there are strict rules around HOW things must be prepared, making it very tricky when creating meals for the whole of our community. This person quite often declines our food, graciously, knowing the challenge his needs present.

On Sunday my friend showed up with a small carton of homogenized milk, one of the few things he views as a treat. He rather excitedly got two glasses out of the cupboard and asked me to have a glass of milk with him. He sent me home with the leftovers. Honestly, it felt like a precious Christmas gift and communion all at once. It made the season a little more…merry.

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Generous Compassion

A Dale friend pulled me into a corner at the Wednesday Drop-In, looked at me intently and said, “I want to encourage you”. This friend has the look of someone who has survived a lot. He knows the street and substance addiction. He is also a very good drummer. As he proceeded to talk, I felt he knew exactly what I needed to hear.

It is not uncommon for me to be huddled with people from The Dale in a corner, at a table or on a bench just like I was with this friend. Bystanders will occasionally quietly ask, “what are you doing? You must be helping that person, right?”. I usually respond: “we are helping each other”.

Wednesday was a beautiful reminder of this. I was encouraged to remember that God works righteousness and justice for all the oppressed, is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in love. I don’t know if my friend realized his words were right out of Psalm 103, but I suspect he did. He went on to pray that I continue to be patient; know that I am loved; and have a renewed understanding that God’s forgiveness is for me too. My friend’s words were genuine and full of grace. 

This kind of generous compassion is what we are all, regardless of economic or social status, called to. ‘Charity’ is not meant to be one way. I hope that I will have a word for my friend when he needs it. Good thing we’re in this together.

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The Cohesion of People

November 15th, otherwise known as Fundraiser day, was a blur of activity. Every once in a while I told myself (or Joanna reminded me) to slow down and take a look around the room, fulling ingesting what was happening.

I saw children: some just walking, some toddlers, some school aged dancing with the kind of abandon I wish we retained as adults. I saw my friend James, an artist and core member of the Dale selling cards adorned with his art so that he could give us a “cut” of the profits. Another friend, Norma was selling jewellery for the same reason. I saw people bobbing for apples, playing cards, throwing sponges at a target with a brave volunteer’s face as the bull’s-eye and tossing ping-pong balls into jars. I saw people dressing up at the photo booth and getting their faces painted.  I saw a table of beautiful pies for auction, some made by friends, others made by Wanda’s Pie in the Sky- a little shop in Kensington Market. I saw people enjoying bowls of chill and pieces of cornbread, those who eat with us on Mondays in the Drop-In and those who don’t. I saw people square dancing. I saw people reading about where the donations we receive actually go. I saw The Lovelocks take the stage. I saw so many different people doing whatever it took to make sure the event went smoothly.

As is true with any event, we will need to determine what worked and what we might do differently in the future. The time for that is coming. In the meantime, I want to celebrate all that was good. I have not forgotten that just a couple of years ago The Dale (then PNC) almost closed. We have been through a lot and come a long way. What kept bringing tears to my eyes throughout the 15th was the variety of people present and how you couldn’t tell who was who: The Dale community, Board members, supporters, volunteers, neighbours, friends and family. It has been this kind of cohesion, this kind of coming together that has brought The Dale to the present day. I do not take this for granted. Now I want to slow down, take a look around and imagine what’s next.