“I’m done talkin. Hell i even talked to Sister Mary over there (Referring to me)” Post Interview@Kitchen.

As usual, I debate the ‘clothes issue.’  I don’t want to stand out; especially in a soup kitchen that feeds the homeless.  I settle for the ‘comfort’ look.  I want to be able to blend in, but then again i don’t know what that is.  Will there be homeless individuals dressed in tattered dirty clothes that smell or will they look “average” (whatever that means!)  Anyway, I go through the whole check list and end with plugging  ‘1514 Federal street, Camden’ in my GPS.  I wanted an earlier appointment that will give me enough time to leave when it is still daylight.  Unfortunately that was the only time Miss K. had.

This time I was not as nervous as with my trip to the Shelter.  I exit the Campbell soup exit.  I felt I had it under control; I am  familiar with the area.  I continue following “turn left, turn right” until I find myself in front of Campbell’s security booth.  This can’t be right I thought to myself.  So I back up and turn left towards Haddon Ave.  Maybe the GPS will recalculate and guide me back to my destination.  That didn’t work.  I began to panic once again.  Instantaneously I decided to drive back to Campbell Soup and ask the security guard for direction.

“Do you know where Federal Street is?  I don’t know what’s wrong with the stupid GPS (I should have upgraded).”  I blurted.

“Ohhh yahhh, since Campbell remodeled, they closed the road that was supposed to lead to Federal.  What you can do is make a u-turn into Campbell and make the first right at the stop light.  Then you should be able to get to Federal.”

I found Federal, but not the Kitchen.  I thought it would stand out since my preliminary research indicated that it was a new remodeled building.

As usual, the surrounding neighborhood was disgraceful in appearance.  I thought I would catch a glimpse of the homeless since she told me that they serve Dinner at 4:00 PM.  There was nothing, just deserted.  I decided to find a parking spot and call them.  I fumbled for the phone, called them and the voice on the other side shouted “there’s static on the phone, call again.”  Frustrated, I called home and asked my husband to verify the address for me.  It felt like forever, and I felt nervous and awkward in my parked car, especially when another car with two male individuals parked behind me.  I decided to make my way back to Campbell’s.  A block, away I saw a building to my left that appeared to be better that the rest.  This might be it, I thought.  I made another u turn and drove into the parking lot.

 

Building across the street from the Kitchen

 

The Cathedral Kitchen

There was a gentleman coming out of the building, so I asked if this was the Cathedral Kitchen.  He confirmed it was.  Looking back, I may have missed it because I assumed that it would be surrounded with the homeless waiting to get in.  That was not the case.  In fact, the place looked like an office building.  Upon entry, the receptionist, a friendly mid 50’s woman greeted me and took my information.  I was asked to sit.  To my left was what appeared to be Dental/Doctor’s offices and to my right were the staff offices.  However they were behind the security door.  No one was allowed in until the person you are set to meet comes to get you.

So I waited for Miss K.  The doctors and nurses were obviously busy.  Soon enough Miss K. Opened the security door, briefly greeted me, and escorted me to her office on the right.  As soon as we entered, I heard light background music.   She left the door open.  “So what is it exactly that you want to know,” she questioned.  I did not even have the chance to sit down. She was direct and gave me no room to establish a bond.  I struggled to keep my back pack up.   I pretended to look for my cell phone so that I can buy more time to gather my thoughts.  “I need to shut my cell off so that we are not interrupted.  It worked!

I began with a brief introduction about my research and how I hoped to make it into a Thesis.”  She listened with no interruption.  I kind of hoped for interruption because it allows for the barriers of formality to break down.  She leaned on to her desk with one hand propped up to rest her left side of the face on.  I don’t think she blinked, or that might have been my nervousness.  I thought, oh my God, she can see through me and she knows I still don’t know enough about this topic. She must be thinking; just another one of those students with nothing to do.  I continued to “blah, blah, blah.”  Silence ensued after my voice drowned into the walls.

“Have you heard of Covenant House?” she finally muttered.

“No.” I responded.

“You’ll probably know a lot more about it when you research this topic further.  Covenant House targets the homeless between the ages of 16-21.  I did my masters on the Homeless.”

Finally, a breakthrough! I expressed a great deal of excitement and proceeded to ask her about her Research.  She was obviously happy to speak about her Thesis. Her book was published in the Lincoln Library.  She rested her back on the chair and shared her experience about the Homeless.  Her demeanor changed.  She was definitely ready to interact.

I captured the opportunity and eased my question into her discussion of her Thesis, “Who are the people of the streets and why are they not in homes or in the programs offered?”

Her immediate response, “Among many reasons, they suffer from mental instability or substance abuse.  They choose to stay in the streets because they spend what they have on drugs.  They don’t want to stay in a shelter because there are rules and regulations that they have to follow.  That’s not to say that all of them are like that.  Some of them are homeless because they fell on hard times.  If you are staying on someone’s house, you are homeless.”

Apparently, the homeless on the street receive Welfare even if they don’t have an address.  Their checks are direct deposited so they use a bank card to get the money.  I did not know that!  Miss K continued to explain that there is a myth where people believe that individuals with criminal backgrounds can’t get jobs.  “They can get jobs.  There are agencies/organizations such as Operation Reconnect who specialize with getting jobs for people coming out of prison.”

She further explained they have a program, Culinary Arts training Program, which takes in convicts or people with no skills, train them until they have a degree, and then help with job placement.  This 17-week program is valued at approx. $1500 and enrolls 40 students at a time.  They have two 17-week sessions.  The training takes place in the Cathedral kitchen where they work under the master chef to prepare the food for the homeless.  I had no idea.  Now that’s what efficiency is all about.  Everyone benefits.

Although I already assumed that the poor and destitute are the only people who come in to eat; nevertheless, I asked, “what kind of people come in here?”

Leaning back on her chair, swinging from side to side, with a large window behind her overlooking the dining hall and Chaka Khan’s Ain’t nobody playing on the background, she said, “Not everyone who comes here is homeless.  Some choose to come here because we have good food.  Ours is not fake food.  It’s good food. We don’t question anybody.  Looking at me you don’t know whether I am homeless. Just because I carry myself with pride does not mean I am not homeless. That’s what gets me-misconceptions.”

At this point, I just wanted to get up and dance.  “Ain’t nobody loves me better” just had that effect.  Miss K., passionate about the homeless, about the kitchen, about the people who come in, was inspiring.  Someone does care, and loves to help those in need.  I pictured the whole dining hall dancing to “ain’t nobody loves me better.”

The center offers one meal a day cooked on the premises by the chef and the culinary class.  This is their 5th class since the program started. They have over 3000 volunteers, mostly retirees.  They also receive donations from restaurants, companies and individuals in society.  One of their major contributors is Campbell Soup.  The kitchen is one of the first buildings to go ‘green’.  It is built from recyclable material.  They have showers in the facility and provide toiletries for all who need it.  For more info visit http://www.cathedralkitchen.org/

In addition to providing a meal a day, they have Project H.O.P.E , the Project smiles dental group, and the South Jersey Eye Center on the premises.  They provide free health care to the homeless.  Also, for those who need legal assistance, South Jersey legal services provide legal assistance twice a month.  All I can say is “what a dedicated group of people/staff.”

It was approaching 4:00Pm and Miss K. stood up and said, “I need to change.”  I was taken aback, “do I have to change too?” I inquired.

“No, you look fine.  It’s just you can’t wear anything revealing when you go out there,” she responded.  At that point I noticed she wore a lace blouse.  She picked up a blazer/sweater, grey and simple from the coat hanger and said, “come let me show you around before they start serving the meals.”  We walked out of the secured section into the Dental offices on the other side of the Receptionist’s desk.  The first thing noticed is everyone noticing me.  I’ve come to understand through this and prior experience that people are suspicious of observation and note pads.  They automatically feel as though they are being evaluated/judged.  Anyway, the Dental seats were clean and in great shape.  Frankly, they looked better than those in my Doctor’s office.  All the seats were occupied by clients and it seemed the Doctors and nurses were very friendly with the patients.  In fact, I learnt that they will actually go to the patient’s location if they can’t make it to the clinic.  How awesome is that???

From researching the homeless, i found that the system tries to encourage them to use these clinics as opposed to emergency rooms.  I find that ironic given the fact that people with health plans are encouraged to go to the emergency room as opposed to the clinic.  I experienced many a times when the Doctor’s office encourages the sick patient to go to the emergency.  I have come to believe that clinics are for the healthy, but that is just how I feel.  They are great with well visits and the minor flu, but anything else “GO TO THE EMERGENCY.”

I digress…Anyway we finally open another security door leading into the spacious dining Hall.  First impression-clean, very clean.  The tables were already set up with water bottles, dessert cupcakes and loaves of Pepridge farm whole wheat bread.  WOW!  The tables can sit up to 10 people, 5 on each side.  Miss K. introduces me to the volunteers who help serve the homeless.  We then make our way to the kitchen.  “You’ll never know from looking at them, who has a criminal background.  As soon as we walked in I observed Miss K’s interaction with the staff.  She knows them all and chats with them as though they were her friends.  They were all happy to see her.  Some had questions/concerns to share with her.

The kitchen was exceptionally clean and spacious, housed with stainless steel appliances.  The atmosphere was relaxed and jovial, to say the least.  I saw the humongous walk in fridge packed with culinary art presentations of food.  The food pantry was packed with donations from everyone.  I observed a student prepare a wonderful plate of fruits designed to perfection.  Surprisingly there was no food smell.  The hygiene was impeccable.

 

Food prepared in the Cathedral Kitchen by the Culinary Art students.

 

Pantry containing donated food

The chef, a tall and healthy man, said, “We don’t serve pork.  We only serve chicken or Fish like Tilapia or Salmon.”  Today’s menu was a healthy sizable serving of Spanish rice, Chicken leg and thigh, and Watermelon and Pineapples.  I thanked the staff for letting me into their kitchen and headed out to the dining hall.  This was my opportunity to take photos before they start serving.  Miss K. suggested I sit at the back where I can observe the people as they come in.  I gladly oblige.  She then mentioned that they have designated special tables at the front for families.  I asked why and she explained that there are times when there is vulgar language and they don’t want the children to be exposed to that.  I thought about that for a second and realized they’re already exposed to that and even more!

"We serve people with dignity" said Miss K.

Tables prepared to serve

Plates are served hot just right before they come in

They are given a goody bag to take with them

Miss K. decided to pull a chair next to me and provide me with some information about the clients as they come in…  Two minutes before they open the doors, the volunteers stand in a circle holding hands.  “They are praying,” she said.  Then they open the doors and the people file in.  Most of them were men from all races.  From the way they were dressed I could not tell who was homeless.  There were those who came in with dirty clothes or appeared to be unbalanced, but for the most part, it appeared as though it was just a get together.  I noticed a couple of families come in with children.  One child waved to me.  I waved back and he approached me.

He was wearing an oversized jacket and a pair of jeans.  “How old are you?” I asked.  He answered “nine.”  He was the same age as my youngest son.  I told him to catch up with his family and that he can come back to talk to me after he ate.   As he turned to walk away I said without much thought “I love you.’  He whispered back “I love you too.”  I couldn’t help but feel helpless to the whole situation.  His eyes were so expressive with sadness.

Miss K. obviously knows most of them and they know her too.

“How you doin’ baby?” was the repeated phrase followed by friendly exchanges.  Some would come and give her hugs, and chat for a few minutes; others will shout out, “I’ll catch up with you later.”  A white male, 35-40 yrs. old, tall, wide shouldered, dressed in casual pants, shirt and Jacket, came to her, gave her a light hug and asked whether he looked good with his new clean haircut and perfectly trimmed beard and mustache.

I had no idea he was homeless.  Several approached Miss K.:  a transgender male with a bright pink leather jacket and tight black pants, swinging from side to side complained to her about a failed relationship, another with a Sherlock Holmes look complained about his dentures (he will be the first recipient for a new apartment in a new complex after almost 10 years), and the most memorable, a man who resembled George Jefferson from  The Jeffersons show.  He was funny, light-hearted, a dancer (I was witness to his moves) and very entertaining.

“How have you been doing?” asked Miss K.  He proceeded to complain about many issues.  She suggested he talk to someone.  That is when he said:

“I’m done talking.  I talked to the social services, to the mayor, to the President, to the Rabbi, hell I even got done talking to sister Mary(or whoever you are) over there and even she got no answers.”  He referred to me as Sister Mary.  As funny as it was, it was sad.  At that point, Project H.O.P.E  intervened and the Nurses tried to have him come in for a health checkup.  He turned to me and said, “she is the nurse who jumped me with the syringe last time.”  The nurses laughed.  I guess they are used to his approach.  He kept going back and forth sneaking more plates in his back sack.  The staff new, it but let it slip.  How humane was that?

Miss K. pointed to a healthy looking man and referred to him as ‘the Mayor’.  He refers to himself as the mayor of Tent city.  He was with his wife and sister. He was one of those people who choose to be Homeless.  He was offered housing but declined and came back to Tent City, even though his wife got really sick from being outside.  He would be someone interesting to interview next time.

Everyone ate quietly, conversing amicably with one another or with the volunteers or staff.  There was one woman who was extremely suspicions of me and my note pad.  She kept me under her eyes and finally asked what i was doing.  My explanation did not satisfy her and she remained conscious of me the whole time.

Finally the garbage bags began to fill up with empty plates.  I took notice of the little boy and his family.  He walked over to me with his grandmother and little sister.  His grandmother sat next to me and began by “he needs clothes to go to school with.”  Her English was limited.  I struggled to understand her.  Their father was incarcerated and they travelled all night on a train to come to their grandmother, who was poor as it is.  “Chico, tell her what you want.”  So his name was Chico.

“What do you want Chico?” I asked.  He wanted a winter jacket and a sweater.  I told her that I will inform the case worker and bring him some clothes myself.  At that moment, Miss K. came and immediately went in to the offices only to come back with the perfect red winter jacket, orange sweatshirt, stuffed animal for the girl, and toys for both of them.  Chico took off his grandmother’s sweater and wore the new clothes.  I zipped up his jacket.  The grandmother insisted to give me her phone number.  I wrote it down next to Chico’s name.  That is when they all laughed and informed me that his name was Lawrence.  Then who was Chico?  Later I came to find out that Chico means boy in Spanish.  Once again I was confronted with a language barrier.  The grandmother gave me and Miss K. a kiss and a hug.  Chico looked at me with his big brown eyes.  Chico has already added years to his age.  He now has to share in the responsibility of his sister

The dining hall emptied, and it was time for us to head back to the office.  Miss K. gave me a great source, the Hot Team.  “They go out in a van twice a month to the hot spots for homeless people and try to bring them in for help,” she added.  She gave me the email for the point person then she bid me goodbye and said, “Beware when you are heading to your car.  You have to be mindful with everything around you.”  She buzzed me out of the secured offices.  I quickly made my way to my car, took a few pictures and rushed back home.  I definitely plan to come back.

 

I leave the the parking lot of the kitchen

Although there were problems in these people’s lives; nevertheless, there was an air of dismissal to the problems and all I saw were people sincerely enjoying their meals and   having conversation, something I haven’t witnessed in professional settings.

Reflection:

• There was a situation that happened with my tape recorder.  After my usual pre-check in the car, I forgot to turn it off.  A few minutes into the interview with Miss K. i asked whether she would mind me interviewing her.  She did.  She was OK with note taking.  So i continued with the interview.  At one point I reached into my bag for the cell phone to check the time and I realized the red record button was on.  I did not know what to do.  I decided to leave it alone.  On our way out, I reached in and tried to stop it.  Suddenly I hear faint voices coming from my bag.  Fortunately, by this time Miss K. was talking the whole time, walking ahead of me.  In addition there were other conversations that drowned my recorder.  I reached  into my bag and tried to stop it, but I swear I don’t know what happened,  the recorder would not stop.  It was as if it was possessed.  I became very nervous.  All I kept saying, “yah right.” in response to her so that she does not become suspicious.  I finally fumbled for the battery and removed it.  Thank God I did not try to stop the recorder while I was in her office.  This would have definitely put a damper on the whole interview.
• I definitely learned a lot from this experience.  Observation was the key to understanding the people involved with the Kitchen.  However, I believe that one has to go several times to capture a realistic picture.  This is but a tiny slice in the world of information waiting to be discovered.
• I will definitely try to establish contact with the Hot Team.  I just don’t know how my family will think of this-me literally chasing the homeless in a white van.  At this point I feel I can do anything.