I'm co-ordinating Homelessness Action Week events this October on behalf of the Greater Victoria Coalition to End Homelessness, including our second annual Project Connect. Here's the press release that will be going out tomorrow - if you're interested in contributing to the week, please see the list of needs below. And if you can volunteer your time for Project Connect on Oct. 14, please let me know. Hope to see you there!
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
Sept. 14, 2009
Service day for street community helps prep for winter cold
A service fair next month for people living homeless and in poverty returns for another year with even more on offer for hundreds in the capital region preparing for a cold, wet winter on the streets.
Almost 600 people attended Project Connect last year, an all-day event sponsored by the Greater Victoria Coalition to End Homelessness and its partners across the region. Organizers are preparing for even higher numbers for this year’s, to be held Oct. 14 at Our Place. The popular event, part of Homelessness Action Week (Oct. 11-17), provides one-stop access to a wide variety of services and food for people living in deep poverty and homelessness in our region.
“We bring key community services into the same room for a day and make it as easy as possible for people coming to the event to find the support they need,” says Jody Paterson, who’s co-ordinating Homelessness Action Week activities this year on behalf of the Coalition.
“So we’ll have the street nurses there, and people doing footcare, and help for people needing to get on income assistance, replace missing ID, or connect with the major outreach teams working in the downtown. But we’ll also have haircuts, veterinarian care, acupuncture, resume-writing and a whole lot of food, which means the day is also about helping people have a good time for a few hours.”
Donations of all kinds are most welcome. The Coalition is organizing a backpack drive in local secondary schools, and hopes that every Project Connect participant leaves the event with a backpack filled with donations from the community: socks, gloves, toques, scarves, grooming products, feminine hygiene, toothbrushes and toothpaste, reading glasses.
Please drop off Project Connect donations at Our Place, 919 Pandora Ave., any morning Sept. 21-24, 9 a.m. to 1 p.m. Ask to be directed to the Project Connect volunteers.
The Coalition is also looking for haircutters willing to volunteer a few hours that day, having seen last year that haircuts were one of the most sought-after services. Volunteers in general will be needed to help out at Project Connect and in the coming weeks; contact Deb Nilsen at dnilsen@shaw.ca to get involved. The Capital City Lions Club will return for a second year for a day-long burgers-and-dogs barbecue.
The Coalition is a non-profit community-based partnership of agencies that work together to end homelessness in Greater Victoria. More than 400 people were housed and supported last year through the collective efforts of coalition member agencies, and almost 400 more units of housing and shelter are now underway.
Visit the Coalition's Web sitefor more on the coalition. For information on Project Connect and Homelessness Action Week events, contact Jody Paterson at jodypaterson@shaw.ca.
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Homelessness Action Week events
Oct. 11-17, 2009
Here are a few of the events being organized by the Greater Victoria Coalition to End Homelessness and other service providers in the region. Keep an eye on the Coalition’s Web site at www.solvehomelessness.ca for more information on events as the date draws closer.
• An art show featuring the art and music of people who have experienced homelessness, including selected works from the Street Voice Project. Friday, Oct. 16, 7-10 p.m. at the Victoria Conservatory of Music.
• A forum for leadership students throughout the region led by a panel of people who have experienced homelessness. Tuesday, Oct. 13, venue and time TBA.
• Tours of service agencies and other organizations working in the area of homelessness, including the new Access Health Centre and Woodwynn Farm
• Landlord Appreciation Day, sponsored by Pacifica Housing
• Public premiere of the documentary 40 Years of Cool Aid Culture
About the Greater Victoria Coalition to End Homelessness:
Formed in 2008, our diverse non-profit coalition is made up of representatives of all key organizations whose work relates to homelessness, including service providers, government ministries, police, funders, the health authority and elected officials. We work to find housing and support for people living homeless using a “housing first” approach, and also to stop the flow of new people onto our streets by addressing the root causes of homelessness.
The cost of people living homeless is estimated at $50,000 annually per person - a total of $75 million a year in our region alone based on an estimated homeless population of 1,500. Housing people and providing the supports they need not only improves their quality of life and community connection, but reduces the enormous social, health, justice and sanitation costs of homelessness.
A few highlights from the past year:
• More than 400 people housed and supported through the collective efforts of coalition member agencies - significantly exceeding the target of 250
• 130 additional rent supplements for our region from BC Housing
• 15 new adult detox/residential treatment beds brought on by the Vancouver Island Health Authority, for a total of 21 in the region
• The forging of a new partnership merging the Coalition and the Victoria Steering Committee on Homelessness, bringing $1.2 million in federal contributions to the Coalition over the next two years.
• Some 367 units of supportive and transitional housing in the works or newly available, including a shelter under construction on Ellice Street and supported housing units on Humboldt and Swift streets
I'm a communications strategist and writer with a journalism background, a drifter's spirit, and a growing sense of alarm at where this world is going. I am happiest when writing pieces that identify, contextualize and background societal problems big and small in hopes of helping us at least slow our deepening crises.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Friday, September 04, 2009
Muddy waters hide true level of cuts in BC budget
The devil’s in the details, as the saying goes. But good luck trying to find them in the revamped provincial budget if you’re looking to understand where the cuts to provincially funded services are going to hurt the most.
What is clear is that somebody’s definitely going to be feeling pain. The revised 2009-10 budget reflects a major downturn in provincial revenue. Government has earmarked almost $2 billion in cuts over the next three years that will come from “administrative efficiencies” inside government, and an additional $1.5 billion in cuts to various community services receiving year-to-year grants.
The government calls such grants “discretionary.” What they mean by that is that government is under no obligation to provide the money in the first place, or to keep it coming. Discretionary grants have become a very common but extremely unstable way of funding many kinds of community services.
The $159 million or so the government hands out every year in gaming grants are considered discretionary, for instance. But that’s only the government’s opinion. Ask any of the thousands of community groups that desperately count on that money to fund important services and they’ll tell you that those gaming grants are essential.
A senior Finance Ministry bureaucrat told me at this week’s budget release that it only makes sense to cut discretionary spending first. “Isn’t that what you’d do in your own household?” he asked me.
Sure, but in that case it would be up to me to decide what expenses could be classified as discretionary. Who is it that defines “discretionary” at the provincial level for purposes of funding cuts? Whose grants are on the hit list? I spent six hours poring over pages and pages of budget documents Tuesday and am still no closer to the answer.
Vancouver Sun columnist Vaughn Palmer asked the question of the day on this point when he queried Finance Minister Colin Hansen at the budget lockup as to why there wasn’t a list of all the grants being cut. I wonder whether anyone in government even has such a list, or has any idea of what the cumulative effect will be from cutting so many community grants all at once.
Hansen invited Palmer and any other interested media to scrutinize three account classifications in the “Supplement to the Estimates” to find that out. Such classifications are known as Standard Objects of Expense - STOBS - and the ones in question are numbers 77, 79 and 80. All three provide funding for community partners, whether in the form of discretionary grants, required payments, or contractual agreements.
So I put on my reading glasses and scrutinized, aided by a kind Finance Ministry staffer who dug up the original supplement from the February budget needed to compare any differences between the two.
But as it turns out, the task is impossible even with both documents in hand. That’s because while government ministries were cutting discretionary grants, they were muddying the waters by also recategorizing a whole bunch of other STOBs that fit into those same three classifications.
For example, what looks like the wholesale slaughter of discretionary grants within the Attorney General’s ministry turns out to be just a shifting of legal-aid services into a different. Discretionary grants in the Health Ministry look like they’ll shrink from $50 million to a mere $4.3 million, but ministry bureaucrats say that, too, is just the result of funding being moved around.
In the Public Service and Solicitor General’s ministry, there’s $1 million less for discretionary grants related to policing, community services and victim services. In the Ministry of Children and Family Development, there’s $2 million less for child and family development.
Can we presume those are cuts to community groups? I don’t have a clue. Nothing I could find in the documents added up to anything like the $385 million in cuts to discretionary funding that have apparently already been made this year, so who knows what it all means?
It will be weeks or even months before anyone on the ground has any real sense of what’s being lost. At the same time, communities will be feeling the effects of local health authorities cutting $25 million a year from their budgets by reducing admin costs and their own “discretionary” spending.
The provincial cuts have all been made for this year, the Finance Ministry assures me. But that’s not to say that those on the receiving end have been informed yet, or are in any way prepared for even heavier cuts this spring. Listen for the wails in a community near you.
The devil’s in the details, as the saying goes. But good luck trying to find them in the revamped provincial budget if you’re looking to understand where the cuts to provincially funded services are going to hurt the most.
What is clear is that somebody’s definitely going to be feeling pain. The revised 2009-10 budget reflects a major downturn in provincial revenue. Government has earmarked almost $2 billion in cuts over the next three years that will come from “administrative efficiencies” inside government, and an additional $1.5 billion in cuts to various community services receiving year-to-year grants.
The government calls such grants “discretionary.” What they mean by that is that government is under no obligation to provide the money in the first place, or to keep it coming. Discretionary grants have become a very common but extremely unstable way of funding many kinds of community services.
The $159 million or so the government hands out every year in gaming grants are considered discretionary, for instance. But that’s only the government’s opinion. Ask any of the thousands of community groups that desperately count on that money to fund important services and they’ll tell you that those gaming grants are essential.
A senior Finance Ministry bureaucrat told me at this week’s budget release that it only makes sense to cut discretionary spending first. “Isn’t that what you’d do in your own household?” he asked me.
Sure, but in that case it would be up to me to decide what expenses could be classified as discretionary. Who is it that defines “discretionary” at the provincial level for purposes of funding cuts? Whose grants are on the hit list? I spent six hours poring over pages and pages of budget documents Tuesday and am still no closer to the answer.
Vancouver Sun columnist Vaughn Palmer asked the question of the day on this point when he queried Finance Minister Colin Hansen at the budget lockup as to why there wasn’t a list of all the grants being cut. I wonder whether anyone in government even has such a list, or has any idea of what the cumulative effect will be from cutting so many community grants all at once.
Hansen invited Palmer and any other interested media to scrutinize three account classifications in the “Supplement to the Estimates” to find that out. Such classifications are known as Standard Objects of Expense - STOBS - and the ones in question are numbers 77, 79 and 80. All three provide funding for community partners, whether in the form of discretionary grants, required payments, or contractual agreements.
So I put on my reading glasses and scrutinized, aided by a kind Finance Ministry staffer who dug up the original supplement from the February budget needed to compare any differences between the two.
But as it turns out, the task is impossible even with both documents in hand. That’s because while government ministries were cutting discretionary grants, they were muddying the waters by also recategorizing a whole bunch of other STOBs that fit into those same three classifications.
For example, what looks like the wholesale slaughter of discretionary grants within the Attorney General’s ministry turns out to be just a shifting of legal-aid services into a different. Discretionary grants in the Health Ministry look like they’ll shrink from $50 million to a mere $4.3 million, but ministry bureaucrats say that, too, is just the result of funding being moved around.
In the Public Service and Solicitor General’s ministry, there’s $1 million less for discretionary grants related to policing, community services and victim services. In the Ministry of Children and Family Development, there’s $2 million less for child and family development.
Can we presume those are cuts to community groups? I don’t have a clue. Nothing I could find in the documents added up to anything like the $385 million in cuts to discretionary funding that have apparently already been made this year, so who knows what it all means?
It will be weeks or even months before anyone on the ground has any real sense of what’s being lost. At the same time, communities will be feeling the effects of local health authorities cutting $25 million a year from their budgets by reducing admin costs and their own “discretionary” spending.
The provincial cuts have all been made for this year, the Finance Ministry assures me. But that’s not to say that those on the receiving end have been informed yet, or are in any way prepared for even heavier cuts this spring. Listen for the wails in a community near you.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Throne Speech foreshadows cuts to come
Maybe you’ll be one of the lucky ones and barely feel a blip when the provincial government reveals its retooled budget next week.
But in the capital city, in a region dependent on government jobs and provincial funding on all kinds of fronts, there can’t be many of those kind of people out there. My sense is that a lot more are awaiting Tuesday’s budget announcement with trepidation and fear, and this week’s throne speech certainly brought no comfort.
Throne speeches are typically pretty vague with the details. They give the flavour of the budget to come, and set the tone. But they don’t actually say what’s going to happen, leaving those who desperately want to know more to read between the lines.
The gist of the Aug. 25 throne speech is roughly this: “B.C. is in the grips of something so awful that we couldn’t have imagined it, and we’ve really had to make some tough decisions around spending. But you can trust us to look after what’s important.”
The throne speech that Lt.-Gov. Steven Point delivered opens with heartfelt sympathies to the families of various prominent British Columbians who died in the last six months, and ends 4,000 words later with an ode to the Olympics. There are no less than a dozen warm references to the importance of B.C.’s children.
But you can hear what’s really being said in the phrases about seismic economic change and decimated government revenues, and in the promises to protect indispensable services while rooting out unnecessary spending. I get the shivers when government starts talking like that, because those are nice little setup lines for all kinds of cuts.
The feeling I got from reading the throne speech was of a worried-uncle type peering sincerely into my eyes, giving me one of those sad-faced, isn’t-this-just-crappy-but-what’s-a-province-to-do looks.
He’s telling me that he’s sorry, so sorry. But these are extraordinary times, and we’re all just going to have to hunker down and tough it out. Why, if he had the money, he’d be taking me out to paint the town red right now, but his fiscal cupboard is bare.
He urges me to trust him, and assures me that all will be well soon. He squeezes my shoulder and says I should be happy that he’s here to take care of things, because at least he knows how to live within his means.
Not quite, what with four or more years of deficits on the horizon. But never mind. What worries me more is having to trust that government will think things all the way through before making cuts. I’m not sure I have much trust left for any government after decades of politicized, poorly informed and random cuts and policy changes that definitely haven’t turned out well for B.C.
When I read in the throne speech that government is going to minimize spending on non-essential services, I wonder: Who’s defining “non-essential”? When I see a pledge to “protect critical health and education services,” I’m curious to know what government considers critical, and why it is that so many other vital government-funded services were left off that very short list.
I guess we’ll all find out in the weeks and months to come, when the long columns of figures in Tuesday’s revised budget become the flesh-and-blood faces of people and communities who are affected negatively by whatever cuts are coming.
You and I will have no say in any of it, because the decisions have already been made. The programs and services that government considers “non-essential” or “discretionary” have already been identified and marked for cuts. Our input wasn’t sought, but we’ll be the ones living with whatever new world order comes out of this.
The throne speech is as interesting for what’s not in it as it is for what’s mentioned. There’s not a single word about income assistance, poverty, affordable rental housing, or mental health and addiction services during hard times ahead, even though the downturn is already having a heavy impact on all those areas. Aside from a brief reference to the need to “strengthen our social fabric,” there was no talk of social services at all.
Shall we take that to mean such issues are so deeply a part of our value system in B.C. that we no longer need to include them when talking about indispensable public services? I fear not.
But we’ll just have to wait until Tuesday to know, and then through the months and years it sometimes takes for the impact of cuts made in haste to hit home. In the meantime, read between the lines at http://www.leg.bc.ca/39th1st/4-8-39-1.htm.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Stereotypes getting in way of good care for seniors
This is a column about my mom, and the crazy things that can happen when you take ill at 83.
My mother is a retired nurse who has done everything right in terms of looking after her health all these years. Despite mobility challenges since being hit by a car in a crosswalk seven years ago, she’s still very much a “tough old broad,” as a friend once described her.
But as our family has now come to see, in the eyes of our depersonalized and harried health-care system, she’s just Old Person No. 347,050 on a very long list. And from what she’s been hearing from her friends, that’s just how it is once you cross some invisible line into old age.
She has no chronic health conditions. She isn’t on any long-term medication. Up until two months ago, she was travelling, cooking dinner for one friend or another virtually every night she was home, and was an active, engaged community volunteer.
Then we went on a family holiday to Tofino in June. She got too much sun one day and went to bed feeling sick. Perhaps she slept too heavily on her bad arm - the accident left her with a broken shoulder and severe limitations in the use of her right arm. At any rate, she awoke the next day with major pain in her arm.
It’s been one strange ride ever since, starting with the prescription drug she was given to reduce inflammation - which lived up to its potential to cause “a general feeling of illness” as one of its side-effects.
By the time she figured that out and quit the drug, she’d developed blood-sugar problems and was showing diabetes-like symptoms. (With any luck, that was a side-effect of the drug as well, because they’ve since stopped.)
And wouldn’t you know it, my mother’s trusted family doctor retired just as all of this got underway. That put her into the care of the doctor who’d just bought the practice.
They’d never met before my mother came in about the pain in her arm. The physician knew nothing of the vigorous, active woman my mother had been just a few days earlier, and didn’t bother to ask. I’m guessing the doctor just saw a tired, sick 83-year-old with a bum shoulder - one who had yet to come to grips with her pain and illness as the byproducts of aging.
OK, I get that. So does my mom. She recognizes that she’s in the countdown. She won’t be looking for medical heroics when her time comes.
But there’s a fine line between expecting people to accept the aging process and relegating them to assembly-line care that presumes they’ll soon be dead anyway. That’s how it has felt for my mother these past two months.
Her saga was complicated by a much-anticipated cruise to Alaska in early July, which she desperately wanted to go on. The x-ray of her shoulder found nothing untoward and the doctors didn’t seem too interested in exploring the issue further, so she mustered her strength to go on the cruise. She still didn’t know whether the diabetes-like problems she’d experienced were a reaction to the anti-inflammatory she’d taken, but figured results from the blood-sugar tests would be ready when she returned.
And they were. But by then she’d caught some terrible flu-like thing that had morphed into a secondary bronchial infection, as had her sister on the final days of the cruise. (Could it be swine flu? My mother is on Day 21 of what she describes as the worst illness of her life, and nobody has even suggested she be tested for it.)
So the bronchial infection was the more pressing issue by the time she got home. In B.C., you’re only allowed one health concern per visit these days when you go to the doctor, which meant her doctor listened to her chest but then refused to review her blood-sugar results until a later appointment.
Her active life has ground to a halt over the past two months. Depression crept in. Fortunately, all those friends she cooks for have come through for her. And the really good news is that so much time has passed since her arm first started to hurt that the original problem appears to have resolved itself. I think she’s going to be fine.
I wouldn’t say the system failed her; she got drugs, tests and an x-ray. But all of it came grudgingly, as if done just to silence a frail old lady who hadn’t come to grips with her own mortality. Come on, docs - look past those aging bodies to the people who are still very much alive inside them.
This is a column about my mom, and the crazy things that can happen when you take ill at 83.
My mother is a retired nurse who has done everything right in terms of looking after her health all these years. Despite mobility challenges since being hit by a car in a crosswalk seven years ago, she’s still very much a “tough old broad,” as a friend once described her.
But as our family has now come to see, in the eyes of our depersonalized and harried health-care system, she’s just Old Person No. 347,050 on a very long list. And from what she’s been hearing from her friends, that’s just how it is once you cross some invisible line into old age.
She has no chronic health conditions. She isn’t on any long-term medication. Up until two months ago, she was travelling, cooking dinner for one friend or another virtually every night she was home, and was an active, engaged community volunteer.
Then we went on a family holiday to Tofino in June. She got too much sun one day and went to bed feeling sick. Perhaps she slept too heavily on her bad arm - the accident left her with a broken shoulder and severe limitations in the use of her right arm. At any rate, she awoke the next day with major pain in her arm.
It’s been one strange ride ever since, starting with the prescription drug she was given to reduce inflammation - which lived up to its potential to cause “a general feeling of illness” as one of its side-effects.
By the time she figured that out and quit the drug, she’d developed blood-sugar problems and was showing diabetes-like symptoms. (With any luck, that was a side-effect of the drug as well, because they’ve since stopped.)
And wouldn’t you know it, my mother’s trusted family doctor retired just as all of this got underway. That put her into the care of the doctor who’d just bought the practice.
They’d never met before my mother came in about the pain in her arm. The physician knew nothing of the vigorous, active woman my mother had been just a few days earlier, and didn’t bother to ask. I’m guessing the doctor just saw a tired, sick 83-year-old with a bum shoulder - one who had yet to come to grips with her pain and illness as the byproducts of aging.
OK, I get that. So does my mom. She recognizes that she’s in the countdown. She won’t be looking for medical heroics when her time comes.
But there’s a fine line between expecting people to accept the aging process and relegating them to assembly-line care that presumes they’ll soon be dead anyway. That’s how it has felt for my mother these past two months.
Her saga was complicated by a much-anticipated cruise to Alaska in early July, which she desperately wanted to go on. The x-ray of her shoulder found nothing untoward and the doctors didn’t seem too interested in exploring the issue further, so she mustered her strength to go on the cruise. She still didn’t know whether the diabetes-like problems she’d experienced were a reaction to the anti-inflammatory she’d taken, but figured results from the blood-sugar tests would be ready when she returned.
And they were. But by then she’d caught some terrible flu-like thing that had morphed into a secondary bronchial infection, as had her sister on the final days of the cruise. (Could it be swine flu? My mother is on Day 21 of what she describes as the worst illness of her life, and nobody has even suggested she be tested for it.)
So the bronchial infection was the more pressing issue by the time she got home. In B.C., you’re only allowed one health concern per visit these days when you go to the doctor, which meant her doctor listened to her chest but then refused to review her blood-sugar results until a later appointment.
Her active life has ground to a halt over the past two months. Depression crept in. Fortunately, all those friends she cooks for have come through for her. And the really good news is that so much time has passed since her arm first started to hurt that the original problem appears to have resolved itself. I think she’s going to be fine.
I wouldn’t say the system failed her; she got drugs, tests and an x-ray. But all of it came grudgingly, as if done just to silence a frail old lady who hadn’t come to grips with her own mortality. Come on, docs - look past those aging bodies to the people who are still very much alive inside them.
Monday, August 17, 2009
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