Walk a Week in Your Shoes

Life is the Sum of All Your Choices

2011-07-06T14:07:00.001-05:00

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It’s been almost two months since I returned home. I am just now able to sit at my computer and write about the sum of my experiences walking in the shoes of the homeless and unemployed.

When I received the vision for the Walk a Week in Your Shoes campaign in 2009, I was a different person—spiritually wild and untamed, a spiritual adolescent. January 7, 2001, the first day of my now 10 years of sobriety, marked my spiritual rebirth. Motivated more by a need to stay sober than by my sincere desire to help others, I pursued a wide range of volunteer opportunities with the reckless abandon of a three-year-old child:

coaching alcohol- and drug-addicted adults and teens through the recovery process;
serving on the Board of Directors for the National Council on Alcoholism and Drug Dependence;
creating and teaching an afterschool creative writing/creative expression program for teens in an alternative school;
coordinating activities for children in a homeless shelter so their parents could have time to regroup at the end of the day;
serving as a judge for youth oratory contests;
serving as a drama coach for Native American youth interested in pursuing acting;
being a Big Sister with Big Brothers/Big Sisters of America; and
countless other assignments that I couldn’t complete because I was so over-scheduled.

My life was beginning again, unfolding for what seemed like the first time. Sobriety gave me a fresh start. I was like a toddler exploring a world of wonders and volunteering was my playground. Through the whirl of interactions with a wide range of people from all socioeconomic backgrounds, I began to see life’s patterns and trends. I heard stories of abuse and neglect that made me thank God for not allowing the abuse I experienced to go that far. I witnessed poverty and challenging living conditions, which let me know that I was living a blessed life. I saw people hurting and unhappy—stuck in their past and held prisoner by an unwarranted sense of unworthiness. And 10 years later, as a result of these 29 weeks, I now feel the hurt and unhappiness unique to their plight.

Such a critical, necessary shift in professional perspective came at a personal price, however. I realized that my motivation to help others had changed. No longer driven by a need to stay sober, my preferred methods for giving sobered as well. I no longer desired to be the sacrificial lamb, the trailblazer, the most connected person in the community, superhuman. I wanted a quieter, more mellow, more subtle, less intense way to help. Mistakenly, I confused the desire for quieter—more mature, more strategic, more efficient—approach to my work with a desire for a quiet, completely uninvolved life. I didn’t realize that I was transitioning into spiritual adulthood.

Sitting in that small 8x12 transitional housing room, I started to resent the work I was doing—even though I still had a sincere desire to help and knew it would make a difference in the lives of millions of families. I wanted completely out of the game, even to the point of possibly folding International Freedom Coalition. Guilt filled every crevice of my being because I felt 100% certain that I was pursuing the work God called me to do. I just could not reconcile the emerging duality between the desire to embrace this new “human” self (with limits and parameters) while still being dedicated to following the well-known, unlimited spiritual self that has sustained and guided me over the last 10 years. I felt like I was betraying God, slapping him in the face. How could I feel like turning my back on God’s work after a decade of spiritual privilege and blessings? Many times, especially during the last months, I told God to keep it. “I cannot continue to work this way. I’m sorry. I can’t do it anymore. So, keep the spiritual privilege, the visions, the guidance, the advanced knowledge, the insider’s secrets because I can’t do your work anymore. This is too much for me. I don’t want to do it.” I could not hear God’s answer at the time. Gratefully, I can now.

God does not grant me spiritual privilege in exchange for service to his work. Spiritual privilege is his gift to me just as it is for anyone else who seeks him first. I mistakenly believed it was conditional—you serve me, Sapphire, and in exchange I will help you navigate life. No. Wrong. Just like any good parent, God loves and protects me unconditionally, whether I do his work or not. Understanding finally washed over me: I was never obligated to follow the calling. I consciously chose to allow God to develop my desire to help others. Somewhere, down the line, I lost sight of that. Resentment filled my being because I am not a person who thrives under a dictatorship.

This 29-week walk in the shoes of the homeless and unemployed was my opportunity to relearn how to walk spiritually with God. I ponder the comments people make about presidents after they have served their term(s) in office: “The presidency aged them,” they observe. Likewise, this experience “aged” me spiritually.

And this journey ends just as it began. At the end of Day One of the Walk, God placed a message on a billboard that read, “Life is the sum of all your choices.” As the Coalition moves forward with its documentary Human First: The New Face of Homelessness and other projects, I choose to pursue God’s work in a more mature, strategic, and efficient fashion. My spiritually wild days are over!

Opportunity to Celebrate

Obviously, we should all celebrate the roof over our heads and the nourishment we receive no matter how it is viewed by economic or social standards. Yet, how can you "celebrate" blessings if you are homeless, hungry, unemployed, and cannot provide for your family? How, as a citizen or community leader, have you honored the value in all individuals regardless of their economic status or living situation? I celebrate by giving praise to God for providing for my needs and then sharing that praise with others as I do with this blog.

Share your story on our official Sights n Sounds Blog.

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Officially moving out

2011-05-18T11:02:00.001-05:00

Week 29

God certainly intended for me to leave the transitional housing room tonight. The surprise is I am going back to Houston for a vacation. Following God on this journey has kept me away from them for seven months. I have missed so much: my nephew's rookie season in Little League Baseball, his birthday yesterday, and his field day today.

My mother called me on two occasions today with news that she had extra money: first $100 then an unexpected check for $139. I kept telling God, "That's great, but that is not enough to move me out of here."

Shortly afterward, I broke down. "God, I have done everything you asked. Even when I didn't like it. I left my family to follow you. I haven't seen them in seven months, and you've made no provisions. I've walked this walk with no end in sight. What do you want from me?"

"Go home. Two week vacation," God interrupted.

So, I called my mom and had to look up flights for me. As God would have it, Southwest has a special $89 fare for a flight out tomorrow. I will move out tonight and stay with a friend. Then, it is off to the airport tomorrow.

This is a welcome and much needed break. When I return, I will see what the next steps are and what provisions will be made for me.

Sapphire Jule King

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Remaining steadfast in faith

2011-05-13T15:06:00.001-05:00

Week 29
I have received offers from friends to pay the $25 rent to stay in the room. However, as I have now gotten rid of the necessities to stay here (bed linens, towels, eating utensils, clothes, etc.), I have passed the point of no return. God instructed me to remove those things because he said it is time for me to move. I submitted my manuscript for a children's book series last week and thought that would prompt a move on May 23rd as God originally told me. Yet, with the elimination of necessities, running out of food, the sudden vision quest and now me sitting on the floor of the dressed in my suit-my only clothing-waiting, it seems that God is moving me sooner. However, it usually takes a couple of weeks to hear back from an agent and longer for the book to sell if the agent decides to represent you. I really have no idea what God is up to but I trust that the events over the past week have a purpose and that is to move me out, not keep me here. God, I am sitting here waiting on you. Sapphire

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My Prayer

2011-05-12T13:39:00.000-05:00

Week 28: Walking in the shoes of the homeless and unemployed My three-day quest ends today. I have 1/4 cup of detoxifing kale left to facilitate the fast. Then I have nothing left. No more food. No money. Nothing but the clothes on my back-the suit-literally. Everything else I have gotten rid of as God instructed. Sleeping on this floor is most unpleasant but necessary part of the quest to humble myself. I am grateful for all God has done to provide for me over there past 2 8 weeks. I am fervently praying that He has mercy on my very human soul and find it fit to move me tomorrow instead of the 23rd since I have followed his directions to clear out all assurances. Dear God, please see me where I lay. Please remember that I arrived at this place-in this current state-by following your lead. Please remember that I am human. I trust in your greater plan although I know nothing of how this will turn out. I trust that, in the end, all this has been for my greater good and the greater good of others who can be helped by the Bill of Rights for the Homeless. Your humble and dedicated servant to the end, Sapphire

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Vision Quest: You can't take it with you

2011-05-11T09:36:00.001-05:00

Week 28: Walking in the shoes of the homeless and unemployed 12 days to move out After scrubbing the room from top to bottom on Monday, tossing out all bed linens, and packing my things, I camped out on the floor in a two and a half foot wide space. All I had was my favorite blankie from years ago (which God allowed me to keep) to lie on and two rolls of toilet paper for a pillow. Not very comfortable. I awoke yesterday morning with God whispering "time to vision quest" in my ear. Knowing how my last vision quest changed my life, I immediately went into a deep, active meditation to receive His guidance. "First, vision quest for three days starting today. You have already cleaned the space with loving intentions so no need for a sacred circle." In that moment I realized something profound had happened. While on my hands and knees scrubbing these floors, I asked God to bless the room for the next person. And I cleaned it thoroughly. As it happens, the "bed" I prepared for someone else is the one I had to lie in. Literally. I am not an avid bible reader, but I know that is in there. "Second, clean out what you have packed."

I thought I had gotten rid of all nonessentials already. Wrong. God had me throw out my clothes bought for the original Walk down to the socks, my leather jacket, my beloved scarf and gloves bought in London but now tainted with memories of the shelter, even my nephew's high school baseball socks. "He has moved on to bigger things. Do not hold him back by hanging on to that which represents his past just as I am guiding you to release ALL from your past." By the end of the day, I had cut up my maxed out credit card which still provided a few extra dollars each month after the bill was paid. God woke me up at 1:08 am to get rid of anything left in my possession connected with the shelter. Now, I am left with my black slacks, black patent leather pumps, black stretch tank top, and skinny black belt- all of which I must dispose once I leave because I had them at the shelter; my suit; my trench coat; dress boots and rain boots; a sweater my sister gave me but I never wore; two summer shirts; and my carry-on suit case and business tote that I came here with and must also dispose as soon as I leave. He even had me to check my email. There was a Facebook friend request from an ex from 14 years ago. "Delete. You cannot move forward with anything from your past- distant past and Rhode Island past. The name of this vision quest is: You Can't Take It With You. If you want what I have in store for you, if you want to enter into that new realm, do not hesitate to eliminate everything that I select for you. Do not hesitate. Clean it out now." As I type this now from my phone, I know that I must throw out the slacks, tank, and belt. All I will have to walk out of here wearing is my suit. I am getting lightheaded from the fasting. I will post an update when I can. I don't know what God has

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Packed and ready to go

2011-05-09T12:38:00.001-05:00

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Week 28 – Walking in the shoes of the homeless and unemployed

11:04am

When I awoke this morning, God immediately had me to pack the rest of my things. He instructed me to leave out a change of clothes; pack the rest. I tossed more clothes, too. Now, I am literally down to my suit, a pair of dress pants and jacket, a pair of casual pants, three summer shirts, three lightweight sweaters, three tank tops, my leather jacket, rain coat, Gortex shell jacket, a pair of dress boots, rain boots, patent leather pumps, flip-flops, and undergarments. Everything else is gone. Gone are the sneakers Mom sent that I bought in Mexico during that time of drama. Gone are my dressy/casual walking shoes which have carried me all over Newport and Providence. Basically, just about everything that I came here with at the start of this journey or that I acquired here to sustain me is gone—down to the hangers, cleaning and laundry supplies, my new bedding (egg crate, sheets, pillow, bedspread), and my new exfoliating bath gloves. Gone! It cannot go forward with me or rather I cannot move forward with it.

And the cleaning. After packing and tossing, God had me to clean the room from top to bottom. I cleaned out all cabinets including shelves, doors, and handles. I cleaned out the refrigerator which was simple since I only have one and half bags of frozen vegetables in there, a corner of salad dressing, and half a container of cream cheese. I scrubbed down the shelves in the room and in the bathroom. I performed my customary hand-scrubbing of the floor since I never had a spare $2 to buy a mop.

I felt like I suddenly walked into a Jason Bourne movie, and we had to wipe the place down. In that moment, God spoke to me: “In a sense, that is exactly what you are doing. You are cleaning the place of your energy. Leave no trace of “you” behind. It is to set the space for the next tenant, yes, but it is primarily to clean your energetic space to move on. If there is a trace left behind, you will see things manifesting in your life that will pull you back. I will not allow that to happen. Thus, I am instructing you as such. After you finish cleaning, pack up your laptop and monitor and go sign a 30-day vacate notice at the office. Be ready so that you don’t have to get ready.”

With that said, I should hop to it.

1:17pm

OMG. These people are unbelievable. A staff person saw me putting out all of my things in the lounge area. By the time I made it downstairs to the office, everyone else already knew.

“Sapphire, are you moving?” the front office manager asked.

“Sapphire, I need to speak with you,” the executive director beckoned with her finger curling for me to come her direction. “You will receive notice that your unit was randomly selected for inspection on May 16. You don’t have to be there. Just make sure that it is meticulously cleaned.”

I just stared her, not so much in disbelief, but still with an OMG attitude. “It’s already done and cleaned out,” I retorted, thinking honey, God is twelve steps ahead of you.

“Perfect.”

I signed the vacate notice and put May 23, 2011 as my move out like God instructed. How is my room suddenly randomly selected for inspection after being here for six months? The executive director hasn’t said as much as two words to me, but suddenly she’s the one who must give me notice about this surprise inspection. I do not understand why none of these people who I have dealt with since entering this situation on October 29, 2010 can let me be in peace.

Anyway, this is why I follow God’s directives to the letter without hesitation. I didn’t know why He told me to scrub the place down this morning, but He knew. He knew what reaction I would face once they found out that I would be moving. He does not want me bowing down to anyone but Him. He will never put me in a situation where someone else has ultimate authority over me. Only He reigns as my ruler. The room is meticulously clean not because she told me to but because God instructed me to.

I am very grateful that I have had a place to sleep throughout this 28-week journey. But I would be remiss if I did not express the profound joy I feel knowing that I finally be out of there and completely separated from these people. All of their actions that I cannot understand are precisely why the Bill of Rights for the Homeless must be passed. I will continue to follow God as He leads me on the movement to ensure that happens.

Opportunity to Celebrate

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The Countdown: Transitioning out of homelessness

2011-05-08T15:46:00.001-05:00

Week 28: Walking in the shoes of the homeless and unemployed

Well, this is it. God told me on April 26 that I was moving out of this 8’ x 12’ transitional housing room on May 23rd. The happenings of the days that followed confirmed that message.

On Monday May 2nd, I found out that my food stamp allotment had run out on April 30 and that they’ve closed my account. I had absolutely nothing in my space-saver refrigerator, and my empty stomach was growling at me. “God, what am I going to do now?”

“Take one more leap of faith with me, Sapphire.”

A tingling sensation floated throughout my being like sparkling fairy dust. “Okay. I can do that. Just tell me what to do. What’s the plan?”

“Do not reapply for food stamps. Cut up the card. Then, take the trash bag out of your room. From this moment on, you are done. You are out. You cannot take any remnants of your time here forward with you.”

“And how am I to eat?”

“Fast. Fast until I make other provisions. You will never feel hunger or lack. I need you to fast in order to be completely pure to receive my directions for moving out. I need you to be extremely close to me during this transition. I need to be able to flow through you without any impediments. Can you do that for me?”

“Yessir, I can.”

The next day, I learned that I will receive an eviction notice on May 17^th because I have no money to pay the $25 rent for this transitional housing room. God’s response? “When you move, they will take May’s rent out of your deposit. Do not accept the remainder of the deposit. Leave it there and instruct them to use it to pay towards someone else’s rent. You cannot take any remnants of your time here forward with you.”

Throughout the remaining days of this past week, I have not felt hunger although I have sustained myself on only 2-3 cups of vegetables and a gallon of water per day. Yet, the greatest confirmation came yesterday at the Annual Breakfast for the NAACP Providence Branch. In attendance was one of the staff members from the Providence shelter who treated me as if I had no value and no worth as a person. Instead of helping me as she was hired to do, she tried to play God. She tried to “put me in my place.” Her dismissive and condescending actions, demeanor, and tone of voice said, “You are homeless now, so you better take whatever I throw your way.” I don’t think so, and I told her as much. Yesterday, God showed her exactly what I was talking about.

She had to watch as I took the stage with the other Executive Committee members and was publicly sworn-in. She had to watch as I was congratulated by the elected officials in attendance. She had to sit and listen to me as I took the stage again as Chair of the Membership Committee and speak to the audience about our vision for growing the Association. No other member of the Branch addressed the audience but the president and me. I stood in the back of the room throughout the celebration where she sat just two tables away. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her just staring at me. I can only guess at what she was thinking. But I certainly know what I was thinking. “I told you. I told you who I was, the truth about who I was and how I came to be in this situation—following God. I told you. And now you see. You tried to use your position to hold me down, to hold me back, to diminish my light. But you couldn’t. You cannot douse this fire that God put within me. As long as I follow Him and keep my faith in Him above all else, that flame will burn bright.” Yesterday, it did.

I must admit that later in the afternoon various emotions snaked out from the pit of my stomach. I felt vindicated after all that I have experienced throughout this 28-week, 192-day, twisted journey. Then, I felt sad because it’s a sensation that many people experiencing homelessness may never feel if they surrender to the psychological master-slave treatment and just accept being relegated to the system for the rest of their lives. Then, gratitude swelled within to the point of spilling out through my eyes and leaping out in audible gasps as I tried to breathe through the tears.

But for God, I wouldn’t have made it this far. If God had not given me the strength and provided me with family and true friends to offer support and encouragement during my lowest moments, I would not have made it. I would not have made it through to see this other side. I could have gotten lost in the dreariness and hopelessness of it all as so many others do. But, I did not. God brought me to it, and He brought me through it. He kept his promise. He never left me as long as I never left Him. He sent me to Rhode Island to find the need and fill it. In order to discover the need for a Bill of Rights for the Homeless, I had to live it authentically. And because I have landed on solid ground after taking this huge leap of faith, I am absolutely, 100% certain that there is nothing I cannot overcome or achieve with God. I don’t know what will happen on May 23^rd, but I certainly have no fear, no worries.

Opportunity to Celebrate

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Finding Home

2011-05-08T15:44:00.001-05:00

Week 26: Walking in the shoes of the homeless and unemployed

It has been months since I have last written in my journal. For the past week, I have written a couple of notes in a hard cover journal but the written thoughts have been quiet. I understand why—God has moved my station and I just needed to be present in that. He just stopped my yoga routine and told me to finish it through writing:

“Sapphire, your journey of suffering is complete. You will be moving out of the transitional room in May – May 23rd to be exact. Please apply for the Leadership and Advocacy Training this weekend. I have had to keep you in these living conditions for you to learn many great truths about yourself and to open doors that might otherwise be closed to you. You know why I am moving you now, don’t you? Because this morning—and yesterday was the first day— but really this morning I saw it in your heart and in your eyes and in the glow of your spirit. I am moving you because you have finally found YOUR HOME.

It is not a place. It IS where the heart is as everyone says. It IS where I am as everyone has been saying. But those words don’t make sense for you. But now knowing the truth, it does, doesn’t it? YOUR HOME IS YOUR TRUTH. Period. When you are fully living in your truth—in the full light of it, in the splendor of your gifts, in the uncompromising nature of your personal being and your spiritual being—you are standing in your home. You have finally ACCEPTED that you ARE an author and a screenwriter. That has been your dream long before you realized it. But, in high school and college, people attacked your work when you were just starting to realize that writing was your love. Don’t you realize that people will always attack your truest and greatest gifts? When they do, and when you stand firm, that is when you have reached home. You are home. You have finally found your home, what home authentically means for you. You have affirmed that home. You have stood up for that home. You have protected your home through me rather than by your own hand and your own will. That is why I will now move you.

And you will move, just as Dr. Cindy said at the revival—from homeless to a mansion with no mortgage. Top floor remember, no one above you, view of the ocean. It is done and arranged. I love you. Write until 6:45am. It is all taken care of. I love you and I am so proud of you.”

Opportunity to Celebrate

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Letter to NAACP-Providence Branch President

2011-05-08T15:38:00.001-05:00

Week 13: Walking in the shoes of the homeless and unemployed

Today, I sent the following letter to the President Jim Vincent of the NAACP-Providence Branch. It outlines some of the incidences of maltreatment I experienced and observed during my 40 days in the Providence homeless shelter.

Dear Mr. President,

As a long-time admirer of the outstanding work the NAACP has done over the years, I enjoyed having the opportunity to see how you function from the inside. As you indicated during the General Body meeting, the challenges facing our citizens today require leaders who have a fresh perspective of the issues and who offer and pursue with passion the successful implementation of solutions so that the NAACP can continue to serve effectively.

Therefore, please accept this proposal as my self-nomination for Chair of the Education Committee and for Community Education Leader of a new movement to train homeless men and women to advocate for their right to fair, humane treatment and equal protections under the law.

As you know, God asked me to move to Newport on a leap of faith with no money, no job, no housing. He specifically told me that there existed a great community problem for which He would show me the definitive solution. Given my lack of resources, I had to check into a Providence shelter. God kept me at Crossroads for exactly 40 days and 40 nights during which time I experienced and witnessed other residents being subjected to an established course of maltreatment at the hands of the staff and security personnel hired to advocate for us and keep us safe. I have published many of the details on the Coalition’s Walk a Week in Your Shoes.com campaign website.

In short, I observed how the peculiar institution of slavery is alive and thriving amongst this vulnerable population where service providers reign as their masters and the homeless passively submit as their mental slaves. Just as new prisoners must yield their material possessions, shelter residents are required to check their dignity, self-respect, self-confidence, self-determination, recovery from life challenges, past successes, and future dreams at the door upon intake. Just as prisoners are locked away in a tiny cell, staff attempt to place residents into a box of inferiority via the pre-defined categories they assume best describe all homeless individuals—addict, mentally ill, disabled, no high school diploma, etc. I say attempt because I refused to be put in any box other than the box of humanity.

If ”the Negro“ were replaced by “the Homeless” in the book Where Do We Go From Here: Chaos or Community?, Dr. King would be describing the current state of oppression of the homeless—and the solution. He recounts the five steps slave-owners followed to “train” a good slave. First, as one master said, “The slave must know that his master is to govern absolutely and he is to obey implicitly, that he is never, for a moment, to exercise either his will or judgment in opposition…” For example, Case Advocates regularly miss or show up extremely late for appointments with their homeless clients. Oftentimes, they are present in the office and simply choose not to see their client. Whenever residents speak in opposition, the staff responds with elevated hostility and a flippant attitude of, “That’s life. Deal with it.” They established a sense of if you want your needs met to get out of here, you have to wait on me. They established a sense of almighty power. The verbal attacks by the guards which I personally endured also attempted to poise them as my ruler and to put me in my place. When I refused to submit or be intimidated, I was repeatedly called the devil, a troublemaker, high maintenance, or prodded about being too good for them.

Second, the masters implanted a “consciousness of personal inferiority” which was ”deliberately extended to his past” to make slaves “feel that African ancestry tainted them, that their color was a badge of degradation.” During my initial intake, the Case Advocate asked if I currently had any mental health, addictions, disabilities, or domestic violence issues. When I negated all of the above and stated that I was simply unemployed, she asked if I had ever been depressed or the like. I answered truthfully about my past traumas which led to depression, alcoholism—for which I am now 10 years sober—and suicide attempts 14 years ago. She immediately marked my intake form with ”long term mental illness, suicide ideation.”No indication on alcoholism. When I told her that did not accurately describe my current experience, that I have actually made a living helping others to heal based upon my healing journey, she refused to correct the form. I did not want to escalate the situation because I needed a place to sleep. However, I knew my present truth. My spirit stood firm in the beauty of that truth and, in that moment, I knew that this must be part of God’s plan. Each time the Case Advocate met with me thereafter to complete my referral to the HPRP program, she instead tried to make me get a mental health diagnosis so that she could place me in Riverwood.

The final three steps of the training process described by Dr. King are “to awe the slaves with a sense of the masters’ enormous power,” to make the slaves accept without question “the master’s criteria of what was good and true and beautiful,” and “to impress Negroes with their helplessness: to create in them a habit of perfect dependence upon their masters.” Just nine days after arriving at Crossroads and experiencing this disheartening treatment firsthand, God gave me the vision to draft a Bill of Rights for the Homeless. Five days later, He led me to a community forum on homelessness in Newport where I spoke about this vision. Former Congressman Bud Cicilline approached me afterward and pledged his support. The following week, I researched, wrote, and submitted the bill to Mr. Cicilline. He immediately forwarded it to President of the Senate Teresa Paiva Weed. Two weeks later, I met with him and Deb Johnston, the executive director of the McKinney shelter in Newport. After hearing my story and the leap of faith that led me here, Ms. Johnston offered me a room in one of their transitional housing units. After 40 days and 40 nights at Crossroads, I finally left for Newport—God’s original destination for me. Through my dependence upon and strength in God, my true master, I got out. Some of my roommates at the shelter who believe they must wait on the Case Advocates to complete much needed paperwork and provide referrals are still there.

Interestingly, a few weeks later, the HPRP Case Manager at Crossroads contacted me and offered me the opportunity to participate in the program. Initially, she agreed that I could find my own apartment in Newport. However, after the HPRP Housing Locator decided that I should live in an apartment on her housing list in a low-income area, she refused to return my phone or email messages. Instead of allowing her to have the final say over my life, I contacted her supervisor after 48 hours passed without a response from her. They called a surprise meeting between the HPRP Housing Locator, two Case Managers, and I where they insisted they would help me if I moved to an apartment they chose for me in East Providence. I respectfully declined citing that I was already established in Newport and had several community commitments on the Newport County Reentry Council, Social Action Committee of a local church, and as a fundraiser for the McKinney shelter. I also told them that spiritually Newport was my home. They transferred my case to the HPRP administrators in Middletown. A shelter roommate who has fallen under this spell of helplessness and non-responsiveness by the Housing Locator still resides in the shelter.

Just like Dr. King, God has called me to fight the discriminatory practices and abuses levied against the homeless as an oppressed minority of our community. As a solution, the homeless “must unite for political action to compel the majority to listen,” to quote Dr. King. The day after the General Body meeting, I awoke with God’s vision for the Community Education proposal which follows. Although the jail cells have been replaced by check boxes of inferiority and billy clubs replaced by psychological beatings, the fight to free the voiceless and the powerless in our community remains the same. I have committed to God and commit to the NAACP to lead and finish this fight.

Very respectfully,

Sapphire Jule King, M.A.Ed.

Founder-International Freedom Coalition

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Tonight: Ms. King's Explosive Radio Interview

2011-03-30T11:59:00.001-05:00

God's Modern Day Millionaires Talk Show with Dr. Gregg will feature Ms. Sapphire Jule King tonight.

Episode Topic

"God loves the Homeless"

Episode Description

Our guest Ms. Sapphire Jule King will share how she went from homelessness to being elected Assistant Secretary of the Executive Committee for a very large Civil Rights organization in just a few months. Ms. King will share how she obeyed the voice of God to leave her home, family, friends and business to go to a city where she knew no one. In doing so she ended up homeless during one of the worst financial meltdowns the US has ever experienced. What would you do? Tune in to find out what she did.

Audience Access

Call in #: (714) 464-4846
Listen: online
Day:      March 30, 2011
Time:       5:30-6:00pm (CST)
                6:30-7:00pm (EST)

Audience Questions

Click Send Message under Dr. Gregg's show profile to submit any questions you would like him to ask Ms. King.

About the Show
Empowering listeners to live their Dreams during hard times. "Making a difference in the lives of suffering humanity."

Dr. Gregg's God's Modern Day Millionaires is a daily Devotional and talk show that showcases Market Place Leaders. These Leaders are committed to using their time, talent and treasures to make a difference for the less fortunate in urban and rural communities around the world. This talk show was created to showcase how they are making a difference as they eradicate systemicpoverty, to feed the hungry and create affordable housing, take care of the orphans, provide a better quality of life for the hopeless and homeless everywhere. "Making a difference in the lives of suffering humanity".

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Feeling Unsafe and Unprotected: Has God Abandoned Me?

2011-01-26T13:33:00.001-06:00

Day 17: Walking in the shoes of the homeless and unemployed

I am afraid to go to sleep—especially in the room. I think Roommate from Hell is off her rocker, and I don’t feel safe. Out of all the people I’ve been around and interacted with, I don’t feel safe for the first time since I’ve been here. I feel like God is not protecting me. I’m simply doing His work and all I’m getting is attacked. No peace. I don’t want to be here anymore. I don’t want to do this anymore. As soon as mom can give me more money in two weeks, I’m buying a ticket back to Houston. I’d much rather sit there and go crazy than be forced to stay up all night long because I don’t feel safe. God is not protecting me anymore, and I don’t understand why. I shouldn’t feel any fear. I came here for peace—not trouble, not drama.

I took a HUGE, HUGE leap of faith, and it’s about to get me killed. God, I don’t feel safe and protected. Why have you abandoned me after I’ve followed your word and your directions to the letter? This is not fair. You are not living up to your end of the bargain.

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Not Yielding to Opposition

2011-01-26T13:21:00.001-06:00

Day 16: Walking in the shoes of the homeless and unemployed

Today has been a hell-a-shish day. Two phrases: “Hippie Chick” and “Roommate from Hell”.

Hippie Chick

First, I went to the Newport Police Department to ask if we needed a permit for the Party in the Park. One the officers “believed so” and strongly advised that I go to city hall on Monday morning to find out. When I called Hippie Chick to tell her, she went AWOL on me.

“I wish you would have called me before you went down there, Sapphire. I could have told you what they were going to say. This is what I’m saying. You can’t do anything by following the system. You have to go outside of the system. There are ways around it. There’s been a book written about how to get around it. I’ve done this for years. I’ve been very successful at this in Florida and when the police show up we just—” I had to cut her off.

I explained that I believed we had two different agendas. My purpose for the project was to garner the dignified treatment and respect from the community that the homeless deserved. My focus was on the homeless men and women. Hers seemed to be more about bucking the system. I also told her that the Coalition and its name and reputation were not mine to gamble with. “The Coalition is God’s organization to which He appointed me as its earthly director. This is not the direction He wants me to pursue. Personally, as Sapphire Jule King the individual, it’s not something that I want to pursue either. I don’t have anything else to prove to the world. So, we will have to wait a week before we do the project.”

“But we already have these vendors who are excited about the project and are ready to help,” Hippie Chick retorted.

“And that’s great. I’m sure they will understand when we tell them that we have to wait to get a permit. I’m sure they won’t want their names attached to an unlawful project that requires police action to disband.”

Hippie Chick wouldn’t hear of it. She tried again to convince me—or perhaps bully me into believing— that this was the right course of action to take. “Not for the Coalition, it isn’t,” I simply stated. “If you are concerned about losing the vendors’ interest and since you’ve had success with this in the past as you’ve stated, you are more than welcome to hold the event tomorrow as planned on your own. Please just remove the Coalition’s name from any promotional material.”

She didn’t want to obtain a permit. She wanted to hold the event without the permit or not at all. “So, I guess this is it then,” she flared. Hippie Chick said her goodbyes and angrily wished me well in my future work. Click.

Roommate from Hell

Then, I return the shelter only to have one my roommates to go AWOL on me when I told her that God instructed me to buy my newest two homeless friends (and stars of the documentary) food on my EBT card. She accused me of not giving genuinely, that I gave out of guilt. She conveniently launched this verbal assault after I stood up to her on behalf of our newest roommate. Now, this is a woman who has repeatedly talked about how she allowed her ex-boyfriends to live and who repeatedly threatens to cut or stab people.

The Vocational Services rep here at the shelter just told me on Friday that “people might be jealous” and warned “don’t let them get you into trouble.” One of my other roommates who witnessed this episode even told me that Roommate from Hell was just jealous of me. Why is this happening?

God’s Response

“Because there are dark forces and light forces. Darkness is attracted to the light. Keep walking with me. Keep walking in me. It’s just dark energy trying to get you off course. Trying to throw you off track. Sapphire, I’m trying to prepare you. Now that you are completely humble, completely open and accepting, I am telling you that you now have to be VERY selective with the company you keep and who you are seen with. This is super important for your work. You’ve gotten the same feeling with both of them (Hippie Chick and Roommate from Hell). Trust it and know what it is. You are being ushered into a selective inner circle—going into a different lion’s den in order to do the life-changing work that I now want you to do. It’s a different ball game, but you’re learning.”

I know what I do, I do from my heart. I acknowledge my shortcomings publicly and learn from them. I know the voice of God when I hear it. I know and trust my God.

“Sapphire, ignore what she said. She’s just jealous as has been revealed to you. You can see it in her eyes when you tell her about your day. She sees the people you are meeting and the progress you have made in two weeks and it brings up the feelings of inadequacy in herself. YOU ARE SAFE. YOU ARE PROTECTED ALWAYS. NEVER WORRY. I KNOW IT’S HARD BEING SENT ON THE INSIDE BUT YOU ARE SAFE.”

Yes, but this what I asked you not to do. I don’t want to be everyone’s punching bag.

“THIS IS THE WAY IT IS WHEN YOU ALLOW ME TO LIVE WITHIN YOU.”

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Reflecting: The Quiet Life or the Crusade?

2011-01-26T12:45:00.001-06:00

Day 15: Walking in the shoes of the homeless and unemployed

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I am in a completely inward, reflective mood. I returned to Newport today for a meeting with a professional contact and then with Hippie Chick to discuss a possible collaboration between her organization and the Coalition. I was also to call Victorian Lady afterward to finalize my new living arrangements and move-in date.

Sitting in People’s Cafe, Hippie Chick and I talked about the need for society to view the homeless as human beings instead of social outcasts. We both feel that these men and women should be viewed and treated with dignity and respect. Love. How could we dramatize it publicly? A “party” in the park!

Party in the Park, for me, is to be a meet and greet event where all are invited to share food and friendship with our homeless community members. I suggested this Sunday from 2-4pm in Touro Park. Hippie Chick flew into full-swing planning mode. She furiously typed down ideas as quickly as she spurted them out. “We need a table, coffee, soup, and flyers. I can make the soup. Plastic bowls, cups, silverware. Maybe we can get these people to donate the cups and coffee. We don’t need any napkins. That produces more trash. They’re homeless. They just wipe their mouths on their sleeves and their hands on their pants anyway,” she whizzed out in what seemed like a nanosecond.

I, on the other hand, had gone into a state of spiritual, mental, and emotional shut down. Doing so was the only way I could remain present in her chaotic energy. Plus, some of her comments did not sound very loving or dignified. God just instructed me to remain still and observe.

“Do we need a permit to do this in that park being that the Newport Tower is there?” I inquired.

“Oh, there are ways around that,” Hippie Chick quipped. “We don’t have to put up a table. We could just put the food in bags…” she suggested, “and hand the bags out to them [in a more covert manner]. Why shouldn’t we be able to feed people in a park?” Here was the start of her rant against the system. She believes that you cannot work with the system to obtain the right to do something as simple as having a community gathering. She feels that you have to fight the system—buck the system—to expose its cracks and turn everything up on end.

Hmmm, God, I don’t know about this, I thought. “Just be still and listen,” he instructed.

Hippie Chick spoke with a coffeehouse worker—who may have been the manager; I’m not sure—and secured their agreement to donate cups and coffee. Towing a stack of paper cups nearly as tall as me, we left for Panera Bread to get a pledge for food donations. “Let her speak,” God whispered in my ear. “Just observe.” I obeyed.

She explained our plans to the manager. “Would you be willing to donate your trash that you have left at the end of the day? We could come pick it up,” she stated with a comfortable fluidity. The manager quite genuinely said that he’d be happy to provide us with an array of unsold bagels and pastries from the previous day. Hippie Chick followed with, “Will it come in a trash bag?” as she made a gesture like she was holding a bag.

“No!” the manager gently retorted. “We will place them in one of our baker’s boxes as we would for any other customer. We believe that the food should be displayed and served in a dignified manner. If you ever receive something from us that isn’t appropriately packaged, please let me know.” He added that the company felt very strongly about helping those less fortunate while still being respectful of them as people. However, after we left and Hippie Chick celebrated this victory of a firm commitment to receiving “their trash”, I was not so sure that she held the homeless in the same regard.

Soon, Hippie Chick turned this simple party of appreciation into an outright crusade. She basically started planning a soup kitchen that I was to run and maintain because she was leaving Newport in a couple of weeks. “You can get the local grocer to give you their trash. You can get a car and go pick up all the food. You could stockpile the food in your house. You can use it to make the soup…”

NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. That is not why I moved here. That’s not why I am moving to Newport. Newport is my safe haven, my peace, my grounding, my get away, MY FAMILY. I didn’t come here to run all over the place, to buy a car and have to drive, to be a rebel, to prove a point. I came here to start a family. My “job” and my community work will have to respect that family space and time. Hippie Chick asked what I was doing for Thanksgiving because she was going to be spending it alone. I told her that’s the exact reason why I am seeking a new direction in my life and a new balance with my career/community pursuits. I’m tired of being alone because I’m living the cause.

I think I was feeling some of that today even before I met with her. After I left my meeting with the professional contact, I bought a sandwich and walked Cliff Walk from Memorial Boulevard to Home—the house that God “gave” me during my first trip to Newport last year. I sat there and just melted into the bench while I ate the sandwich. I actually took my time eating, savoring every bite. I was in heaven. I remembered as I walked, I looked at those houses and said to myself well, I guess I won’t have that secluded, quiet life as I thought I would. No just writing and watching the ocean. I mean, there’s a Homeless Bill of Rights I have to get passed.

I think it was also telling what the community leader, with whom I had tea last week, said to me. “In this work, you’re going to be alone when you are on 20 different community boards.” I see what God is asking me. Choose: Family or Being the Most Connected, Most Powerful, Most Sought After person in the community. I want a family. I want peace. I want stillness. The Party in the Park is wonderful, but that’s as far as it goes. I don’t feel the need for power, recognition, or applause anymore. I’m happy being behind the scenes. I don’t need to be the most connected person. God, I just want a husband, some children, and some peace.

Oh, before I forget, I made several calls to Victorian Lady as we planned. However, the call immediately rolled over to voice mail as if her phone were turned off. I left one message when I first called at the agreed upon time but didn’t leave any others. I suppose this means she has changed her mind.

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Am I Finally Leaving the Shelter? (Exhale)

2011-01-22T13:45:00.001-06:00

Day 15: Walking in the shoes of the homeless and unemployed

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I am in a complete inward, reflective mood. I have to write about the serendipity of yesterday’s events…

Standing at the window bearing the flyer for the documentary screening, I quickly jotted down the venue and address. The name of the street rang a bell, but I needed to find out exactly where it was. As I walked back up the street toward the police station, these two gentlemen were looking in my direction, more curious than anything. I reached them and asked if they knew the address. “Are you going to see the film?” the elderly Black guy inquired.

Before I had a chance to respond, his shorter Caucasian friend with the cane added, “They are showing a film there tonight about the homeless in Newport. We’re the stars in it.”

“Really?” I smiled. “Right on! I just saw the flyer for it in the window. I had only read about it but was bummed because I missed the showing of it before I came to the state.” They told me where the church was located and said they’d see me there. I now had six hours to kill. I passed some time writing in a tea shop before walking along Cliff Walk. I needed to be near the ocean. I needed the smell of it to wake me out of my lonely, walking slumber. I needed the sound of it to replace the echoes of hate and indifference from the shelter with its clapping sounds of joy and welcoming. I needed the deep, electric blue of it to recharge my spiritual, mental, and emotional batteries. I needed the cool, energy of it to hold me in warm peace and serenity. I needed the vast, limitlessness of it to carry me away, allow me to let go.

Feeling more centered, more grounded, more connected with God, I left for the church. A lovely woman welcomed me at the entrance to the small parish hall and invited me to help myself to the array of refreshments. Tea. I needed tea as I was near frozen from the falling temperatures outside. Another lady from the church introduced herself to me and inquired as to how I learned about the event. I told her and expressed my desire to learn if anyone in this state ever proposed a bill of rights for the homeless. She said she had never heard of such an action but strongly suggested that I speak about it during the Q&A after the screening. We settled into our seats, the lights dimmed, and the documentary started. Soon after, my two new friends and stars of the film arrived and sat behind me.

The film shed much needed light on the plight of the homeless in Newport. I had no idea people were sleeping in graveyards. In fact, it’s one of the more “popular” places for them to sleep. For the life of me, I cannot understand why. I actually do not understand a lot of the day-to-day struggles they endure although I am certainly beginning to learn. My heart just hurts for them.

After the film, the producers Jimmy Winters and Al Angel were introduced and spoke their words of thanks. Then, the questions began. I waited patiently as others were called to stand up at their seats and ask the panel their burning questions. Finally, I was called to not only stand up but to also come to the front of the room with the panelists to pose my question. I introduced myself as the founder of the Coalition who has worked in the community with disadvantaged families including the homeless for more than eight years. I explained that I moved here on a leap of faith to undertake a spiritual mission which landed me in a shelter. Faces in the audience contorted into various expressions of confusion and surprise.

“The treatment that I am experiencing and which I am observing other residents experience has led me to propose a bill of rights for the homeless such as that passed by the House of Representatives in Illinois. If an organization is working on something like this, I would like join forces. If not, I am willing to get it started.” Before I could return to my seat, several people stopped me with information, suggestions, and offers to help.

After the forum adjourned, a gentleman came up to me, gave me his card, and said, “Let me know when you’re ready to move on this thing. I’m a former congressman and I know most of those guys up there.” More people came up to me. Some had the same reaction as the Window Man and the lady from earlier in the day. “Please don’t tell me you’re in [shelter name]? Are you still there?”

One very nice lady offered me a room in her home! I told her I had to come back to Newport for a meeting tomorrow. “Perfect, call me. It’s just me. I live in a nice, old Victorian. I have arthritis so maybe you can help me around the house. Call me and we’ll get you moved and settled.” She wrote her name and address on the back of my business card and gleefully announced to several friends, “Sapphire is going to come stay with me for a little while.”

Another young lady came up and introduced herself as someone who is presently interning at the shelter. “I know what you are talking about. I see it, too,” she said. She, too, is aware of how staff and security personnel are treating the residents. Perhaps she sees the truth because she is just getting into the work—is still fresh, new, and untrained in the ways of the system there. She left and another artsy, hippie type young woman took her place. Her work focused on ending child trafficking; she proposed that perhaps our organizations could collaborate on a project.

“Sure,” I exclaimed in an understated tone. I was just overwhelmed by this point. My goose was cooked. Hippie Chick drove me to the transit station and waited with me until the bus back to Providence arrived. I boarded. My phone rang a few moments later. It was the Victorian Lady. She asked me more questions about what I had and what I needed—winter clothes, shoes, etc. She assured me that they would be able to get me a bed for the room, as it was empty, and anything else I would need.

When I hung up the phone, I exhaled. Finally, God is getting me out of this place.

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Being Led to Make a Difference

2011-01-22T13:31:00.001-06:00

Day 14: Walking in the shoes of the homeless and unemployed

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Man, oh man. I arrived about 45 minutes early for my informational interview at Portsmouth Abbey School. To say I learned a lot would be an understatement, and it will help shape the work of the IFC here. The director with I met confirmed that Newport public schools need help. He also gave me some great information about other programs that have been successful in helping inner city youth get into independent schools (boarding and day schools) and then into college. Somehow, this is what the Coalition will be doing.

I had already planned to come to Newport afterward and just enjoy the energy. When I got off the bus at the transit center, this guy seated on one of the benches says, “There you are. I remember you!” I looked at him but did not immediately recognize him. He told me that he saw me here last winter wearing the same coat and a backpack. I teased him about washing windows in the cold.

“Oh, yeah! Now, I remember,” I chuckled, still a bit in shock. We went into the little café inside the station. He bought me hot cocoa and (my favorite) a pumpkin muffin. We talked and talked about my visit last year and what brings me back this year—permanently. Another lady joined entered the station and joined in on our conversation. The Window Man started telling about various agents to visit for locating an apartment. They both suggested that I visit Housing Hotline and Jimmy Winters. Jimmy Winters? Why do I know that name? Ah, the documentary I read about while researching at the State House. The police officer who is a huge advocate for the homeless!

The lady took her leave as her bus had arrived. So, I asked the Window Man if he could introduce me to Mr. Winters. He said, “Sure! He’s on duty right now but we are sure to cross his path.”

We boarded the trolley and headed for the police station. The Window Man showed me where the Housing Hotline office was located just around the corner, and off I went. I perused the various flyers donning the windows for a number that I could call. That’s when I saw it. They are showing the You Can Make a Difference documentary TODAY at 7:00 pm with a talkback afterwards with the producers! Surely, Mr. Winters is bound to be there. I am going. Screw curfew. I will call them and tell them I will be back at the shelter at 11 pm or so due to a community meeting.

I am sooooo being led! When the Window Man and the other lady heard that I was in a Providence shelter, they were appalled. In near unison they exclaimed, “Please don’t tell me you’re at [shelter name]!” The lady went on and on about the drugs there—using and dealing. “How can you stay at that place? How can you stand it?”

Yes, I knew God put me in this situation to help and make a difference. I never would have done this willingly—gone so far ‘undercover’ this willingly. I just have to be strong. I am fulfilling my purpose. I am quickly becoming aware of the issues.

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Sleep as a Luxury

2011-01-22T13:20:00.001-06:00

Day 13: Walking in the shoes of the homeless and unemployed

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12:32am

I can’t go to sleep! I am so tired and so sleepy. The lack of sleep hit me like a freight train at 3:30pm today. All I could envision was a hot shower and the bed.

I finally met with a local community leader today (technically yesterday). It occurred just as God told me on November 5. The “flurry of activity” was all the cancellations today. First we were supposed to meet around lunch time. Didn’t happen. Then we were supposed to meet a bit later. Didn’t happen. Then, later. Didn’t happen. Finally, we met at 5:30pm. And yes, all did come to a halt—his busy-ness, the completely empty café were we had tea. His birthday is the same as Sal’s which was God’s way of telling me that this is a divine connection. We talked about our backgrounds and possible employment/community opportunities for me. I don’t feel like writing anymore about it because I just want to go to sleep. I ate a granola bar to kill the growling in my stomach to hopefully make falling asleep a little easier.

3:00am

God, why can’t I close my eyes and fall asleep? When I first crawled into bed 2.5 hours ago, I thought about a judge I observed back in Houston—his soothing yet commanding voice, his lion-esque protectiveness over his staff, his encompassing spirit. Maybe that’s what I feel like I need right now but don’t have—protection, comfort. Please cradle me in your warmth and comfort, sooth my mind with your presence. I want to sleep and sleep well. Thank you.

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Overwhelmed by Loneliness

2011-01-22T12:56:00.001-06:00

Day 10: Walking in the shoes of the homeless and unemployed

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November 7, 2010 12:00 pm (DAY 10)

I stayed up as long as I could last night until I knew for sure that I would fall asleep when I hit the bed. Didn’t happen. So, I watched “Gone in 60 Seconds”. Just before I went to sleep, the loneliness overtook me, overwhelmed and flooded me. God told me to say it, feel it, own it. “What do you want?”

In that moment, this fantasy formed in my mind’s crying eyes of my Old Flame calling me, saying that he was coming to Providence. I met up with him, and we spent a fun weekend together. I had no thoughts of the shelter, no thoughts of this work. Just fun. Finally, he said, “Enough is enough. I’m getting you a place to live. I’ll pay for it for a year.”

God immediately interrupted, “What do you want, Sapphire?”

I want a home not a house. I want a family. I don’t want him to swoop in, rescue me, and leave. I want him to stay. I want someone who will stay. I don’t want him to get me out and leave. If he has no intentions to stay, then leave him where he is. I am reminded of a poem I wrote many years ago:

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I am lonely

Though not alone

Never alone –

Caressed to sleep

By Mi Luna

Kissed awake by Mi Sol

What dimensionless love

So willingly answers my call?

At any moment

I can connect

With the love

That guides me

Through my loneliness

Only it’s

that Love

I long to see –

Unblurred in my vision

Ethereally clear

Long to touch –

I can sense it massaging my

Most intimate fears

Long to breathe –

I can feel its breeze

Hovering,

Cleansing me

Of my loneliness

Only it’s

that Love –

That kind of love

I long to receive

Humanly

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So Tired

2011-01-22T12:39:00.001-06:00

Day 9: Walking in the shoes of the homeless and unemployed

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I find myself not wanting to close my eyes and go to sleep. I am so tired. Actually at the end of each night, I’m so tired. But, I don’t want to go to sleep. I’m lonely. I feel so alone. Yes, I’ve made friends here, and I’m getting along with everyone.

“What is it, Sapphire? Tell me. You know what it is,” God whispered.

I want to go home. My home. The home you promised me. I want a home. I want some surety and stability. I want love.

“Say it, Sapphire.”

My Old Flame is coming up. I don’t know why, but he’s coming up in my mind.

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Hold Steadfast

2011-01-22T12:29:00.001-06:00

Day 8: Walking in the shoes of the homeless and unemployed

My good friend Devon sent me a message via Facebook telling me that he was coming to get me. He is in Texas! Devon and I have grown up together and have been buds for going on 30 years. It’s nice to know that I am loved. However, I told him that I was okay, that God was leading me.

Automatic Writing: “Here, Sapphire, this is for you. I know you need to know that I am still with you and leading you. Since you are following me and remaining steadfast as proven by your reply to Devon to not come get you, it’s time for me to give you something. Tuesday. Tuesday. Tuesday. I will appear to you in a flurry of activity. Once the activity stops, completely comes to a halt, you will see me clearly standing before you. You will see him, your destiny, your next step. Take it. Accept it. Do not question, do not hesitate, do not waiver. Take it. Go there. This is the direction I want you to take. Okay? I love you. I am living within you so people are seeing me when they see you. Thank you for helping me to infiltrate the system in an unexpected way. They couldn’t deny me when you walked in in the situation you were in. Now, they cannot deny me because they see you which is just a reflection of me. Be ready. Be ready. Be ready. Trust in me. Hold steadfast and be of service to someone else. I love you. God.”

You know what, God? I’m lonely. In this moment, all I want is companionship, a hug, some comfort, a kiss on the forehead, someone to talk to who cares for and loves me. I just want to curl up into his arms and drift away. No cares. No worries. No work. Just someone to love me.

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Hunger Pangs Trump Pride, Prejudgments

2011-01-18T10:24:00.001-06:00

Day 11: Walking in the shoes of the homeless and unemployed

I’ve just completed and turned in an application for food stamps. One month prior, I would have sat here and formed opinions about each and every one of the people sitting in this waiting area: the young, bald Caucasian guy, maybe mid-20s with the newish, tan, wool-lined leather coat; the elderly, wrinkled-faced Latino-looking male decently dressed; the teenage-looking Latina wearing the latest hip-hop gear; the 30-something Black female with flat-ironed, shoulder length hair, wearing a short, dark brown leather coat and a stylish knit, black beret; the two Black males who are dressed like they just walked off the set of a Snoop Dogg video.

I sit here knowing who I am and knowing why I am here, and I cannot make any pre-judgments about them. I cannot formulate any opinion about why they are applying for assistance based upon their outer appearance. One month ago, I would have guessed they were too lazy to work, too busy going out clubbing, just looking for a free ride. Today, the only thought traipsing through my mind is God bless them.

[A record 38.2 million Americans were enrolled in the food stamp program at latest count, up 246,000 from the previous month and the latest in record-high monthly tallies that began in December 2008. Read more...]

While I was waiting to get my SNAP card, I was filled with God, pull me out, pull me out, pull me out. I wrote on Facebook:

“Ok, God. I am ready for you to pull me out. Not sure how much more I can handle. If there are other lessons that I need to learn, find another way. Otherwise, I am on a plane back to Houston. Not sure I am strong enough for this. Sorry.”

“Sapphire, tell me what you feel. Be honest. Be truthful,” was His response to my plea.

I never saw them. I never saw the people I spent countless volunteer hours and donated dollars to help. I realize now that I subconsciously made prejudgments, unwarranted and possibly inaccurate opinions, and biased deductions about them. I was disconnected from the truth of my constituents. I was out of touch with the realities of their plight. Because I held these masked biases, I couldn’t really help them. These veiled presumptions formed a thin but impermeable barrier between their authentic needs and the solutions I sincerely worked so hard to provide. I can’t help but to wonder if my efforts ever reached the core of their hurts?

Intensive Community Leadership Training

This has been the most intense Community Leadership Training that I’ve ever experienced. The lessons over these past 11 days are bound to change the operational approach and effectiveness of my future work. First and foremost, my constituents need sincere understanding from the person who pledges to help them. Second, they need to be seen for who they are at the core of their spirits rather than on the surface of their appearances, actions, and current circumstances. Third, they need the person called to serve them to look them directly in the eye and verbally acknowledge “I see you, the truth of who you are” rather than solely the bleakness of their plights. Fourth, community leaders, such as I, who are called to serve their identified constituency literally need to walk a week in their shoes—an authentic walk where the urgency of their needs mirror the urgency experienced by their constituents.

Quite frankly, whether or not a person is called to serve the homeless or another disadvantaged group of citizens, their training should take place with the homeless. Just the words “homeless” and “homelessness” seem to automatically activate a scrim of muted misconceptions, biased opinions, and whispered embarrassment. I know my heart. I know that within my heart, I had a sincere desire to help people better their lives with the community work I did prior to arriving in Rhode Island on October 27, 2010. I know in my heart that I have a sincere desire to help people transform their challenges into triumphs going forward from today. Yes, I could identify with my constituents because I overcame many of the challenges they now face. However, being in this situation with all of the successes I have had over the years has raised my caring to higher level of compassion.

I no longer hesitate out of fear to reach out and touch someone in need—literally or figuratively. Fear that I may someday end up in a place that I personally fought so hard to transcend no longer guides even an ounce of my actions. I have faced the fear. I am staring the fear in the face and rejoicing because I know that I can survive. It’s not about me being able to meet them on their level as if they are beneath me. I can now call them to meet me on my level—the highest spiritual level present within all human beings of value. All human beings have value by virtue of being alive. Free from the invisible prejudices, I can now reach out to the Higher Self in each of my constituents and call their blessed spirits to share with me their hurts and needs. I can call to their divine souls to step up and meet me at their highest spiritual level rather than me stepping down to meet them at their socioeconomic level or troubled emotional-mental state. Only in the presence of another’s great spiritual value can community leaders give authentic assistance and their constituents receive authentic relief. Thank you, God, for showing me the light and the way to being your humble and true servant on this Earth for your people.

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Real Hunger

2011-01-18T10:13:00.001-06:00

Day 10: Walking in the shoes of the homeless and unemployed

I have never known real hunger before now. After days of cutting back with no money and no options, the ache woke me up out of my sleep this morning. I waited until about 10 a.m.—so that I would be fuller longer—before I gathered up the microwaveable breakfast my caseworker gave me yesterday. I retrieved a bowl from the cupboard, washed, and dried it. With my items loaded into an eco-friendly recyclable grocery bag, I went downstairs to get a guard to let me into the kitchen to use the microwave as my caseworker instructed. The front desk staff lady emphatically spat, “Oh, no. That isn’t allowed. That’s a big no, no.” I explained what my caseworker told me, but it was of no use. I asked what time my worker was supposed to come in so that I could talk to her. “Ten thirty.”

It was 10:20 a.m. So I waited. And waited. And waited. Finally, at 11 a.m., she told me that she didn’t think my caseworker was coming in today. “But I have a six o’ clock appointment with her this evening.”

She just shrugged with the same nonchalant air exhibited by most of the staff and turned her head. The pain was kicking holes in my stomach. I had to go get something to eat.

This hunger is much different from the many voluntary fasts I’ve been on. It’s the reality of knowing that there are no options, that there is no freedom to just walk into a store and pick up something. I called Mom and had her check my bank account. $52 and some change. After my $40 bill is paid, I would have $12 left to my name. So, I went back upstairs, put everything away, and headed to Cold Stone for my $1.18 muffin.

I still had $2 in cash in my pocket after giving a guy on the street $1 yesterday. He wore a thin coat, looked ragged, and asked for some change. All I had was four one dollar bills to buy my breakfast/lunch muffin for the next three days. So, I gave him $1. Now, all I have is 85¢. What will I do tomorrow? Not sure. I’ll figure something out. For now, I am going to enjoy my pumpkin spice muffin.

Although I have been doing this since I left the hotel, I only just realized that I am eating every single crumb of my food. I mean, I am literally using my fingernails to scrape up the residual muffin left on the baking paper. God spoke to me and told me, “You don’t have to suffer.”

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Vision of Universal Respect

2011-01-18T10:03:00.001-06:00

Day 9: Walking in the shoes of the homeless and unemployed

I’ve been up since about 3:00am, and it just finally hit me—that which is needed. Materializing in my mind’s eye like wisps of smoke, I saw the words Homeless Bill of Rights.

All night I tossed and turned with the guard’s words entwined with my caseworker’s flippant response etching ruts in my mind. Why should their treatment of shelter residents be any different from serving someone in a restaurant? Why must residents approach the counter slightly withdrawn or cowering while the guard carelessly tosses or slaps the food upon the counter? His actions remind me of how my grandmother used to grab a handful of feed from the barrel and scatter it across the lawn with one flick of her wrist. These are not chickens they’re feeding. These are human beings in a vulnerable state who deserve to be treated with the same dignity and respect as anyone else in a commercial establishment.

After only five days of being here, I saw the truth. Since I am looking through God’s eyes rather than the haze of alcohol, drugs, meds, indifference, selfishness, or self-importance, I can see the truth about what’s going on inside these walls. A client asked me the other day if I saw the television commercial for this place. I said no. She snorted, “It’s so degrading.” When I inquired further, she said the commercial portrayed the shelter as clean and inviting when her reality of it is much different. So, from her perspective, it’s degrading because it doesn’t reflect the truth.

Here is the truth. All acts of Congress seem to be limited to housing in terms of the homeless. What about their treatment? Members of the Rhode Island Congress toured this facility not too long ago. Were staff instructed to be on their best behavior, to treat all residents with patience, respect, dignity, and care? Certainly had the lawmakers seen what I’ve seen, something would have been done. Are there no standards, no requirements, or no protocols to guarantee protection from verbal, mental, and emotional abuses within shelter facilities? There should be. God is instructing me to ensure that it happens.

Ergo, I’d like to exercise my First Amendment rights to freedom of speech and to petition the government for a redress of grievances on behalf of all citizens. What is needed is a Homeless Bill of Rights.

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Residents Dissed by Shelter Staff

2011-01-18T09:51:00.003-06:00

Day 8: Walking in the shoes of the homeless and unemployed

Unbelievable. I met with my caseworker today and promptly told her of my experience with the security guard. Instead of addressing the inappropriateness of his comments, she simply shrugged her shoulders and pursed her lips. “Was he kidding? I don’t know what people’s motivations are for saying things.”

Then, she started probing. “He must have triggered something in you. Are you sad? I mean did his comments make you think… uh… like… yeah, maybe I do think… you know… uh… that I’m bette—”

She wouldn’t finish saying it. Perhaps the uncompromising look on my face stopped her from completing her sentence. Did she agree with this guard? Did she condone his behavior? Are you kidding me? She certainly was not expressing any concern for how it made me feel. I felt as if she kept trying to make “something wrong” with me. There’s no other explanation for me being here in this shelter if there isn’t something wrong with me. That keeps them above the residents in some way – at least in their minds. But the truth is they are the same as the residents. They are neither any different nor any better.

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Residents Dissed by Shelter Staff

2011-01-18T09:51:00.001-06:00

Day 8: Walking in the shoes of the homeless and unemployed

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Illuminating My Secret Shame

2011-01-18T09:44:00.001-06:00

Day 7: Walking in the shoes of the homeless and unemployed

Today was my day of enlightenment. While preparing a cover letter for another resume submission, I received a return call from the representative of the State House Public Records. I told her I was trying to find which legislators were champions for the homeless. She said that it was hard to find in that way because they do not have a list of representatives by the causes they support. “You will have to go back a couple of years and search on any legislation dealing with...,” she hesitated and stammered, “…homelessness.”

She promised to walk me through the steps when I return tomorrow. Performing a quick category search, she found nothing under homelessness but did find ‘housing’. “That’s interesting,” she said. That is interesting.

I finished my cover letter and resume to submit for a position in Newport and finally went home today! The revelation that flashed into my head when I crossed over into the city limits will change the trajectory of my life.

I know that the main reason for me being in the shelter—in this homeless situation—is for personal development, for acknowledging the whole of my truth. I have blocked out key moments in my childhood which tap danced around in my mind unrestrained as soon as I entered the free-flowing spirit energy of Newport. My grandmother used to go with her neighborhood friend to collect food thrown out at restaurants and bakeries. Sometimes I would accompany them as they cruised the alleyways, picking up tightly wrapped pastries and breads sitting atop closed trash bins. I blocked out the moment when I took a long swig of cold Kool-Aid only to find a roach floating belly up in it. I haven’t touched the stuff since. I locked away the years of my grandmother bringing back the blocks of “government cheese” or standing in long lines to get the electric bill paid. I’ve shoved the shopping expeditions to Dollar General for school clothes back into the deep corners of my memory and replaced them with Nordstrom sprees. I used to be so self-conscious of the smell as I knew someone would recognize its origin and rat me out. The yearly trips to a church to pick out Christmas gifts have been covered by a blanket of trips through Europe.

When I graduated from college and left Houston in 2000, I was so determined to not return to that city, to certainly not return to that. I was embarrassed by it. My secret shame. However, I must publicize it. Own it. Honor my grandmother for taking my mom, my three siblings and me in and helping us survive. She was surviving. She kept us from having to live on the street or from ever having to step foot in a shelter. Her actions took courage as did my mother’s for accepting the help. My mother could have easily dropped the four of us stairsteps off at my grandmother’s and left in search of a better life—alone. But she didn’t. My grandmother could have likewise turned us away at the door citing the simple fact that she didn’t need the extra burden. But she didn’t. Neither one of these strong women behaved in such a selfish manner.

They both acted out of love and compassion for her children. It didn’t take as much strength for me to leave Houston with a job waiting for me in Phoenix as it did for my mother to return to her mother with four kids in tow because she didn’t have the money to make it on her own. It didn’t take as much strength for me to leave Phoenix for Europe with a bank full of money as it did for my grandmother and my mother to stay committed to providing us kids with a home—a family. That was authentic strength. I honor them for that. I honor and give my deepest gratitude to them both. I only wish I had gained this insight while my grandmother was still alive.

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The Lord Has a Blessing For You

2011-01-18T09:26:00.001-06:00

Day 6: Walking in the shoes of the homeless and unemployed

An interesting thing happened this morning. As I was leaving the shelter to drop off my resume at the ACLU, there was a rather haggard-looking guy walking toward me who was talking to himself. I waited at the corner until he was close enough, then I spoke. He looked up, gave a quick, perfunctory “hi”, walked past me, stopped, turned around, and lit up! The moment felt like the instance when the children placed the magic hat on a pile of snowballs which animated the much beloved Frosty the Snowman. He said, “You know the one thing that’s missing in this world? People don’t know how to have fun anymore. Only children know how to have to fun.”

I agreed with a smile, “You see that, too?!”

His face lit up even more. Through the numerous missing teeth, he hissed out a laugh. “Yes! There’s no more innocence. Adults have lost the innocence of children.” Then, he paused, pointed a shaky finger to his temple. “You know, it was so nice to walk by you and see that beautiful smile of yours.” His finger traced down the length of his nose. “The Lord has a blessing for you. I just know it.” Shaking his head in what seemed like pleasant disbelief, he concluded, “Thank you for making my day.”

“Thank you for making mine,” I proffered with genuine gratitude bubbling up from deep within my spirit and spilling out from my smile, emitting the light of recognition from my eyes. We went our separate ways.

After hand delivering a couple more resumes in downtown Providence, I decided to go to Border’s to look up a couple of books. The library was closed. Walking up the hill to the store, the State House loomed in the background, staring me in the face, and calling to me. A tour, the thought materialized in my mind. I asked the Border’s employee if they allowed the public to walk in and tour. He thought so but wasn’t sure. Carrying on with my original plan, I grabbed a book, sat down on the wooden bench in the center of the aisle, and started reading.

Then, God started flowing. “Go to the State House. Ask for the… champions of the homeless. Ask to meet with the legislators who are the champions of the homeless.”

So, I did. I dropped the book, walked over, entered the building, and removed my shades to face the two security guards. “Hello. I was wondering if you could help me. I was going to research this when I got home, but I was passing by and decided to just stop in and ask. Would you know which legislators are champions of the homeless?”

“For the homeless?” the seated, stocky guard asked.

“Yes.”

“I’m not sure, but I believe Public Records would know.”

“Down in the basement,” the tall, slender standing guard chimed in. “Step this way and I’ll pass you through.”

I placed my business tote on the conveyor belt for scanning, but the guard instructed me to keep my coat on. “Just walk through.” The detector beeped like crazy, but he just waved me on. “You can take the elevators to the right or the stairs on either end.”

So, off I went in search of Room 38 in the basement. Chills shimmered over my body as I passed office door after office door marked Rep. So and So, Committee So and So, Minority Caucus this, and Official that. Finally, I reached my destination alive with wonderment at God’s secret plan. What do you have cooking now, God? The lady behind the desk greeted me with a genuine smile. I introduced myself and stated the nature of my visit. She said that the lady who is usually there is the person I wanted to speak with. She was just filling in but promised to give her my card and have her call me in the morning. On my way out, I picked up some literature and gave myself the guided tour. Only the stocky guard was posted at the entrance. He just stared and smiled at me with a strange look of awe almost as I thanked him and exited the building. My stomach immediately growled and kicked, “Food. Now!”

I came to this little cafe to grab a sandwich where I now sit and write the events of the day. This petite, elderly lady started talking to me shortly after my arrival. Her sunken eyes watered slightly as she spoke, more a physiological response than an emotional one to be sure. Through a concave mouth rimmed with ridged wrinkles, she complimented me on how beautiful I was. Since I was dressed in my black suit, she asked if I worked in an office. In the same breath, she suggested that I should be an actress—I think. Her Polish accent was quite thick. We talked about my European travels and her origins for a few moments. Then she said her goodbyes. The lady stretched her arms up to give me a hug and a kiss on the cheek! When she got outside and passed by the window, she just smiled and waved for a few moments before finally disappearing beyond the glass. The garments she wore showed signs of extensive use. She could have very well been homeless I thought to myself.

Given my experience with the man this morning and now this lady, I can understand why God put me in this homeless situation. I had to be humbled enough to look people in these distressed circumstances directly in the eye. Instead of being embarrassed for them, I needed to simply regard them as human, as myself, as like me. I have opened up so much in the past six days. Maybe that is the blessing God had for me.

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Causing a Stir: Too Good to be Homeless?

2011-01-18T09:11:00.001-06:00

Day 5: Walking in the shoes of the homeless and unemployed

Well, pre-judgments are getting out of hand. Yesterday, the Friendly Security Guard tells me to stay out of trouble. This morning, the vocational services rep at the shelter told me to stay out of trouble citing, "Some people may be jealous or may think that you think you are better than they are." Tonight, I walked one of my new roommates down to the front desk so that she could get a sandwich. She hadn’t had any dinner but has phobias about open places and ordering at counters. As we approached, I heard two of the other security guards saying, “She don’t even speak to me. She just walks around with her nose in the air.”

I finally figured out that they were talking about me. The guard distributing the sandwiches didn’t want to give me “his food” as he called it. Finally, he throws a sandwich up on the counter. I asked my roommate what kind she wanted. “Ham, if they have it.”

“You have to take what I have,” spat the guard in charge of distributing the sandwiches.

So, my roommate slowly approached the counter with her hands folded into another, eyes looking downward, and picked it up. We turned to walk away. The guard then said to me, “Oh, you don’t want one? What, you too good for us now?”

When I just glared at his ignorance, he tried to smooth it over with, “I’m just playing.” I gave him the coolest stare that I could muster and made sure I held his gaze long enough for him to shift his weight from one foot to the next in unexpected discomfort before finally turning and gesturing for my roommate to return upstairs. I suppose my unusual presence here is causing a bit of a stir.

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Humbling = Eating My Own Words

2011-01-18T08:59:00.001-06:00

Day 4: Walking in the shoes of the homeless and unemployed

Humbling. I returned to the dorm and stood at the sink to get some water. Robin (one of my roommates) said, “They brought up a box of pastry.” I opened the cardboard cake box and my eyes widened with excitement at the sight of biscotti, blueberry muffins, and… uh… what was that? A roach? A roach!

“Eew, there’s a roach in there!” I exclaimed with an expected amount of distaste. Only, I wanted to swallow my words a few moments later. My roommate did not even flinch, did not acknowledge the disgust in my words. Instead, she took another deliberate bite of her blueberry muffin, chewed slowly and thoroughly, and swallowed. In that moment, I felt so uppity, so insensitive, so stuck on myself. Food was there alongside hungry people. The food filled a need. They ate it.

I quickly isolated myself in the small lounge area on the other side of the dorm. Dear God I whispered in disbelief as reality smacked me across the face. Does it really come down to this? I thought. Is this my future reality—reaching a point where survival and the fulfillment of basic needs trumps discretionary practices and vanities? Man, I hope not. I feel sad that others have been forced to renounce that luxury out of pure necessity. We don’t know how good we have it.

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Bill of Rights for the Homeless

2010-11-26T15:59:00.001-06:00

Day 29 of Homelessness

Doing a Favor or Providing a Service?

With very limited computer access, I have been unable to publish my experiences and discoveries as a first-time homeless person. Let it suffice to say that I have experienced firsthand, witnessed, and listened to the stories of residents being harassed, intimidated, or verbally abused by those who are hired to serve their needs. As on resident told me, "It's as if the staff feels like they are doing us a favor rather than providing a service." I wholeheartedly believe that this type of treatment must and can be transformed.

Last week, I attended a screening of You Can Make a Difference, a documentary about homelessness in Newport, RI. During Q&As, I stood up and asked if anyone had ever initiated a Bill of Rights for the Homeless such as that passed by the Illinois House of Representatives. If not, I offered to draft a proposal and get the process started. Several people shared their excitment about the idea with me after the meaning and offered their support.

Community Support for a Bill of Rights for the Homeless

After drafting the following Bill of Rights for the Homeless and sharing it with a former senator, I am happy to report that on December 6, I will be meeting with several community leaders to strategize on ways to advance this proposal. Share your ideas, comments, or concerns about the following proposal on our official Sights n Sounds Blog.

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Bill of Rights for the Homeless

Introduced by: International Freedom Coalition

Developed by: Sapphire Jule King, MAEd

Section 1: Summary

BILL SUMMARY

Establishes the Bill of Rights for the Homeless Act which designates "housing status" as a prohibited ground of discrimination, abuse, and harassment.

PURPOSE OR GENERAL IDEA OF BILL

This bill would develop a consumer-centered system of human rights-based principles and practices to insure that educational, employment, and service programs are free from either conscious or inadvertent bias, discrimination, abuse, and harassment often levied against homeless individuals and families at shelters, meal sites, public and private agencies, on the street, and in any other places where homeless individuals may be found.

SUMMARY OF SPECIFIC PROVISIONS

Adds a subsection to the Support of Homeless (Chapter 40-17) to include rights of homeless individuals, clients, or residents which also amends the Rhode Island State Fair Employment Practices Act (Chapter 28-5), Harassment at Institutions of Higher Education (Section 16-76.1-1), and Hotels and Public Places (Sections 11-24-2 and 11-24-2.4) of the penal law to include “housing status” as a defining category in groups legally recognized as protected under anti-discrimination law.

Section 2: Justification

The founder and director of the International Freedom Coalition lived for one month as a resident in an area homeless shelter where she experienced firsthand the maltreatment and degradation of its residents and clients. Staff and security personnel regularly harassed, demeaned, ridiculed, or intimidated residents, including the Coalition’s founder. Additionally, the founder was inaccurately and inappropriately labeled as having long-term mental illness after revealing that she had suicide ideation 14 years ago. Despite objections from the founder, staff refused to remove the designation from the intake forms, leaving the founder to feel forced to either accept the labeling or not receive shelter. However, the founder revealed that she also recovered from alcoholism 9.5 years ago, but staff did not label her as an alcoholic. Consequently, this selective and inaccurate categorization of homeless persons skews the often reported and cited statistics.

Moreover, the conscientious practice of shelters providing residents with an address to receive mail opens the door for inadvertent or deliberate discriminatory practices by potential employers or other private entities. Given the relatively small size of the community and the well-known address for the shelters, residents’ resumes which feature a shelter address may be prematurely and unfairly dismissed based solely upon inaccurate, biased perceptions of a homeless person.

Lastly, the current legislative focus of homeless advocacy groups include shelter overcrowding, the need for more permanent supportive housing, and creating a permanent funding source for affordable housing but do not address basic human rights protections from abuse, harassment, discrimination, and biased treatment experienced by the homeless often by public and private entities, service providers, and shelter staff. Designating a bill of rights will protect the humanity of the homeless and challenges the misconception that these are people who are less valuable than other members of society.

Section 3: Definitions

(1) "Housing status" means (i) the type of housing in which an individual resides or (ii) the status of having or not having a fixed or regular residence, including the status of living on the streets, in a shelter, or in a temporary residence.

(2) "Homeless" means a person or persons who (i) are undomiciled, with no address or regular residence (ii) or resides in a place not designed for regular sleeping accommodation, a shelter, a residential program for victims of domestic violence or in a hotel/motel on a temporary basis.

(3) "Abuse" means intentionally engaging in a pattern of harassing conduct which causes or is likely to cause emotional or psychological harm to a client or resident, including but not limited to, ridiculing or demeaning a client or resident, making derogatory or abrasive remarks to a client or resident, cursing directed towards a client or resident, or threatening to inflict physical or emotional harm on a client or resident.

(4) "Stalking" means harassing a client or resident or willfully, maliciously and repeatedly following a client or resident with the intent to place that client or resident in reasonable fear of bodily injury.

(5) "Cyberstalking" means transmitting any communication by computer to any client or resident or causing any client or resident to be contacted for the sole purpose of harassing that client or resident or his or her family.

(6) "Harassing" or "Harassment, intimidation or bullying" means following a knowing and willful course of conduct directed at a specific client or resident with the intent to seriously alarm, annoy, or bother the client or resident, and which serves no legitimate purpose. The course of conduct must be such as would cause (i) a reasonable person to suffer substantial emotional distress, be in reasonable fear of harm to his or her person, or be in reasonable fear of damage to his or her property; or (ii) is sufficiently severe, persistent or pervasive that it creates an intimidating, threatening or abusive environment for a client or resident.

(7) "Course of conduct" means a pattern of conduct composed of a series of acts over a period of time, evidencing a continuity of purpose. Constitutionally protected activity is not included within the meaning of "course of conduct."

Section 4. The Support of Homeless chapter is amended by adding Section 40-17.1 as follows:

§ 40-17.1 Rights of homeless individuals, clients, or residents. – No person's rights, privileges, or access to public or private services may be denied or abridged solely because he or she is homeless. Such a person shall be granted the same rights and privileges as any other citizen of this State. These rights include but are not limited to the following:

1. The right to receive safe, appropriate, courteous, and high quality care, shelter, and services in a timely manner with consideration, dignity, respect, and equality by all.

2. The right to access emergency medical health services in any health care facility doing business in this State in a timely manner with consideration, dignity, respect, and equality by all.

3. The right to receive public services or accommodations offered to any other citizen of this State in accordance, with established eligibility guidelines for those services.

4. The right to be free from discrimination on the basis of race or color, religion, sex, disability, age, sexual orientation, gender identity or expression, country of ancestral origin, housing status or perceived housing status; threats or coercion; mental, emotional, verbal, or physical abuse; harassment, intimidation or bullying; stalking or cyberstalking; physical punishment; damage to or theft of property; or exploitation of any kind by public and private entities, shelters, service providers and their staff, or other clients or residents.

5. As a condition to receive services or shelter, the right to refuse being categorized or labeled with an addiction, mental illness, disability, or other health-related issues which occurred in the person's past but is inaccurate or inappropriate for describing his or her present emotional, mental, or physical health; and not to be subjected to discrimination, reprisal, or denial of shelter or services for doing so.

6. The right to accept or refuse care and services and to be informed of the consequences of that action.

7. Any person denied products or services shall be offered the opportunity to be given the reason for such denial in writing within a reasonable period of time.

8. The right to not be coerced or penalized in any way for not taking any medication or for not undergoing any medical treatment that has not been authorized by a qualified physician.

9. The right to access his or her own medications and appropriate medical treatment.

10. The right to have access to his or her personal and clinical records

11. The right to have his or her personal and clinical records treated and maintained in a confidential manner and to be advised by the agency of its policies and procedures regarding disclosure of personal and clinical records. Homeless shelters shall obtain a voluntary written release from a homeless person prior to disclosing any personal information regarding the homeless person, including, but not limited to, name, social security number, and birth date, except in aggregate form. The right to confidentiality of records includes the dissemination of materials to other agencies, either private or public, for any experimental research or investigational activities. The homeless person shall be given the option of whether to release records via informed consent, based on guidelines from the Office of Human Research Protections, United States Department of Health and Human Services, including:

(A) the expected duration of the subject's participation;

(B) an explanation of whom to contact for answers to pertinent questions about the research and research subjects' rights, and whom to contact in the event of a research-related injury to the subject;

(C) a statement that participation in releasing records is voluntary, refusal to participate will involve no penalty or loss of benefits to which the subject is otherwise entitled, and the subject may discontinue participation in the record release at any time without penalty or loss of benefits to which the subject is otherwise entitled;

(D) a description of any reasonably foreseeable risks or discomforts to the subject; and

(E) a statement describing the extent, if any, to which confidentiality of records identifying the

subject will be maintained.

12. The right to employment and training opportunities in accordance with his or her interests and abilities.

13. The right to vote, which may not be denied solely based upon the person's housing status, notwithstanding any provision of the Election Code

14. The right to live in any community in this State in which he or she can afford to live.

15. The right to choose a type of living arrangements in accordance with local regulations without harassment or interference from any other citizen or from any public or private entity.

16. The right of visitation with family members, friends, clergy, and professional or public consultants notwithstanding the person's living arrangements, as long as the visitation does not interfere with the smooth operation of the person's place of residence.

17. The right to manage his or her own personal finances notwithstanding his or her living arrangements, unless (i) the person voluntarily signs a written agreement, sworn to and witnessed before a notary public, authorizing an individual or agency to manage his or her finances, (ii) the person resides in a shelter for homeless persons and has enrolled in a savings program designed to provide rent money upon the person's departure from the shelter, or (iii) the person has been ruled or adjudicated by a court of competent jurisdiction to be incompetent to manage his or her financial affairs.

18. In the case of a group living arrangement or

19. long-term care facility, the right to receive and sign any check, voucher, or other warrant or legal tender issued in his or her name before the moneys may be expended by the person's landlord or a public or private agency, unless the person waives the right in a writing sworn to before a notary public. If the person is unable to sign his or her name, the person may make his or her signature with an "X" that is witnessed by 2 other persons not employed or directly associated with the landlord or agency, preferably a relative or guardian of the person or someone designated by the person beforehand.

20. A person shall not be required to waive these rights, via a release of information, in exchange for the goods or services of the provider.

21. Clients' or residents' rights shall be conspicuously posted and a copy of these rights shall be given to any client or resident on request.

22. The right to assistance in obtaining legal representation to protect these rights.

23. The right to voice his or her grievances through a documented grievance mechanism established by the facility, involving clients or residents, staff, and relatives or authorized representatives of clients or residents, which will insure clients' or residents' freedom from discrimination, abuse, exploitation, reprisal, coercion, harassment, intimidation, or bullying; to be advised on how to voice grievances; and not to be subjected to discrimination or reprisal for doing so. The grievance procedure shall include provisions for appeal.

24. The right to voice grievances regarding treatment or care that is (or fails to be) furnished, or regarding the lack of respect for the client or resident or the client's or resident's property by anyone who is furnishing services on behalf of a shelter, meal site, or service provider; to be advised on how to voice grievances; and not to be subjected to discrimination or reprisal for doing so. The grievance procedure shall include provisions for appeal.

25. When a person has presented to a shelter, meal site, or service provider an internal complaint alleging a violation of the rights under this chapter, the shelter, meal site, or service provider shall be required to disclose in a timely manner in writing to that client or resident the disposition of the complaint, including a description of any action taken in resolution of the complaint; provided, however, no other personnel information shall be disclosed to the complainant.

Section 5. The Rhode Island State Fair Employment Practices Act is amended by changing Sections 28-5-2, 28-5-3, 28-5-5, 28-5-7, 28-5-7.2, 28-5-7.3, 28-5-14, 28-5-41.2, 28-5.1-4, 28-5.1-7, 28-5.1-8, 28-5.1-9, and 28-5.1-14 as follows:

§ 28-5-2 Legislative findings. – The practice or policy of discrimination against individuals because of their race or color, religion, sex, sexual orientation, gender identity or expression, disability, age, country of ancestral origin, or housing status or perceived housing status is a matter of state concern. Such discrimination foments domestic strife and unrest, threatens the rights and privileges of the inhabitants of the state, and undermines the foundations of a free democratic state. The denial of equal employment opportunities because of such discrimination and the consequent failure to utilize the productive capacities of individuals to their fullest extent deprive large segments of the population of the state of earnings necessary to maintain decent standards of living, necessitates their resort to public relief, and intensifies group conflicts, thereby resulting in grave injury to the public safety, health, and welfare.

§ 28-5-3 Declaration of policy. – It is declared to be the public policy of this state to foster the employment of all individuals in this state in accordance with their fullest capacities, regardless of their race or color, religion, sex, sexual orientation, gender identity or expression, disability, age, country of ancestral origin, or housing status or perceived housing status and to safeguard their right to obtain and hold employment without such discrimination.

§ 28-5-5 Right to equal employment opportunities. – The right of all individuals in this state to equal employment opportunities, regardless of race or color, religion, sex, sexual orientation, gender identity or expression, disability, age, country of ancestral origin, or housing status or perceived housing status is recognized as and declared to be a civil right.

§ 28-5-7 Unlawful employment practices. – It shall be an unlawful employment practice:

(1) For any employer:

(i) To refuse to hire any applicant for employment because of his or her race or color, religion, sex, sexual orientation, gender identity or expression, disability, age, country of ancestral origin, or housing status or perceived housing status;

(iii) In the recruiting of individuals for employment or in hiring them, to utilize any employment agency, placement service, training school or center, labor organization, or any other employee referring source which the employer knows, or has reasonable cause to know, discriminates against individuals because of their race or color, religion, sex, sexual orientation, gender identity or expression, disability, age, country of ancestral origin, or housing status or perceived housing status;

(v) When an employee has presented to the employer an internal complaint alleging harassment in the workplace on the basis of race or color, religion, sex, disability, age, sexual orientation, gender identity or expression, country of ancestral origin, or housing status or perceived housing status to refuse to disclose in a timely manner in writing to that employee the disposition of the complaint, including a description of any action taken in resolution of the complaint; provided, however, no other personnel information shall be disclosed to the complainant.

(2) For any employment agency to fail or refuse to properly classify or refer for employment or otherwise discriminate against any individual because of his or her race or color, religion, sex, sexual orientation, gender identity or expression, disability, age, country of ancestral origin, or housing status or perceived housing status; or

(ii) For any employment agency, placement service, training school or center, labor organization, or any other employee referring source to comply with an employer's request for the referral of job applicants if the request indicates either directly or indirectly that the employer will not afford full and equal employment opportunities to individuals regardless of their race or color, religion, sex, sexual orientation, gender identity or expression, disability, age, country of ancestral origin, or housing status or perceived housing status;

(3) For any labor organization:

(i) To deny full and equal membership rights to any applicant for membership because of his or her race or color, religion, sex, sexual orientation, gender identity or expression, disability, age, country of ancestral origin, or housing status or perceived housing status;

(iii) To fail or refuse to classify properly or refer for employment, or otherwise to discriminate against any member because of his or her race or color, religion, sex, sexual orientation, gender identity or expression, disability, age, country of ancestral origin, or housing status or perceived housing status; or

(4) Except where based on a bona fide occupational qualification certified by the commission or where necessary to comply with any federal mandated affirmative action programs, for any employer or employment agency, labor organization, placement service, training school or center, or any other employee referring source, prior to employment or admission to membership of any individual, to:

(i) Elicit or attempt to elicit any information directly or indirectly pertaining to his or her race or color, religion, sex, sexual orientation, gender identity or expression, disability, age, country of ancestral origin, or housing status or perceived housing status;

(ii) Make or keep a record of his or her race or color, religion, sex, sexual orientation, gender identity or expression, disability, age, country of ancestral origin, or housing status or perceived housing status;

(iii) Use any form of application for employment, or personnel or membership blank containing questions or entries directly or indirectly pertaining to race or color, religion, sex, sexual orientation, gender identity or expression, disability, age, country of ancestral origin, or housing status or perceived housing status;

(iv) Print or publish or cause to be printed or published any notice or advertisement relating to employment or membership indicating any preference, limitation, specification, or discrimination based upon race or color, religion, sex, sexual orientation, gender identity or expression, disability, age, country of ancestral origin, or housing status or perceived housing status; or

(v) Establish, announce, or follow a policy of denying or limiting, through a quota system or otherwise, employment or membership opportunities of any group because of the race or color, religion, sex, sexual orientation, gender identity or expression, disability, age, country of ancestral origin, or housing status or perceived housing status of that group;

§ 28-5-7.2 Proof of unlawful employment practices in disparate impact cases. – (a) An unlawful employment practice prohibited by § 28-5-7 may be established by proof of disparate impact. An unlawful employment practice by proof of disparate impact is established when:

(1) A complainant demonstrates that an employment practice results in a disparate impact on the basis of race, color, religion, sex, sexual orientation, gender identity or expression, disability, age, country of ancestral origin, or housing status or perceived housing status and the respondent fails to demonstrate that the practice is required by business necessity; or

(2) A complainant demonstrates that a group of employment practices results in disparate impact on the basis of race, color, religion, sex, sexual orientation, gender identity or expression, disability, age, country of ancestral origin, or housing status or perceived housing status and the respondent fails to demonstrate that the practices are required by business necessity; provided that:

§ 28-5-7.3 Discriminatory practice need not be sole motivating factor. – An unlawful employment practice may be established in an action or proceeding under this chapter when the complainant demonstrates that race, color, religion, sex, sexual orientation, gender identity or expression, disability, age, country of ancestral origin, or housing status or perceived housing status was a motivating factor for any employment practice, even though the practice was also motivated by other factors. Nothing contained in this section shall be construed as requiring direct evidence of unlawful intent or as limiting the methods of proof of unlawful employment practices under § 28-5-7.

§ 28-5-14 Educational program. – In order to eliminate prejudice among the various ethnic groups in this state and to further good will among those groups, the commission and the state department of elementary and secondary education are jointly directed to prepare a comprehensive educational program, designed for the students of the public schools of this state and for all other residents of the state, calculated to emphasize the origin of prejudice based on race or color, religion, sex, sexual orientation, gender identity or expression, disability, age, country of ancestral origin, or housing status or perceived housing status, its harmful effects, and its incompatibility with American principles of equality and fair play.

§ 28-5-41.2 Right to fair employment practices – Housing status. – Whenever in this chapter there appears the terms "race or color, religion, sex, disability, age, country of ancestral origin, sexual orientation, or gender identity or expression" there shall be inserted immediately thereafter the words "housing status or perceived housing status."

§ 28-5.1-4 Employment policies for state employees. – (a) Each appointing authority shall review the recruitment, appointment, assignment, upgrading, and promotion policies and activities for state employees without regard to race, color, religion, sex, sexual orientation, gender identity or expression, age, national origin, disability, or housing status or perceived housing status. All appointing authorities shall hire and promote employees without discrimination.

§ 28-5.1-7 State services and facilities. – (a) Every state agency shall render service to the citizens of this state without discrimination based on race, color, religion, sex, sexual orientation, gender identity or expression, age, national origin, disability, or housing status or perceived housing status. No state facility shall be used in furtherance of any discriminatory practice nor shall any state agency become a party to any agreement, arrangement, or plan which has the effect of sanctioning those patterns or practices.

§ 28-5.1-8 Education, training, and apprenticeship programs. – (a) All educational programs and activities of state agencies, or in which state agencies participate, shall be open to all qualified persons without regard to race, color, religion, sex, sexual orientation, gender identity or expression, age, national origin, disability, or housing status or perceived housing status. The programs shall be conducted to encourage the fullest development of the interests, aptitudes, skills, and capacities of all participants.

§ 28-5.1-9 State employment services. – (a) All state agencies, including educational institutions, which provide employment referral or placement services to public or private employees, shall accept job orders, refer for employment, test, classify, counsel and train only on a nondiscriminatory basis. They shall refuse to fill any job order which has the effect of excluding any persons because of race, color, religion, sex, sexual orientation, gender identity or expression, age, national origin, disability, or housing status or perceived housing status.

§ 28-5.1-14 State licensing and regulatory agencies. – State agencies shall not discriminate by considering race, color, religion, sex, sexual orientation, gender, identity or expression, age, national origin, disability, or housing status or perceived housing status in granting, denying, or revoking a license or charter, nor shall any person, corporation, or business firm which is licensed or chartered by the state unlawfully discriminate against or segregate any person on these grounds. All businesses licensed or chartered by the state shall operate on a nondiscriminatory basis, according to equal employment treatment and access to their services to all persons, except unless otherwise exempted by the laws of the state. Any licensee, charter holder, or retail sales permit holder who fails to comply with this policy is subject to any disciplinary action that is consistent with the legal authority and rules and regulations of the appropriate licensing or regulatory agency. State agencies which have the authority to grant, deny, or revoke licenses or charters will cooperate with the state equal opportunity office to prevent any person, corporation, or business firm from discriminating because of race, color, religion, sex, sexual orientation, gender, identity or expression, age, national origin, disability, or housing status or perceived housing status or from participating in any practice which may have a disparate effect on any protected class within the population. The state equal opportunity office shall monitor the equal employment opportunity activities and affirmative action plans of all such organizations.

Section 6. The Harassment at Institutions of Higher Education is amended by changing Section 16-76.1-1 as follows:

§ 16-76.1-1 Internal complaints alleging harassment. – When a student has presented to an institution of higher education an internal complaint alleging harassment on the basis of race or color, religion, sex, disability, age, sexual orientation, gender identity or expression, country of ancestral origin, or housing status or perceived housing status the institution shall be required to disclose in a timely manner in writing to that student the disposition of the complaint, including a description of any action taken in resolution of the complaint; provided, however, no other personnel information shall be disclosed to the complainant.

Section 7. Hotels and Public Places is amended by changing Section 11-24-2 and 11-24-2.4 as follows:

§ 11-24-2 Discriminatory practices prohibited. – No person, being the owner, lessee, proprietor, manager, superintendent, agent, or employee of any place of public accommodation, resort, or amusement shall directly or indirectly refuse, withhold from, or deny to any person on account of race or color, religion, country of ancestral origin, disability, age, sex, sexual orientation, gender identity or expression, or housing status or perceived housing status any of the accommodations, advantages, facilities, or privileges of that public place. No person shall directly or indirectly publish, circulate, issue, display, post, or mail any written, printed or painted communication, notice, or advertisement, to the effect that any of the accommodations, advantages, facilities, and privileges of any public accommodation place shall be refused, withheld from, or denied to any person on account of race or color, religion, country of ancestral origin, disability, sex or sexual orientation, gender identity or expression, age, or housing status or perceived housing status or that the patronage or custom at that place of any person belonging to or purporting to be of any particular race or color, religion, country of ancestral origin, disability, age, sex, sexual orientation, gender identity or expression, or housing status or perceived housing status is unwelcome, objectionable, or not acceptable, desired, or solicited. The production of any written, printed, or painted communication, notice, or advertisement, purporting to relate to any public place and to be made by any person being its owner, lessee, proprietor, superintendent, or manager, shall be presumptive evidence in any action that its production was authorized by that person.

§ 11-24-2.4 Discrimination based on housing status. – Whenever in this chapter the terms "race or color, religion, country of ancestral origin, handicap, age, sex, or sexual orientation, gender identity or expression" shall appear, there shall be inserted immediately thereafter the words "housing status or perceived housing status".

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Community Leader now Humbled Resident in Homeless Shelter

2010-11-08T16:07:00.001-06:00

Day 1 of Homelessness

Going Minimalist

My eyes popped open bright and early at 4:30a.m. All plans to get an early start were immediately vetoed by a desire to sleep in a few more hours, to capitalize on the comfortable bed with the thick duvet and four soft, plush pillows. Besides, I had no idea what the conditions would be like in the shelter. I have volunteered countless hours in various shelters over the years, but never before did I imagine myself preparing to become a resident in one.

Finally, I woke up about 8:00 a.m., showered, and dressed. As I repacked my sleeping clothes in the designated space bag, I realized that this would probably be the last day that I would have access to an iron. Ergo, I opened another space bag containing my three pairs of dress slacks, pulled them out, held them by the waistband in each hand, and gave a light shake to reveal the perfectly spaced horizontal creases. Ay caramba!

Lesson 1: do not roll the slacks then squish them to death in a space bag, Sapphire. That creates a million creases. Either roll them and place them directly into the carry-on (which takes up more room) or fold, then place them into the space bag. Otherwise, wrinkle city. You will no longer have the luxury of an iron or an ironing board when you're living on the streets, Mija. So noted.

Ironing and repacking complete, it was time to lighten the load. Even though I went minimalist with three pairs of slacks, five light sweaters, sleep shirt and capris, a suit jacket, thermals, undergarments, a light leather coat and a winter coat; two, low-heeled, patent leather pumps, a pair of eel-skin, high-heeled ankle boots, and a pair of dressy casual leather/suede walking shoes; minimal toiletries and the six journals containing my handwritten manuscript A Woman's Love is a Poetic Journey, I still carried too much for an uncertain life on the street. Protect the money first. I took advantage of the resources soon to be lost to me by requesting that the hotel shuttle driver take me to the post office. Relunctantly but without prejudice, I boxed up the manuscript along with the boots, a beautiful necklace and bracelet my mom gave me, and my ancient, MP3 player and shipped it all back to my mom. Now, back to the hotel to collect my carry-on and business tote, board the bus, and head for downtown Providence.

Delaying the Inevitable

My search for the Attorney General's Office led me on a walking tour through the Londonesque streets. Finding the building, I received the criminal background clearance needed to be accepted into the shelter. Next, I rolled my way back through the cobblestone streets to the Social Security Office to request a duplicate card as mine is filed away securely in my old room at my mother's home in Texas. The great thing--if that's the proper descriptor to use here--is that all fees for the criminal background check and the social security card were waived upon presenting a letter from the shelter stating that I am homeless. At least that initial barrier was removed in order to receive the documentation that I needed. One more stop to make before heading to the shelter--the library.

Anyone who knows me well knows that I am the library queen. I love libraries and all the wonderful knowledge and exciting stories in them. My first day in Providence, my feet led me to the Providence Public Library when they were supposed to be taking me to a local church. I guess it's instinct! I received a temporary library card for the day and started searching and applying for jobs. Sixty minutes later, my time ran out-- both for using the computer and for delaying the inevitable. Today is the day. This moment is the moment when the truth becomes my new reality. I have no place to go. I have no other options. I am homeless. I pulled my red carry-on from underneath the computer desk where I stashed it, pushed the button to raise the handle, slung my business tote over my shoulder, and started walking toward the shelter across the interstate and six blocks to the southeast.

Check In

I walked through the glass doors of the shelter more casually dressed than the day before--black leather/suede walking shoes and black slacks; white, cotton, scoop-neck tee with 3/4 length sleeves; waist-length, black leather jacket with a white, fluffy, hand-knit London scarf; and red carry-on suitcase and business tote. While the staff ignored me (sinced I must have been lost) and the shelter guests stared at me (since I must have been lost), I stood at the counter trying to decide if it was appropriate to say, "Yes, I'm here to check in." I know I didn't walk into the Biltmore, but how else do you say I'm here to... check in? Finally, I settled on just asking to see the Case Advocate who conducted my intake.

In the Cased Advocate's office, she began reviewing the rules with me. No violence, no drugs, no alcohol, no visitors. Shoes and undergarments must be worn at all times. No cell phone use in the dorm room after 10 p.m. No food in the dorm room; clean up after yourself. Sign in and sign out, curfew at 9 p.m., must not be in the dorm room 9 a.m. - 4 p.m. Monday through Friday. When you gain employment, you must surrender 40% of your pay in ther form of a money order to the Case Advocate to save on your behalf and to facilitate a rapid transition in to your own housing.

Humbled to My Core

I sat there humbled to the core. I could not object. Flashes of my previous life and successes--salary, home, freedom--lumbered through my mind. I am a 36-year old professional, I silently screamed. Are you kidding? Do you really think I need a budgeting lesson and someone to save my money for me so that I can move? Are you nuts? I did this at the age of 15 when I participated in a work-study summer program at University of Texas for accelerated learners. The counselors saved the majority of our money and returned it to us at the completion of the program. Yes, I am homeless. Yes, I am now a residing in their shelter. Yes, they have rules which are for very valid reasons I'm sure. However, I am not handing over my money to anyone. Call it ego. Call it fierce independence. Call it 10 years of professional experience. Call it conceited if you want. But it's not going to happen!

But, I couldn't say any of this to her. Afterall, she had something I needed--something more valuable than my principles, something more precious than my pride. She had a safe, warm bed that would keep me off the streets and out of the cold for the next 30 days. So, I simply nodded my head in agreement and signed the paper acknowledging that I understood and would comply with their stated rules. Damn.

Posted via email from Walk a Week in Your Shoes

Unemployment not a valid reason for being homeless

2010-11-06T15:22:00.001-05:00

Week 41: Walking in the shoes of the homeless

The Intake: Something must be wrong with you if you are homeless

After receiving an appointment to speak with a Case Advocate at 4:30p.m. later today, a soft male voice slightly louder than a whisper asked, "Do you like golf?" I turned to my right in the direction of the sound. My gaze was met with a quiet curiosity projecting from a reserved, slender, curly-haired Black male. The look in his eyes along with the slight smile on his face clashed against the backdrop of shocked looks behind the counter in front of me. Walking over to give him my undivided attention, I answered his question. We chatted back and forth casually about our mutual interest in the game. Still seated, he looked up at me and asked, "What are you going to do in three weeks?"

Hearing the voice of God in the words flowing over his lips, I smiled and sighed, "I don't know."

"You can't stay here forever. Where will you be in three weeks?"

Repeating my uncertainty, the lady seated behind the counter called me over. "He's..." she began before finishing her sentence with rotating finger motions at her temple. I just smiled and nodded to her, turned, and bade farewell to the young man. I know the voice of God when He speaks through His children. Some people call them crazy. I know differently. I know the truth.

Four hours later, I returned for my appointment and was met by a young lady with Latina features and red tinted hair. Introductions were made, and I ascended the stairs behind my Case Advocate. We each took a seat in our respective client-service provider chairs in the smallish office. Picking up the intake form I completed describing why I came to the shelter and placing it in her lap, she hesitated. "So.. I read what you wrote, and all I can say is wow."

"Yes, its true that I've given all I had to found the nonprofit and to help others. Now, ironically, I find myself in the very same position as many of the people I seek to help." Continuing openly, I described my spiritual and professional journey over the last 10 years from engineering to community service, life coaching, graduate school, founding the Coalition, starting the Walk, and ultimately God's last directive to move to Rhode Island on a leap of faith. When she could maintain eye contact with me, her eyes said, Wow and I'm not sure about this simultaneously. Nevertheless, she remained cordial, understanding, and caring. I told her that I never imagined myself being in this position. Her response: "I don't think anyone ever does." Point taken.

The Case Advocate explained that there was a program for individuals experiencing homelessness for the first time and who also show initiative and potential for quickly getting back on their feet. "You would be a great candidate for that program," she assured. "Let's get the paperwork started." Being accepted into this program would allow me to bypass the usual placement in the general women's shelter where you fight for a mat, sleep on the floor, and pray that your belongings are still with you in the morning.

She droned through the customary questions to which I gave non-customary answers. No, I was not receiving any sort of public assistance. No, I never have. I'm just unemployed. No, I don't need to get a GED because I have graduated high school and hold a Master's degree. No, I am not fleeing a DV (domestic violence) situation, and no, I'm not without housing because of substance abuse or mental illness issues.

I'm just an unemployed professional with a boat load of knowledge, skills, and experience... who moved here because God told me so. "I live a 100% Spirit-directed life. I hear, listen to, and follow the voice of God. If He tells me to do something, I do it. If He asks me no to do something, I don't do it. God is my life's director."

Uh-oh. Probably not the smartest thing to say even though its the truth. I could see the red flags waving in her mind as they reflected the skepticism in the near-blank stare of her eyes. She then repeated the list of current issues I could possibly have.

"Do you have any addictions?"

"No."

"Alcoholism?"

"No."

"Mental illness?"

"No."

"Domestic Violence?"

"No."

"Any disabilities?"

"No."

"Veteran?"

"No."

"Other family abuse, evictions, or issues?"

"No."

None fo the customary boxes could be marked as an applicable explanation for my presence there. Then, she switched her questioning angle, "Have you ever had depression or anxiety, suicidal thoughts or anything like that?"

"Sure, yeeeaaarrrsss ago, I did when I hadn't and didn't know how to resolve the traumas of my past. I was depressed and had suicidal thoughts. But that was then. This is now. That's not my life today. That's not my reality today."

Aha! The Case Advocate quickly checked the boxes labeled "Mental Illness" and "Long-term" and wrote in suicide ideation.

"Hold on," I protested. "I don't have a mental illness. I'm not depressed. I certainly don't have any of that long-term. I'm not suicidal. I'm unemployed."

Trying to cover, she explained that they just needed to be aware of any issues that might become a problem during a client's stay at the shelter. "Oh, no, this is not meant to be offensive."

"It's not offensive. It's inaccurate. It's not my truth."

"No, we just need to..." she hesitated, "sometimes people come in with chronic iss--"

"i don't have chronic anything," I interrupted. "I'm fine. I'm just an unemployed professional with no money to get a place to live."

"Oh, we don't mean it that way. It's great that you don't let your past define your future. We just have to let staff know if there are any potential problems with a client."

Let it go, I told myself. I was not going to argue with her as I had clearly stated my truth. Now, the red flags were waving in my mind.

The Veiled Face of Homelessness: The Unemployed Professional

Why was this happening? Why did she have to put a label on me? Is it that unusual that an educated professional who's given so much to the community could become unemployed with no money to sustain housing? Must something be wrong with me to be in this situation? Was it because I said that God led me here? Is it only acceptable for a Community Leader starting and heading services programs to say that God led her to do it but not acceptable for an individual receiving services in those programs to say following God's directives led her into this situation? Did that me mentally ill... for the long-term? Have community leaders, business leaders, and other professionals become that out of touch with God in the workplace?

Perhaps, I wonder, it's something completely different. Maybe she had to put me into one the ready-made categories for statistical purposes. For continued funding? If so, that means there is a hidden need that perhaps no one is acknowledging. Why can't there just be a statistical category for unemployed yet employable, educated professionals who: do not drink, smoke, or do drugs; who do not have any disability or illness of any kind; and who, due to purely economic reasons, do not have a place to live?

Just before leaving, the Case Advocate asked what she could do to help me.

"I need employment. Any introductions or referrals to companies, agencies, or hiring managers that allow me to network face-to-face with decision makers would be the best help that you could give me."

God's Promises Kept

No response. But God promised that if I took the leap of faith, He would provide. This special program has a bed that became available so I can come in tomorrow. I will be able to move from the hotel room and go straight into a safe, warm, clean dorm with only eight other women in an area separated from the general population. I thanked and blessed her before walking to the bus stop to return to the hotel. Upon exiting the bus, everything around me seemed to stop. The sidewalk, the buildings to the front, side, and rear. All sounds, all colors faded to white. I can honestly say that I have never before felt the presence of God so strongly and so clearly with my human senses.

Standing right next to me He said, "Trust me and stay strong. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes, Sir. I can."

All sounds, colors, buildings, and roads returned an instant later. I entered through the welcoming glass doors, returned to Room 249, snuggled into the comfy bed, and watched "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown" with not a care or an ounce of fear in the world. God is clearly sending me on an important journey that will surely have a great impact on millions of lives. I just have to maintain the faith and courage to walk the Walk as He designed it.

Opportunity to Celebrate

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To Help Them, Become One of Them: Human

2010-11-01T14:46:00.001-05:00

Week 41: Walking in the shoes of the homeless and umemployed

A thought occurred to me today as I walked the downtown streets of Providence. Over the past few years, I would give homeless individuals change as I passed them by foot on the sidewalk or by car on the street. Admittedly, during my two years in Barcelona with a loaded savings account, I would mumble to myself, "Go get a job." However, once I returned to the States and moved in with my mother while I pursued my graduate degree, reorganized my consulting business, and founded the Coalition, I changed my tune. I knew I was full of myself during the times I made those insensitive comments. I knew it was prejudgmental, inhumane, ungodly, and simply wrong.

I was pretty adept at identifying those who were homeless. Now, however, my senses are much keener, my awareness broader. I can no longer give them change. All I can give them is direct eye contact that says you and your situation are not invisible to me; a smile that says I acknowlege you has a human being; and a hello that says the subtext behind my eye contact and my smile is sincere.

Looking back to when I volunteered at homeless shelters and dedicated my life to serving the community via the Coalition, I realize how I was a little arrogant. Yes, my desire to volunteer, help, and give back was sincere. Nonetheless, I did regard the people I helped with slightly downcast eyes and thought them or poor them, meaning different from me with my two-story house and engineer's salary. The truth is we are all the same. We always have been, only I am just realizing that truth in this moment. Fully and deeply realizing it in the core of my being. We may have different occupations, different salary grades, different modes of transportation, and different types of housing. Still, we all have the same value as a people of the human race, as representatives of God's creation.

Every human as the right to be valued for simply being human.

Lesson for Community Leaders

As a leader in the community, it is imperative for me to know the plight of the individuals and families that I am called to help. This authentic Walk in the shoes of the homeless and unemployed has given me perspective that I did not realize I needed. It's a humbling experience to say the least, but I understand that God has placed me in this situation so that I may fulfill His vision.

Opportunity to Celebrate

Obviously, we should all celebrate the roof over our heads and the nurishment we receive no matter how it is viewed by economic or social standards. Yet, how can you "celebrate" blessings if you are homeless, hungry, unemployed, and cannot provide for your family? How, as a citizen or community leader, have you honored the value in all individuals regardless of their economic status or living situation? I celebrate by giving praise to God for providing for my needs and then share that praise with others as I do with this blog.

Share your story on our official Sights n Sounds Blog.

Posted via email from Walk a Week in Your Shoes

Community Leader Exposes Herself: An Unsheltered Secret

2010-11-01T14:22:00.001-05:00

Week 41: Sapphire is homeless and unemployed in America

Last night from the comfort of my hotel room in Warwick, RI, I spent hours on the phone calling churches and shelters. I had to make a plan for tomorrow. One center suggested I call 211, the United Way hotline. The United Way representative gave me a name of a shelter which sounded familiar. Ah, it was one of the places with an employment opportunity for which I wanted to apply. I jotted down their phone number and address and planned to apply in-person today. "Surely they would snag someone with your background and experience rather quickly," said the United Way representative.

Bolstered by the unexpected gift I received this morning, I arrived at the shelter dressed in my modern fit black slacks, designer black suit jacket bought in a Barcelona boutique, pink silk cami, and low-heeled patent leather pumps shined to a high gloss with a matching designer business tote. I weaved my way through the small gathering of turning heads and staring eyes at the corner building's entrance. Removing my oh so chic Anne Klein New York sunglasses while walking through the glass doors, I confidently stepped to the first counter and expressed my desire to apply for two of the available Outreach positions. My inquiry was met with the customary courtesies reserved for professionals dressed to the nines, coming to help the less fortunate. Those less fortunate ones responded in kind as I joined three people on the six-seater, wooden bench in the small yet crowded lobby. I began completing my application. Pausing now again to collect my thoughts before completing each section of the paper application, I observed the reality show unfolding right before my eyes. Guilt lumped in my throat, burned my cheeks, and stung my eyes as I watched those less fortunate ones look at me with an understated reverence. Guilt, because I had a secret that was sure to shock that "she's above us" look right out of their starry eyes.

After returning to the counter to submit my application, I took three steps to the right, stood behind a middle-aged lady with clothes and other essentials stuffed into three plastic bags, and waited for my turn to approach the counter marked "Social Services." Those starry-eyed glances blinked concern, puzzlement, and confusion. Finally, I was next.

"How may I help you?" the young lady seated behind the counter asked in a pleasant voice and open facial expression.

"I'd like to apply for shelter and services," I replied in an even tone.

"Are you here for a job interview?" she said, ignoring my statement.

"No. I did just complete a job application. Now, I am applying for shelter and services." At this point, another staff member joined the lady seated behind the counter. Surely, she could sort this out.

"Who are you here to interview with?" she asked.

"No one. I'm here to apply for shelter or whatever the proper procedure is," I responded, still in my even tone. Now, two sets of brows furrowed behind the counter and scanned my appearance, obviously misunderstanding my words. A third slid over to help get to the bottom of the situation.

"I'm confused," said the seated staff member.

"Exactly who are you here to see," the all chimed in unison.

"I'm here to see whomever can provide me with shelter." I could see the relunctance as understanding dawned on all three of their faces. Still putting up a fight, the seated staff member stammered, "Oh, you're..." Lowering her voice two octaves and obviously out of embarrassment for me, she finally bit off the final word, "... homeless?"

A defining moment. For us all. For me. For the staff. For the less fortunate ones. For all who had revered me when I walked through those glass doors--and may have even thought I felt better than they were--my secret had shocked them all into an eternal 10-second moment of silence. I broke that silence and confirmed my secret with a confidenty delivered, "Yes. I am homeless."

The Veiled Face of Homelessness: The Professional

A 2003 British survey reports that 25% of "homeless people were in managerial or professional jobs before they ended up on the streets." I am still searching for related statistics in America, but they are not that forthcoming. How prevalent an issue is this I wonder? Perhaps this is the mission God has sent me on to find out.

I am now the face of 14.8 million unemployed and 1.6 million homeless individuals in the United States. I am a well-educated, employable professional with no mental health, substance abuse, disability, or domestic violence issues who is homeless and unemployed in America.

Posted via email from Walk a Week in Your Shoes

God, You Want Me To Do What?

2010-10-30T15:27:00.001-05:00

“Faith is believing in things when common sense tells you not to.” ~ Sapphire Jule King

For the past two weeks since receiving God’s directive to move to Newport with no income, no savings, no job offers, and no guarantees, God has been asking me to write and publish an essay on my many experiences following His take-a-leap-of-faith guidance. I have shared bits and pieces of these stories with my closest friends, but I procrastinated on sharing them publicly. I’m not really sure why.

I couldn’t deny the importance of His request when I read my friend Monica Coleman’s Facebook postings of: “God favors HIS PLAN. Whenever ANYBODY lines up with God’s purpose and plan for his/her life, favor will instantly be upon that person’s life… See Galatians 2:6 and Proverbs 12:1-2.” and “God allowed you to wake up this morning because there is someone who needs to be blessed by you. Fulfill your destiny.”

I especially couldn’t deny His request any longer after reading another dear friend Dr. Gregg Thomas’s decrees of, “God is looking for those who stand up and say to the world, ‘God has been good to me’”, “What are you modeling before others?”, and “Give God all the glory for everything.”

I am so sleepy right now and so tired, but God is not allowing me to slip into blissful sleep without first completing this directive. So, for all of you who don’t know my story and may receive some benefit from hearing it, here goes.

Rebirth in the City of Phoenix: Pray and Leave it

Ten years ago my life was stuck in a stationary tornado. Repressed secrets, deep depression, and alcoholism locked me into a solitary location, ripping all possibilities of happiness to shreds with no way viable way out. At the end of my rope during the Summer of 2000, I contemplated suicide for the third time. I knew I couldn’t go through with it because I had promised God. But He had also promised me. He vowed that I wouldn’t have to live like that if I just believed in Him. If I just prayed to Him and left those requests with him—believing that He heard me and would answer them—all the upheaval would dissipate. So, I gave it one last shot. However, this time I prayed for Him to help me pray and leave it, pray and believe it. One month later, I received a job offer and was moving to Phoenix. I had 54¢ in the bank, huge credit card debt, no car, and bad credit because of the prior hospital stays. My company provided me with free housing and a car for 30 days and credit approval to buy a new car once I explained the reason for my credit history. God provided for my needs without me having to suffer.

Freedom Quest in Barcelona: Just Open Up and Follow Your Heart

Five years later, in 2005, I found myself in a beautiful home all alone with my biweekly engineering paycheck. I had achieved the success that society said would bring me happiness, but I was miserable. Having gotten sober and grown more spiritual aware, I carried out a four-day vision quest. Ending on July 4th, I rightly named it my Freedom Quest: "As the Declaration of Independence states, I am casting out the old 'government' which no longer ensures my 'safety' and am pursuing a new way of future security."

During my quest, I asked God to show me how to end my unfulfilled engineering career and begin a life dedicated to creativity and healing. I requested help to change my socially-isolated lifestyle into one of my dreams filled with travel, fun, and a family of my own. One month later, God told me to resign. I had a mortgage, car payment, and household bills with no savings and no other job options. Nonetheless, I followed His directive. During the termination process, I found out that I had just become fully vested on the day that I tendered my resignation. Thus, I cashed in my 401(k) and pension and couple of months later sold my home at the height of the Phoenix housing boom. I had plenty of money in the bank. God provided for my needs without me having to suffer.

God took me one step further. He instructed me to give away 95% of my material possessions to charity, and board a plane to Europe with only a backpack and a notebook full of spiritual messages as my travel guide. I eventually landed in Barcelona, Spain where its energy and wonderful people served as an anchor that allowed me to finally let go of all pretense, relax, breathe, and be the whole truth of who I am. A place that said, "No matter what happens, you are safe here. Just open up and follow your heart."

You Can Go Home Again: A Walk in Forgiveness

Phoenix was the home of my spiritual rebirth. Barcelona was the home of my deepest spiritual healing and training to follow God’s guidance to the letter. But my heart didn’t have a home. As my savings dwindled over the two-year adventure, I constantly asked God what I should do. He told me to stay. When I had but one month’s rent in the bank, I asked God what I should do. He said, “Pay your rent.” I did and found myself in a foreign country that felt like home with 100€ in the bank and no income to pay the next month’s rent on my flat. A friend generously offered to let me stay in her flat for a month while she was on vacation. Another friend told me to pack all my things and moved me into his home for as long as I needed to stay. I had completely forgotten about my rental deposit which was enough to buy a ticket back to the States. I had nowhere else to go but home to my family, home to my mom, home to a place I swore I would never return to when I left with just 54¢ to my name 8 years prior.

And I needed to return. Armed with a clearer understanding of my truth and a super strong connection with God, I finally reconnected with my family on a level I never thought possible. I came face to face with the sources of my fears and embarrassments and discovered that they no longer controlled me. I controlled them. Forgiveness was the key—no longer needing others to “pay” for hurting or disappointing me because I could see their actions through my God-eyes. That was the secret. This understanding led to the founding of my nonprofit dedicated to building strong families. It also led to a rooted, balanced, and healthy desire to re-establish of life of my own in a city that called to me without being driven by feelings of unhappiness, resentment, or needing to runaway to find peace. This time, peace is motivating me to walk into the next higher level of peace.

I woke up at 4am two weeks ago with God telling me to take a huge leap of faith and just move. “But to where?” I asked. “You know where—Newport.” Again, I have no money because I followed God when He instructed me to invest everything I had into the nonprofit’s Walk a Week in Your Shoes campaign Celebrating Strong Families. I have no job, no money, no housing, no guarantees, and no worries. I know it's time. I have the same feeling of peace, stillness, and surety that I had when I resigned from Motorola with a mortgage, car, and bills, but no income. God immediately made the way AFTER I took the leap. Also, in Barcelona when I followed Him to my last dime but landed in a beautiful home with a gracious friend in the hills of Barcelona! So, I feel confident to trust the voice of God and do it again.

And God is providing for my needs without me having to suffer. A few days later, He lowered the airfare so I could purchase my ticket to my new home with the little resources I had left. Although I do not see it now, I know I will have a home and income by my departure date of October 27.

In closing, God wants me to tell you:

While you are asking, “Hello? God? Are you listening to me?”, He is saying, “Hello, can you hear me?”

Listen and repeat what He says. Listen and respond. Listen and repeat. Nothing else is required. Allow Him to do the heavy lifting. Allow Him to figure out the details. Simply listen and repeat. Listen and respond. Listen and follow.

--Pray and leave it.

--Pray and believe it.

--Just open up and follow your heart.

--Walk in forgiveness.

I want to thank God for always providing me with everything I need from family and friends to spirit and real-life guardian angels.

Much love and respect,

[[posterous-content:zh1AYMcqAjGIahCmZhrZ]]

Posted via email from Walk a Week in Your Shoes

Do You Look At Me... and Judge?

2010-10-28T14:35:00.001-05:00

Week 41: Sapphire Jule King is homeless and unemployed in America.

The “Walk” Resumes in an Unusual Way

Throughout the past eight years, I have volunteered my time with various community organizations serving individuals and families with economic, educational, emotional, and spiritual challenges. Coming from very humble beginnings, I learned to see myself in these individuals although I earned a decent engineer's salary and lived in a above-average housing. As my relationship with my Higher Power strengthened, I learned to hear God's voice when they spoke to me. I learned to regard them no differently just because they asked for change, wore soiled clothes, or made their beds out of old blankets and cardboard. As a child and throughout my teenage years, I was considered the housed homeless--only one step away from becoming one of "those people." Fortunately, the strong support of my grandmother kept my mother, my three siblings, and me from having to experience true homelessness.

Now, God has called me to discover something. To unveil some truth that has yet to be explored. He has called me to move to Rhode Island with no money, no housing, and no income. He asked me to trust Him and take a leap of faith. "If you have the courage, you will find the need," He said. So I did it. I traded in my athletic walking shoes for low-peeled, black patent leather pumps that are not that friendly to walk in. I have traded in the dri-fit athletic walking gear for black slacks, a pink silk cami, and a stylishly-cut suit jacket. Gone is the backpack; in its place is a carry-on size suitcase stuffed with essentials and a shoulder bag full of journals. I am now the face of 14.8 million unemployed and 1.6 million homeless individuals in the United States. I am homeless and unemployed in America.

Sustained by Faith

One month ago when God asked me to move to Newport, RI, He promised to light my path and take care of my needs. He has upheld his promise. I only had $116 to buy the $120 one way airline ticket when I received the message. Within the next couple of days, the airlines reduced the fare by $20, allowing me to follow God's directive. Upon arriving yesterday, I sat at the airport still trying to figure out where I would spend the night. I had made some local connections through my professional contacts, but none had turned up any solid housing leads for a woman claiming to be on a leap-of-faith mission from God. I suppose for most people that is a bit much to swollow. Thus, God provided.

After spending two hours in the airport yesterday, I decided to use half of my $106 cash reserves for a hotel room. My options were looking even more grim with half of my cash gone. I spent the night still formulating an action plan for securing housing or employment. With the breadth and depth of my knowledge, skills, and abilities, one would think it not that difficult to find something. Relunctantly but obediently, I dressed in my new "Walk" uniform, repacked my bags and headed to the front desk to checkout. How in the world am I going to get anything done lugging this stuff around, I thought to myself. I inquired at employment with the Front Desk Supervisor. Her customary pre-employment questions opened the door for me to fully explain my situation. I completed the paper application and returned to the front desk. And waited. And waited for the Supervisor to check me out. She apologized for the wait and explained that she was trying to do something.

Finally, she looked up at me with the most sincere eyes and said, "I just don't want to turn you away... I had a guest who checked out early but prepaid for one more night. I was just going to check him out tomorrow, but I am trying to move his reservation to your room so that you can stay. I don't know why I am doing this. I am sure I can get in trouble for this." A few minutes later, I was returning my suitcase, shoulder bag, and coats to the room so that I could visit local outreach organizations hands-free. I don't think God is going to bring any punishment her way. So I give many thanks and blessings to Comfort Inn-Airport and the entire Choice Hotels International organization for hiring such compassionate people. Let's see what the rest of the day brings.

Opportunity to Celebrate

Obviously, we should all celebrate the roof over our heads and the nurishment we receive no matter how it is viewed by economic or social standards. Yet, how can you "celebrate" blessings if you are homeless, hungry, unemployed, and cannot provide for your family. I celebrate by giving praise to God for providing for my needs and then share that praise with others as I do with this blog.

Share your story on our official Sights n Sounds Blog.

[[posterous-content:zh1AYMcqAjGIahCmZhrZ]]

Posted via email from Walk a Week in Your Shoes

Week 29: Shifting Priorities

2010-08-03T15:45:00.001-05:00

The New Cyber “Walk” – A Virtual Celebration of Strong Families

God created me to save the world or so I thought. Past experiences intertwined with my steadfast upbringing conditioned me to be tenacious. Likewise, the tiger spirit that burns within my soul lunges me into full attack mode when faced with a social ill. For me, it feels unnatural to stop unless the problem is not only resolved but also completely stamped out. Done. Vanquished. Exterminated. Committed to the history books as something that used to happen long ago. God created me this way and for a reason.

When He presented me with the vision for this Walk, He included all the extreme, adventurous elements that instantly ignited the pressure points surrounding the core of my being: blazing the trail by walking around the country, alone if needed; promoting the practices that can stamp out child abuse; and honoring families who survive or rebuild after setbacks and tragedy. I jumped in headfirst without a second thought. After all, I was created to save the world.

Yet, from the beginning, this Walk went in every direction other than the way it was presented to me in the vision. I finally realized that these first months of the campaign were about me translating the rhetoric of the Walk into action within the dynamics of my own family. I got that. However, I could not reconcile the conflicting emotions that arose as a by-product. Suddenly, I felt more strongly about establishing a home and a family of my own than I did about blazing the trail to save the world. Guilt washed over me day after day. How could I possibly put my own selfish desires before the work of God?

I prayed and I meditated. I meditated and I prayed. I asked God almost constantly about what He wanted me to do. “Do I resume this Walk or not? If you want me to, please speak up now while I still have the will to do it. If you don’t, I’m not going to do it. I don’t want to do it anymore.”

The guilt swelled even larger than before. How could I have possibly said that, even if only in my prayers? Nevertheless, the truth could not be denied, and those feelings grew more potent. I kept praying and meditating, meditating and praying. God did not answer me. Not a word, nary a whisper. I couldn’t believe it, but I was on a roll. There was no stopping now. The inevitable that I felt pinging within my soul for months found a heartbeat of its own. Without God telling me what to do, I publicly announced last week that I was “out of the save-the-world business.” I asked God to forgive me, still love me, and still guide me. But, “I am out,” I thought. I started planning my move to the city God led me to while planning this campaign. I was ready to go home.

Before starting this campaign, saving the world was my prime priority in life, second only to my Higher Power. Since God gave me that mission, then my logic considered it as the absolute number one priority in life. Furthermore, my frame of reference for how life works dictates that a mission to save the world requires me to devote every ounce of time and energy to the cause. There’s no room for error, no room for downtime. Everything else in my personal life is secondary. Anything less would not honor my oath to do the will of God.

Once my love and devotion to my family started rising to the top however, it became impossible to pursue a save-the-world mission with the sacrifice and dedication that it takes. I came to understand that my devotion to God required me to be first devoted to family. Uh oh.

I cannot have two absolute, number priorities. It’s mathematically and emotionally impossible. In order to put family first, I would have to surrender to changing the world – no matter how small that may seem – rather than saving it. Herein lay my dilemma. A decision had to be made. God left me alone to make it on my own, governed only by the truth in my heart. He knew that I would have said yes to whatever He would have told me. But this time, He wanted to say yes to me.

The next day God came back to me and sat me down for a little chat. He reminded me of the first time that He spoke to me about my life purpose on this earth. He said that I would “change” the world, not “save” it. There is a difference. Knowing the difference alters the way that He wants me to approach the work that I do for Him from this point forward.

God created me to be a walking ball of tenacious of fire fueled by a tiger’s spirit. I can stamp out social ills on a much smaller scale and still have a worldwide impact. For instance, I spent the summer homeschooling my 6-year old nephew to prepare him for first grade. Watching his growing love for books and skyrocketing academic achievement in just a few short weeks has influenced my decision the most. Should he become the scientist who finds a cure for a terminal illness or invents a life-saving device, then putting family first will have “saved the world” after all!

Impact on the “Walk” Campaign

The “Walk” is a unique primary prevention campaign that can certainly continue without me actually walking the country. All infrastructure and systems are now in place to collect and feature family stories via our various online communities. We are interviewing and staffing volunteer Ambassadors now in preparation for an October 1, 2010 Relaunch.

Opportunity to Celebrate

My personal story throughout this journey has shed light on the need to find balance between work and family, prioritize career and family, reconcile spiritual devotion and family, and fulfill one’s obligations to life purpose and family. I dedicate the eventual success of this campaign to my family, and I thank them for showing me the way to that which is most important.

Share your story on our official Sights n Sounds Blog.

Posted via email from Walk a Week in Your Shoes

Week 22: Walking onto the Oprah Winfrey Network

2010-06-12T17:34:00.001-05:00

Will the Walk reach the millions of television viewing families?

All of our loyal followers know that these past few months have been as triumphant as they have been disheartening. I certainly do not regret cancelling the Walk to stay home with my mom during her health crisis. (Great news, by the way. We just find out that she does not need surgery!) Such a decision epitomizes the spirit of the Walk, embodies strong families in action. In the meantime, I have also witnessed and experienced more magical times with other members of my family. I must admit that while these experiences have been priceless, I've been feeling ansy, anxious to hit the road, primed to fulfill my duty to helping families around the globe. A few weeks ago, I asked God to grant me a road trip--anything to clear my head and reset my resolve.

In response to my request, I learned about Oprah's search for creative shows to be produced on her new Oprah Winfrey Network (OWN). I certainly have an idea for my OWN show! Could this be the medium by which the Walk regains its footing and starts moving again? There was only one way to find out: attend the audition.

Again, my family came through for me. This past week has been hectic for me to say the least. As such, I was still scrambling on Friday to finish up all of my business and prepare for the audition. My mother--who maybe slept for an hour last night-- drove me four hours away to Plano, TX to attend the audition. I spent for the first 2.5 hours of the drive completing the lengthy application and the other 1.5 hours getting my only sleep in a 24 hour period. When we arrived, I strapped on my pack, turned on my light, and walked onto the set of the Oprah Winfrey Network auditions.

See the full gallery on posterous

Of course, everyone looked very professional and ready for a comfy couch on a sophisticated set. Of course, I did not! I was dressed for action and ready for action. Needless to say I stuck out like a sore thumb which is a good thing in my book. As happens while I walk, everyone wanted to know about the blinking light. The greatest thing was not sharing the Coalition's vision and purpose of the Walk though; the gem came in meeting other people, hearing their visions, and encouraging them to go for it.

All in all, I had a blast on just 1.5 hours of sleep. My mom stuck by me the entire time on 1 hour of sleep taking pictures and making sure that I had everything that I needed. Her presence there and her support made the entire experience worth the trip whether or not the Walk is selected for a TV show.

I believe the pitch went well, and I am just waiting to see if I get called back for an on-camera audition tomorrow.

I'll keep you posted!

Sapphire

Posted via web from Walk a Week in Your Shoes

Filling Family Voids: On my way to embrace my paternal heritage

2010-04-11T12:48:00.001-05:00

Week 13: Finding and Connecting the Missing Family Pieces

A few weeks ago, I shared a story about the importance of Going Back to Move Forward—about filling family voids. No matter how successful we become in overcoming life’s challenges, the one thing that we cannot do is escape our roots. Within the hour, I will turn my rhetoric into reality when I meet with paternal relatives to finally embrace a heritage that has been lost to me for 30 years.

This is my choice. And it is this power of choice that will lead me through the fear of rejection and hopeless wilderness of bitter feelings that threaten to derail this process. Earlier in the week, I shared an intimate realization with my friends on Facebook. Since that insight influenced my decision to reach out to my paternal family, I have decided to share it with all of you in the spirit of the Coalition’s journey to Celebrate Strong Families.

How to Receive Your Heart’s Desires (April 7, 2010)

I have just put this whole thing together – the secret, the key that I’ve been searching for, praying for, and wishing for. I am not driven by the desires of my heart but rather by the voids therein. Our heart’s desires come from a place of purity, a source of divinity. Thus, they are in perfect balance by nature. However, the voids, the blanks, and the unfinished business in our hearts disrupt this perfect balance and turns something so beautiful and so natural into a fight for survival.

This is the meaning of the vision I had about Sal a few weeks ago when I felt like I was doomed to make the same mistakes. Sal—a great man for whom I cared deeply and who died almost 14 years ago—is a void in my heart that I obviously still haven’t completely filled. Straddling it is the beautiful desire planted in my heart by God to have a family of my own. Any shift in my life, in my thinking, or in my emotions disrupts this delicate balancing act. The void shifts and tilts, and in slides the beauty of God’s promises to me. In order to save them—to keep them from being swallowed up into that darkness—I amplify them, try to augment them somehow so that they become too big to be eaten up by the void. So that they become invincible. So that they come true.

This is how I’ve lived my life up until this point. I have had so many voids and emotional holes that I overcompensated and tried to force something good to happen so that my dreams wouldn’t be lost to me forever. Yet, in the end, I pushed away the very thing I was trying to embrace. In the end, the void was still there. Nothing can stop its destructive forces but to properly fill it with that which was missing in the first place. It’s like trying to build a house along a fault line. You can build it solidly—perfectly—but one false move of external circumstances and the whole thing will come crumbling down. I have to fill the void with like materials, with the original missing material, with the original truth, before anything solid can be built and can survive.

I finally get that. I finally understand that. I have flirted with this idea and spoke about it, but it didn’t really click until now. I have filled many voids by reconnecting and rebuilding my relationship with my immediate family over these past 2 years. So much of the love that I incessantly sought in romantic relationships, I found in my mom, siblings, nieces and nephews—for that was the love that was originally missing. That was the love I was actually longing for.

I have filled the void left by losing Sal—well almost. There is still about 1-3% left in order to completely level it off. At the present moment, I don’t know what that is or what’s needed to finally transform that hurt into peace. Then, there are 2 more voids to fill: (1) my dad and knowing my paternal heritage and (2) my maternal grandfather and knowing that heritage. No husband and children will fill the loss of love that exists in my heart by not having these two figures in my life. I have to fill those holes with as much of the original material as is possible. My grandfather is gone, but I can still try to learn who he was and learn about his family and meet those relatives. My dad is still here, and I can learn as much about his family as well.

Once I do that, I know that when God presents me with the man that He has chosen to be my life partner and delivers to me the children that He has introduced me to so many times in my visions—I know that I will welcome them into my life because they will make my happiness sweeter and not because I am trying to overcompensate for the unhappiness left by past losses. When that moment comes, I know that I will be able to calmly walk towards my destiny because I will no longer be running from a troubled past.

Our heart’s desires are not planted there by our Higher Power to compensate for past hurts. They are gifted to us simply because God knows that those desires brought to life will be the icing on the cake. But first, the cake has to already be baked, molded, and cooled before you can begin to decorate it.

If life isn’t going quite the way you envisioned it for yourself, find what went missing in your past and fill that void with the original truth. Only then can you receive and enjoy all the blessings you were meant to have.

An Opportunity to Celebrate

I will repeat my comments from the Week 10 post. The time has finally come for me to go back and fill in the missing pieces of my family, my ancestry. Moving forward with the Walk demands that I take a walk back down a path that’s been hidden from view. I need to know where I came from. I need to know who I am. I need to fill the void with the only substance that will satiate my deepest yearnings—the truth. Where there is truth, there is also acceptance and fulfillment. And where there is acceptance and fulfillment, there is love and healing. I am excited!

Share Your Story

I invite you to share how you have taken the initiative to oust old resentments and bitterness and reached out to family members from which you have become separated. How did it enhance the bond with your current family members? How did the new knowledge affect other aspects of your life personally and professionally? Did the new connections and bonds continue to grow?

Please share your story as a comment to this post on our official Sights ‘n Sounds Blog to offer encouragement for individuals seeking to fill their own family voids.

Follow your heart and you shall never be led astray.

Posted via email from Walk a Week in Your Shoes

Will the Walk continue? The Verdict is In

2010-04-09T23:33:00.001-05:00

Week 13: Life is the Sum of All Your Choices

At my stopping point on Day One of the Walk, I saw a sign that read, “Life is the sum of your choices.” At the time, I thought it was about the fruits of staying the course in the face of adversity or the consequences of giving up. Nonetheless, its deeper meaning breezed by my conscious awareness and understanding undetected. The fate of the Walk a Week in Your Shoes campaign, as well as the trajectory of my personal life, both hinge upon the choice that I have finally made.

The dramatic events over the past three months unfolded in a manner far different from the original vision I received. God knew that hitting the open road and walking around the country with nothing but a backpack and a prayer appealed to my strong sense of individualism and adventure. Ergo, that’s the vision He presented to me. And I jumped at it full force as He knew I would. Just as quickly however, He injected family elements that only a cold-hearted, uncaring person could ignore. Although my mom’s health crisis turned the situation into a drama fit for one of today’s reality shows, God knew that it would take something that dramatic to slice through my strong-willed—almost defiant—personality. God knew that only something that dramatic would push me to view my life, my motivations, and my choices in a different light. Finally, everything is illuminated.

This campaign aims to celebrate the principles, beliefs, and choices that individuals integrate into their everyday lives to build up their families. Yes, personally walking the roads of our nation to discover and promote these practices certainly demonstrated my commitment to the cause. However, I did not realize that as the leader of this effort, I, too, had to embody the spirit of the Walk in my personal life. Postponing that feeling of wind-blowing-through-the-hair freedom to make sure my mother was okay ignited a sense of duty to my family that I had only vaguely felt and fleetingly considered before that moment.

To successfully lead the Coalition and this campaign, my perceptions and individualistic thinking needed to be transformed into family-oriented thinking. How can I really understand the challenges that families face and how they overcome them when a decade has passed since I had really participated in one? I cannot promote something that I don’t practice. I saw the extreme worry and fear my mom carried around just before the Walk started until I suspended it. I am certainly not one for allowing someone else’s fear to hinder my actions or decisions. However, this was different. Her physical health was being affected by the idea that her baby would be out there all alone. Although I would gladly give my life for the cause, clearly it’s not about me anymore.

Ergo, with peace in my heart, I have decided to permanently cancel the actual walking aspect of the campaign. I still believe it is a superb idea. I just cannot be the one to carry out. Instead, the Coalition will continue a “virtual” walk along the planned route using community and family gatherings to collect stories and feature families in those cities and towns. This was actually an additional part of the original campaign strategy but will now be the primary mode of operation.

An Opportunity to Celebrate

This is actually good news! By not spending precious hours walking down stretches of U.S. highways surrounded only by cows, I am free to participate in other much needed areas to spread the campaign internationally as well as on the home front. After all, we are the International Freedom Coalition! In all honestly, I was never really at peace with us just covering the U.S.

Share Your Story

I invite you to share your experiences with making choices that honored your family’s needs. What were the results? How did you maintain a sense of independence or individualism while being a responsible team player in the family?

Please share your story as a comment to this post on our official Sights ‘n Sounds Blog to provide helpful guidance to others trying to find their way.

Life is the sum of all your choices. Choose consciously to create the life you desire.

Posted via email from Walk a Week in Your Shoes

Going Back to Move Forward

2010-03-23T12:01:00.001-05:00

Week 10: Finding the Missing Family Pieces

The Walk a Week in Your Shoes campaign is all about family. Thus, I should not be surprised that the apparent setbacks the Coalition has faced are mere prompts for its leader to stay back and get her own house in order. After all, how can I promote the ideal of strong families for a better future when there are gaping holes left unrepaired in my own? I cannot give what I do not have.

You’ve watched me go through a roller coaster transformation to reset and deepen my relationship with my mom and siblings. Although I wish the impetus did not come at the expense of my mother’s health, I am grateful. However, there is another side of my family story that remains largely blank. My dad’s side. Only now that I have peace with the family that raised me can I summon the courage to find the family that eluded me.

My parents divorced when I was five years old at which time my mom, siblings, and I moved in with my grandmother. I didn’t often see my dad through the years nor did I have much interaction with my aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents. I remember one of my dad’s brothers attending every one of my brother’s high school football games. I really don’t remember him missing one. He would always ask me if I was doing well and would give me a $1 or so to buy a soda or something. I always looked forward to seeing him. Each time I did felt so special. I guess God is thoughtful like that. Since my dad couldn’t be there, He sent somewhat of a related surrogate to fill part of the gap. Even though my interaction with this uncle was limited to these sporting events, I felt a huge loss when he passed away many years later.

No Escaping Your Roots

Seven years ago, I legally changed my full name to Sapphire Jule King. At the time, I only had two years of sobriety and was just beginning to accept the truth of painful events in my past. I needed to distance myself from those old behaviors and thought patterns so that I could live sober. I desperately wanted to completely separate myself from my past. On the name change application, they asked why I was requesting the change. I described it as having a green beans label on a can of tomato soup. The label does not accurately describe what you will find inside. That’s how I felt every time I heard someone call me by the name I was given at birth. To me, that name described a drunken, depressed woman who did not know her worth—symbolized someone completely different—and made me cringe every time I heard it. I was undergoing a spiritual rebirth. I needed a new name.

Sapphire came to me effortlessly although at the time I did not understand the symbolic or spiritual meaning of neither the word nor the gem. Jule is in honor of my maternal late aunt who passed away from breast cancer. I always loved her middle name—Jewel. But, I had an issue with the last name. When you start with a first and middle name like Sapphire and Jule, you can’t just throw a last name like Smith or Hall into the mix. It just doesn’t work! I played around with other surnames like Royal (my cousin’s last name at the time) and silly ones like Regal. All the while I kept coming back to King. I fought it. My last relationship was with a guy whose last name was King. In short, it was an ugly relationship that warranted no reminders. I didn’t want to sign my name and think of him. I didn’t want him to find out and view it as a sign that I wanted him back… I did not. I didn’t want to face the disapproving glare of my mother. I didn’t want to hear the whispers of anyone with any knowledge of that prior connection. But, for some reason, the name just seemed to fit. It belonged.

And God told me, “This is your name.” Thus, in spite of how wrong it seemed, I went with how right it felt. I followed where Spirit led me.

Six years later, I received a hidden treasure from an unexpected place. This past November, I was sitting in the Toyota Center waiting for my grad school commencement to start. My brother called me on my cell to tell me that one of my paternal aunts was graduating from the business school. All business majors were seated directly in front of me. The only problem was I didn’t know what she looked like. I had no memory of her. She could have been one of the ladies sitting in front of me, but I had no way of knowing.

When I walked onto the arena floor, I saw my other paternal aunts standing by my mom and brother cheering me on, sending me air hugs and kisses, and lots of big smiles. I felt an unexpected twinge of joy—unexpected because I still harbored deep resentments for anything “dad” related. However, I was not prepared for the exaltation soon to come.

Outside of the arena, one of my aunts said, “King, huh?” I quickly glossed over the spiritual rebirth explanation, anxious not get into it.

She then looked at me and said, “You know you are a King.”

Huh? She began to explain that I had relatives predating my paternal grandmother in the family tree who were Kings. Three sisters. All girls. I was stunned. King is my birthright! God was right when He told me that King was my name. As with so much of my life since my spiritual rebirth, I was extremely excited that I followed the direction of Spirit when changing my name instead of giving in to my own fears and possible disapproval of others. I have a path to walk which is undoubtedly unconventional. The moment I heard my aunt speak those words, I felt like my whole life—with all its weird twists and turns—had been validated.

An Opportunity to Heal

My aunts invited us to the party they were having in honor of my graduating aunt. There, they began to explain some of my family history to me. I usually never leave home without a journal or some scrap of paper to write on. That day, I had none. Not even my writing pen! I now know that was by divine design. Since I cannot remember what they told me, it forces me to take the steps that I never would have considered. Today, I gladly do so with nothing but peace and love in my heart.

The time has finally come for me to go back and fill in the missing pieces of my family, my ancestry. Moving forward with the Walk demands that I take a walk back down a path that’s been hidden from view. I need to know where I come from. I need to know who I am. I need to fill the void with the only substance that will satiate my deepest yearnings—the truth. Where there is truth, there is also acceptance and fulfillment. And where there is acceptance and fulfillment, there is love and healing. I am excited!

Share Your Story

I invite you to share how you have found such hidden family treasures in unexpected places and in unexpected ways. How did it enhance the bond with your family members? How did the new knowledge affect other aspects of your life personally and professionally?

Please share your story as a comment to this post on our official Sights ‘n Sounds Blog to offer encouragement for individuals seeking to fill their own family voids.

Follow your heart and you shall never be led astray.

Posted via email from Walk a Week in Your Shoes

Career Decisions for the Greater Good of the Family

2010-03-03T10:23:00.001-06:00

Week 6: Career Decisions for the Greater Good of the Family

Fasting to Feed the Spirit, Vital to Helping Others

Each time I fast and undergo an intensive cleanse, I never know what to expect. A small part of my human nature tightens with apprehension; it knows that the massive flood of spiritual insights is not far behind. Needless to say, my latest fasting adventure did not disappoint. Each time, I emerge more amazed at how the simple removal of food—a basic necessity for our survival—connects us with a nutrient even more basic to our very existence. Our spirit nature.

This fast unfolded in a surprisingly unique way than my fasts of the past. Previously, I would completely disconnect from the outside world, taking comfort in the solitude of my home. In turn, I learned how I used food, email, and over-scheduling to distract me from pursuing some desire deep in my heart. However, my cleanse over these past two weeks unveiled truths on a completely different level. Although I initially sought out guidance for continuing the Walk, I received the most loving direction for my personal life which, in turn, directly impacts the Walk a Week in Your Shoes campaign.

This cleansing quest stands out as the first time I’ve fasted while living with my family. I’ve always been alone before. Even when I did cleanses during the last two years that I’ve lived with my mom since returning to the States, I found a way to disconnect and retreat into my own little shell. This time, however, seclusion was not an option. I quickly realized the theme for this cleanse—connection, inclusion, sharing, family. On my first day, God sent me back to the beach where the Walk began. Whenever I am there, or near any body of water, I know that there is no barrier between God and me. I know that the information I receive is the truth and is of the utmost importance. No rationalizing allowed. No second guessing allowed. Whatever I receive, stands as is. Immediately, His probing questions and guiding messages began flooding my senses. He wasted no time asking me to shift my priorities yet again.

“If I were to ask you to stay in La Porte and establish a home and family of your own instead of walking the country, would you do it?” I conspicuously failed to answer the question immediately. Instead, I continued my back and forth walking meditation along the shore.

He probed again, “If I gave you everything that you need in a way that suits your wants, would you stay in La Porte and establish a home and a family of your own instead of walking the country?” A thousand thoughts and considerations rushed through my mind. None of them remotely resembled staying in La Porte, Texas. It’s a great, close-knit community on the bay no doubt. However, after living in Barcelona and finally experiencing such a walkable, open-air, diverse city with yet a small-town community feel, I just could not picture myself living long-term in the Houston area.

Suddenly, Spirit stopped me dead in my tracks. My body seemed to move beyond my conscious control. I began to see a picture forming in my mind’s eye. There sat my mother 10-15 years older, obviously moving much slower than she is now, almost looking like my late grandmother during the dusk of her years. Vitality had long since packed up and moved on to someone else much younger. I could see three young children running around her chair, engaging her in their little game. She participated as much as she could, but the kids didn’t seem to mind her lack of mobility. The pep of youth may have been absent, but the smile on her face was present with newly born joy.

I could feel God standing right next to me, pondering this picture in my mind with me. More gently this time, He whispered in my ear, “Your mother may have only 10 or 15 more years left on this earth, Sapphire. That may seem like a lot of time from your perspective given that you’ve already had 35 years with her. However, consider a different view. If it were possible for you to have children right now, in this moment, she would not get to see them graduate from high school. Your children would only have 10 or 15 years with their grandmother. Now, consider that you don’t know when you will have children. Will you deny your mother that joy? Will you deny your children the privilege of spending as much time with her as they can while they can?”

The scant tears that do form since I had my eye surgery raced for the hills of my cheekbones and slid down the valleys of my cheeks. An unknown clamp which stubbornness had placed around my heart released and was washed away by the gentle flow of tears. “God, come on, I don’t want to think about this,” I drawled as one of the last scenes from Field of Dreams where Joe says, “I think you better stay, Ray” quickly dashed across my mind.

His only reply to me was, “Will you stay in La Porte until your mother no longer needs you?” He repeated it only once before I even had a chance to answer, “Yes. Yes, I will stay.”

An Opportunity to Heal

Since completing that spirit walk with God last week, I have found myself being gentler with my mother, more loving, more caring. I wish I could say that I didn’t believe that I could be more loving, but that would not be the truth. After receiving that vision about her mortality, I feel myself taking a more grounded, steady interest in her health and well-being. Whereas before I would just say to myself, “Oh, she’ll be fine” and flit off to the next thing that I wanted to do, I am now staying connected. I find myself unplugging from my work earlier so that I could go buy groceries and cook dinner as she gets home from work. I must admit that this feels weird for me. I feel like the world will come to an end if I am not working sunup to sundown.

During my move from Barcelona back to the States, I lived with a friend in Barna for a couple of months while I finalized all the arrangements. He had a little girl about a year old at the time. I would be glued to my laptop and he would bring her into the room where I was working, plop her down in my lap, and say, “Let’s remind Sapphire of what’s important.” Of course, I knew what he meant, but I have to say that I didn’t get it until now. I didn’t absorb what he meant on a deep level. Quite frankly, I wouldn’t allow myself to absorb his meaning because I was so used to being alone and doing my own thing however I wanted to do it whenever I wanted to do it. Nevertheless, over the course of this fast in the absence of external distractions and in the pure presence of Spirit and family, I finally surrendered to that which lies buried deep in my heart.

I do want to change. I do want to pursue life a little differently than I have before. I do want to incorporate family matters more fully into my life rather than only being gung ho about work. I eschewed the erroneous belief that the presence of others—my family namely—was a distraction from fulfilling my life purpose. Until that vision forced me to surrender to the truth in my heart, I didn’t even realize that I held this belief. Then, my spirit floated a song into my conscious awareness to wrap my lesson up nicely for me: Tracy Chapman’s “For You.”

No words to say
No words to convey
This feeling inside I have for you

Deep in my heart
Safe from the guards
Of intellect and reason
Leaving me at a loss
For words to express my feelings

Deep in my heart
Deep in my heart
Look at me losing control
Thinking I had a hold
But with feelings this strong
I'm no longer the master
Of my emotions

For the first few days after receiving this wisdom, I felt nervous, shaky, and borderline terrified. It’s scary to completely surrender to everything in my heart which God illuminated for me. Some of the truths therein go beyond all human logic and rational belief. But, we are also spirit beings as well, governed by a different set of rules. Finally, I just turned my attention to the present moment and asked God what I could do to help my mom. “Your programs. Use your programs. I will show you what she needs specifically.” Oh, yeah… duh! I never thought to have my mother complete the personal transformation programs that I offer through my business. Not sure how that escaped me!

Continuing the Walk

Obviously, only God knows how long I will need to “stay until my mother no longer needs” me. That could be until April, June, or the year 2015. I am sure He will let me know when I need to know. Thus, in lieu of this information, He did give me guidance for continuing the Walk in another manner that would still realize our set goal of celebrating strong families while keeping me in close proximity to my mother. It remains to be seen when and if I return to the road. Stay tuned.

I have called a meeting with the Coalition’s Core Members to discuss the specifics of this new strategy. We will announce the new plan as soon as possible. Not matter how we continue, the Walk a Week in Your Shoes campaign still proves to be an exciting and uplifting undertaking that will spread hope, healing, and support to millions of families across the globe.

Share Your Story

I know that I am not the first person to make career decisions for the greater good of the family. I can imagine that countless men and women and thousands of moms and dads have decided to relocate the family or establish roots where they are because it was best for the family although the opposite choice may have seemed better for their careers.

I invite you to share how your family worked through these decisions and fared in the end. What were the issues and how did you resolve them?

Please share your story as a comment to this post on our official Sights ‘n Sounds Blog to offer real-world guidance to a family who may be struggling for solutions right now.

For love and family,

Posted via email from Walk a Week in Your Shoes

Tiger Woods: Kick him while he's down. or build him up?

2010-02-19T12:25:00.001-06:00

Week 5: Support for Separated Families

As a private citizen, I feel perturbed by the fact that Tiger Woods had to make a public statement about his private life. Yes, Tiger is an extremely talented individual who has the opportunity to express his talent in a profession that is inherently high profile. He does not have the luxury of working in an office building where only his co-workers know his name while he appears as nothing more than a phantom to rest of those around him. He does not have the luxury of flying under the radar if something goes terribly wrong in his private life which does not affect his ability to get the job done.

Wait a minute, working in an office is a luxury compared to “working” on the greatest golf courses around the world? Yes, from a privacy aspect, it is a luxury. When life crumbles around those of us who are not public figures, we can still go out in the world without the majority of the people knowing what happened or assuming they have the right to demand explanations. We have a built-in sense of security and comfort that allows us time and space to sort through our problems at our own pace.

I have known super intelligent individuals who were highly skilled at producing results in their respective professions. I have seen some of them take a few missteps in their private lives which hurt the people who cared about them but did not affect their job performance. However, I did not see their superiors, co-workers, neighbors, and strangers following them around pressing for comments, salacious details, or public apologies. Instead, I saw people reaching out to offer support. Grant it, some people did turn their backs. A few people did attempt to exploit the situation and bury these professionals for their choices outside of the workplace. Yet, others simply offered support.

I do not agree with Tiger’s personal choices. I am not in any way saying that his actions were okay. Excusable? No, not in my opinion. Forgivable? That depends on the parties involved which are his wife, himself, and his Higher Power. I will not probe the specifics of Tiger’s life and latest events any further in this article. I do not feel it’s any of my business nor do I believe this is the proper forum for such a discussion.

An Opportunity to Heal

However, as a representative of the International Freedom Coalition and the Walk a Week in Your Shoes campaign to Celebrate Strong Families, I would like to use the Woods’ situation as an opportunity to flood the internet, our conversations, and our conscious minds with something positive, something educational, something uplifting, something healing.

Share Your Story

For men and women who have found themselves in a domestic situation similar to that of the Woods’, I invite you to share how your family overcame such a challenge. What were the issues and how did you resolve them? Even if the partnership ended in separation or divorce, how did you maintain a strong relationship with your children and ex-spouse? How did you apply the lessons from that challenge to create stronger bonds in subsequent relationships?

Please share your story as a comment to this post on our official Sights ‘n Sounds Blog to offer real-world guidance to a family who may be struggling for solutions right now.

In forgiveness,

Posted via email from Walk a Week in Your Shoes

How do I choose?

2010-02-15T05:30:00.001-06:00

I can see clearly now. I needed the entire week of nothingness to clear out the cobwebs of old beliefs so that new and improved ones could shine through. The dilemma—should I stay or should I go. Should I continue my trailblazing efforts to keep children safe or should I stay at home with my mother until she has had her surgery and recovered? The answer I kept hearing immediately and unimpeded was “both.”

I didn’t get it. “Come on, God, how can I possibly do both if I am not out there walking the Walk?”

He only replied, “Take as much time as you need to see the truth.”

“The truth?” I asked with puzzlement clogging my hearing, a sense of duty clouding my understanding. “The truth, kind Sir, is that kids are suffering right now. This Walk cannot stop. I cannot stop. When I can stop hearing their cries and seeing their faces peeking around the corner and feeling their bruises, then I can stop. You’ve made no provisions to stifle my sensitivity so I cannot in good conscience stop walking. You’re making no sense to me right now!”

The truth is—if I am honest with myself—I knew the truth in November when I attended my nephew Kendrick’s football playoff game and burst into tears on his first carry. The truth is after each play date with my five year old nephew Cory, the impulse to play a little longer grew stronger. The truth is the idea of missing Kendrick’s senior baseball season never sat well with me. The truth is I knew Mother would be having surgery while I was on the road, but I never felt at peace about not being with her.

My mother has an aortic aneurysm which, according to WebMD, “is a bulge in a section of the aorta, the body’s main artery. The aorta carries oxygen-rich blood from the heart to the rest of the body. Because the section with the aneurysm is overstretched and weak, it can burst. If the aorta bursts, it can cause serious bleeding that can quickly lead to death.”

The normal diameter limit of the aorta is 3.9 cm. At 5 cm, patients face serious risk of the aorta bursting. My mom’s aorta measures 4.5 cm at last check. The preliminary test that she was scheduled to have one week before Walk a Week in Your Shoes began was needed to show her cardiologist and the surgeons the current measurements. However, someone dropped the ball and failed to order proper sedation for her to undergo the test. The MRI was then rescheduled for January 22, one week after I started the Walk. They still failed to order the proper sedation. Another two weeks passed with her trying and failing to secure a proper appointment for the test. Last Monday, February 8^th, I accompanied her to the visit with her cardiologist originally intended to review the test results and make a determination for surgery.

After much wrangling, the cardiologist’s office finally secured the right type of appointment for the test. An unknown undercurrent of anxiety in my own heart dammed to complete stillness when I heard the words “April 14^th is the earliest appointment they have available.”

My heart kept beating, but I couldn’t feel the blood flowing. I felt as if one big wave of divine knowing gently lapped over my chest and dashed all doubts, quenched all questions, wiped out all worry.

Nonetheless, my spirit-programmed mind marched ahead. “You have to stay, Sapphire. There is no way you can leave until this situation is resolved... Well, I have to go. I have to get back on the road. I must keep this thing going. There are 5.5 million kids in America alone who need this right now. Not to mention the millions of kids around the world. What about the kids in Haiti? I made a commitment to God and to every child on this planet that I would do whatever it took to keep them happy, to keep them safe. I just have to suck it up and deal with it. I’ll be okay… Yes, you might, there is no doubt. But, will your mother be okay? Will your family be okay? What if the aneurysm is at 4.9 cm right now and nobody knows? What if April 14^th never comes? Then what?... This is my call to duty and I must follow it… Fine, is it worth it?... Yes, absolutely… Are you serious?... I don’t know.”

And that’s where I was last week. That was my state of mind, not my state of heart. My conscious awareness needed time to catch up to what God had placed in my heart. I have no idea what I would do without my mother. My grandmother has been gone for seven years now and that still seems unreal to me. No matter how much I wish it to be, Mother is not immortal either. What would I do if something happened and I was out on the road? Even though it is certainly a worthy cause for which I gladly sacrifice my body, my time, and my energy, in the end, is pursuing it worth losing precious time with my mom? Despite what may seem obvious, the answer to this question did not come as a no-brainer for me.

When I regained my sense of self and reclaimed the sense of innocence and freedom that I once believed was lost to me at the hand of my abusers, I whole-heartedly vowed that no child on this Earth would ever question their worth because of how someone mistreated him or her. I made an oath that every child on this planet would be free to be him or herself without fear of being taken advantage of; they would be free to grow into healthy adults even if I had to die for it. In the absence of a strong connection with my family as a result of my traumas and as a result of living alone for nearly a decade, my work became my number one priority.

I am like a tigress ready to rip anyone and anything apart who threatens to encroach upon my renewed sense of freedom. That freedom first manifested in a physical pilgrimage four years ago when I resigned as an engineer, sold my home, gave away my possessions, bought a backpack, and headed to Europe. The very act of leaving it all behind, shucking the rules to follow only the path that God revealed to me, became my idea of freedom.

Since returning to the States two years ago, I reconnected with my family on a deep level. My time with them has been unbelievable. As cliché as it may sound, no one could have paid me to believe that I would have the relationship and closeness with them that I have today. While that is important to me, my life’s work and my freedom are my life. Until now.

When I first received the vision for this Walk, I knew it would transform my life. You cannot pursue something this great and remain the same. Yet, I did not have a clue about what God had planned for me. With the news regarding Mother, He is putting me in the position to prioritize family or work, family or this so-called sense of freedom. Since my work is His work, I feel guilty that I am not fulfilling my purpose on this earth if I fail to realize the visions He gives me. I feel like I am useless unless I am out there blazing the trail. I feel like I will lose my freedom if I don’t get back on the road with my backpack. How can I choose between God, freedom, and family? How can I give up one for the other?

“Come on, God, how can I possibly do both if I am not out there walking the Walk?”

He only replied, “Take as much time as you need to see the truth.”

The truth is my family is the most important aspect of my life now. It wasn't before, not really. I was naïve enough to believe that since I did not have a family of my own, I did not need to consider the impact of my decisions on my immediate family. But family is family, and I have to take care of home first. I am now being called to do just that—take care of home first.

Over this past week, I came to realize that God is not asking me to choose one or the other. He is not asking me to give up something that means the world to me or that literally means the world to Him. He is cleverly setting things right again. He efficiently and effectively put things in proper perspective for me again. He does not want His work to take precedence over family. This is what He is showing me, and I am just starting to feel comfortable accepting that notion. I would not be alive if God had not refused to let me go because I tried. I tried to leave this earth. For that, I owe my life to Him. But I also would not be here if it were not for my family.

I do not hesitate to sacrifice my body, my time, and my energy for the safety of children. However, I will not sacrifice my family. And freedom? Freedom is not so much a state of doing as it is a state of being. I get that now. Yes, walking, backpacking, and doing the unexpected bring me a sense of freedom. But, over the past two years, I have discovered that I feel free when I am playing with Cory, attending Kendrick’s games, watching a Christmas movie with my mom, talking to my sister, swapping jewelry with my niece, listening to my brothers, chatting with my sister-in-law, teasing my nephew Kevin, and checking up on my nephew Vic.

I don't have to walk the nation with a backpack to be free. I am free. Finally.

I also don't have to be a literal trailblazer to make a difference. My unyielding passion and motivation is making a difference in ways that I cannot see.

Now, I am being led to fast this week, get super connected with Spirit, and receive His guidance on how He wants the Coalition to proceed with Walk a Week in Your Shoes. I know God is going to show me how to do all three— have my family while doing His work and maintaining that sense of freedom that I need.

Until then, express gratitude to your family today.

Posted via email from Walk a Week in Your Shoes

Week 4: No, I was not hit by a car!

2010-02-10T11:09:00.001-06:00

Being grounded for the last 18 days afforded me the opportunity to make significant progress on the virtual stack of behind-the-scenes work that relentlessly piled up. The absence of updates caused a friend to message me and ask if I was hit by car! No!

I have been keeping my nose to the grindstone despite my distaste for semi-permanently gluing my behind to a chair with a laptop fused to the tops of my legs. I like to be mobile. I must have movement. I needed to walk, but I couldn’t. I swallowed it and marched on in another way, pushing myself on the inevitable premise that I would soon be out on the road again. After all, my mom’s car was finally repaired last week which meant I could make it back to Eagle Lake to resume the Walk and leave home base for good. But Monday, while accompanying Mother to the doctor for what I thought would have been the last time before I left, I received more news that could potentially alter the course of the Walk.

I have spent these last days in a state of perpetual meditation to ponder the decision that I must now make – how must the Coalition proceed with the Walk. Although the intense introspection over the past couple of days yielded the direction that God wants me to take, I still need to spend a little more time in quiet reflection to accept His terms. I shall explain fully in my next post.

Until then,

Posted via email from Walk a Week in Your Shoes

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2010-02-01T09:16:00.001-06:00

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DAY 13: Gratitude for What I Have

2010-01-27T08:35:00.001-06:00

As I wake up this morning with the clarity of my mind equaling the near completion of my final, final preparations, I can see that I need to thank a few people for their efforts in this project. All the divine “mishaps” over the past week have brought to the forefront just how special my family is which has only added fuel to my resolve for completing the Walk. Without a moment’s hesitation, they have rallied behind me to offer support, encouragement, and much needed funds to purchase items essential to its success.

However, there are a few others who are working just as hard to ensure that the Coalition as well as the project achieves its goals. Monica L. Coleman of The Servant Media and Marvinique Hill of Accounting Analysis & Consulting, LLC comprise the remaining Core Members of the Coalition and supply executive leadership in their areas of expertise. Monica, Chief Communications Officer of the Coalition, is our media specialist while Marvinique, Chief Financial Officer, is ensuring that the Coalition is financially structured for growth and compliance. Like most entrepreneurs, they are overloaded with their own business concerns. Yet, they still find ways to contribute their time, talents, and business resources to the cause. I know without a doubt that neither the Coalition nor this project would have advanced to its present state without their involvement. Thank you, thank you, thank you, Ladies!

I also want to say a special thank you to my sister, Felicia, who not only offered support on the road this past week but who is also working just as hard as the Walk’s Project Manager. Currently, her bachelor’s degree studies in Business Administration place high demands on her time. Yet, just like Monica and Marvinique, she is also juggling the demands of the organization. While I envisioned having a project manager for each of the several components of the Walk, Felicia is it! Besides, she is my sister meaning that she allows me to express myself no holds barred. That takes a LOT of strength! As a byproduct of my spiritual journey back to whole-life health, I no longer hide or dampen the truth of my emotions. If I am feeling overwhelmed, I express it. If I am feeling sad, I express it. If I am feeling joyous, I express it. Thus, at times I am super loud when I am happy (which is always great when I have my little nephew around! We can be loud together!), maybe a bit too forceful (for some) when I need to get my point across, and always, always grateful even when I fail to say so in the moment. So, MeMe, thank you, thank you, thank you! I prayed over and over again to God to make sure that I had at least one person who knew me and with whom I could be 100% me during this Walk. He chose you, and I concur!

Over this past week, I have been so focused on what I didn’t have that I forgot to acknowledge and show complete gratitude for everything and everyone that I do have. I know it is so easy to do especially when working on a project that I am passionate about. However, I must always, always remember first and foremost that at any given moment in time, God is making sure that I have everything that I need even if I think I should have more. I have everything that I need in this moment. I am completely provided for in this moment. This is God’s Walk, and He will make sure that it progresses and succeeds according to His plan and His vision… not mine.

Therefore, one final thank you, thank you, thank you is in order for the Divine Spirit who is orchestrating this entire adventure. Please continue to show me the way.

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Need for volunteers

2010-01-26T22:45:00.001-06:00

emails are starting to flow in as the word gets out. We need enthusiastic people with a few hours to spare to help read submitted stories!

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2010-01-25T15:23:00.001-06:00

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Radio Interview This Afternoon

2010-01-25T14:18:00.001-06:00

My interview appears during the second half of the show but please listen to the entire show from the beginning. Pam Powell who spoke before me had an awesome message. I was so pumped by the time it was my turn to speak!

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Day Nine Adventures: On the road again

2010-01-25T12:00:00.001-06:00

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Day Nine Adventures: Family Angel to the Rescue

2010-01-25T11:50:00.001-06:00

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Day Nine Adventures: Angel on the Road

2010-01-25T11:42:00.001-06:00

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Day Nine Adventures: A sign of things to come...

2010-01-25T11:11:00.001-06:00

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Challenges & Nonsense About Giving Up

2010-01-25T11:09:00.001-06:00

I am a firm believer in everything happens for a reason. In regards to my personal life, I know that everything always happens for my greater good. However, when I hit a road block, I do not always greet it with open arms and kumbaya. I am not in a kumbaya mood at this very moment. I was cool with the car breaking down and not being able to carry on. But the mounting costs for this and that since then is driving me bonkers. My cell phone is inadequate and I am having to upgrade today. Now, my camera decides it doesn’t want to work, and I am having to buy another one. Problem is I have no more money. I have already given everything that I had.

My mom has given everything that she could to supply me with food over these past two weeks, not to mention the past two years that she’s taken care of me while I completed grad school. Because my mom has spent all her money on me, my brother had to buy her a battery. My other brother is helping her buy the alternator, but I cannot contribute one cent. He is also having to help me buy the new phone and now a new camera. After I broke down at the realization that my camera was shot, he just kept telling me “it’s okay. Don’t worry. We’ll get you a new one.”

He was just so supportive and reassuring, but it’s just too much sometimes. Too much.

Sure, it’s all for the best. I will have the equipment I need to capture the stories with clarity, etc. My camera is 4 years old, but it still got the job done. The new camera that I will buy is half the cost as my old one with double the features and quality.

I think my ego is causing my frustration more than anything. For 33 of my 35 years on this earth, I have been super independent I-can-do-it-all-by-myself. In the past, I hated the notion of not being able to take care of myself. I hated the notion of not being able to handle everything on my own. However, the past two years that I have had to rely on my mother and brother have been very humbling. Without that experience, I don’t think that I would have even been able to found the Coalition and invite others in to help me realize the vision that God has given me. I also would not be able to launch and complete this whole campaign in celebration of strong families had I not realized the strength and accepted the comfort of my own.

I know that when I step back and look at how this project started, I will see the beauty of it. My whole family has rallied around to help me get going. Yes, they have questioned the methods J but never the motive. Most important, when I needed help the most to accomplish something that means the world to me, they stepped right in and filled the gaps.

So, this is for my family.

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Untitled

2010-01-25T09:03:00.001-06:00

I am so ready to give up right now. Everything that could go wrong is going wrong. Nothing, NOTHING is going right. Suddenly, my camera is not working. I knew the pictures from Saturday were weird but I thought it was… God I don’t know.

I don’t have $500 to buy another &^@#&^@%# camera!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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The Coalition on Conversations LIVE! Radio Show today

2010-01-25T07:44:00.001-06:00

IFC will be featured on Conversations LIVE! today (Monday) at 12:30pm CT. The show can be heard live at www.blogtalkradio.com/conversationslive or by calling 1.347.426.3645.

Sapphire Jule King will talk about how the "Walk A Week In Your Shoes" campaign is encouraging strong families! SHARE THIS & TUNE IN!

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test Sapphire

2010-01-24T18:39:00.001-06:00

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2010-01-24T18:30:00.001-06:00

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2010-01-24T18:22:00.001-06:00

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DAY NINE Wrap up

2010-01-23T19:52:00.001-06:00

Adventurous is the best way to describe. My brother bought another battery, put it in, and the car stopped on us again as we turned onto my mom’s street! We only had to push it a few feet to her driveway. So, looks like the alternator.

I will write the whole story tomorrow and more details about where I go from here. I just need to go get quiet.

Sapphire

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ok finally got a battery and headed. Sapphire

2010-01-23T15:21:00.001-06:00

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oh no the car stopped again . We are stranded Sapphire

2010-01-23T11:27:00.001-06:00

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oh no! My moms car wont start. Darn! I guess when we get it started we should head back while we can. Darn! Ok god i am giving this up to you. Its ur show

2010-01-23T11:04:00.001-06:00

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finally getting started for the day Sapphire

2010-01-23T10:52:00.001-06:00

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DAY EIGHT rest day. Sitting at memorial hermann while my mom undergoes a preliminary procedure for her upcoming heart surgery Sapphire

2010-01-22T07:49:00.001-06:00

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DAY SIX PICS: Arriving Eagle Lake

2010-01-21T23:12:00.001-06:00

I almost made it but had to stop just 3 miles short of reaching the heart of Eagle Lake. My knee was on the verge of freezing up on me. I had very little bending action left in it. The issues stem from on old minor injury that flares up when I restart any sort of sustained activity. Since I didn’t have the time to walk regularly before starting this project, I have to go through this process along the way. It will be okay in another week or so. Yet, I’m excited to clock 12 miles with my pack. I’ve never done that before in my life!

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DAY SIX PICS: Angels on the Road

2010-01-21T23:05:00.001-06:00

As I headed toward Eagle Lake, I saw this blue car pass me, make a U-turn and come back towards me. The lady driver asked if I was walking for a cause, and I shouted back my answer across two lanes of highway. A couple of hours later, I saw her pass by me again headed back towards Houston. She blew her horn and I waved in acknowledgement. Then a few seconds later, I heard a car slowing behind me. I looked, and it was the blue car again!

She stopped to ask if I was okay. She said, “We passed you a while ago when we were on our way to Eagle Lake and you’re still walking. I just wanted to make sure that you were okay and to see if you needed anything.”

Thanking her for her concern, I was able to explain more in depth the purpose and mission for the Walk. She loved the idea as did her mother who sat in the passenger seat. While she admired my efforts, she expressed further concern for my safety. I told her, “I would be concerned too had this walk not been a vision directly from God. Since He gave it to me and asked me to complete it, I trust that He will provide for my safety. He does so by people like you who I like to call my Angels on the Road. People who stop, ask if I am okay, and if I need anything. I have no doubt that He will always send people like you my throughout these next two years.”

Kim found my choice of words interesting because she works for Angels on Earth Home Health Care in Houston. She said that the founder of the business wanted to do something to help the elderly and provide for their needs with dignity and compassion. Kim and her mother offered a few more words of wisdom and encouragement along with a combined $10 donation.

Cheers to you Kim, Marion, and Angels on Earth Home Health Care!

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DAY SIX PICS: My Cow Friends

2010-01-21T22:49:00.001-06:00

Why do these cows keep following me?!

For the second day in a row, I have had a massive cow following! It’s so funny. First, they stop and stare. I can almost hear them saying something like, “What in the moo is this chick doing?”

Then, the movement starts. First one, then three, then seven, then the whole herd starts trotting in my direction toward the fence. Mind you, I am on the opposite side of the road. So, I stop to talk to them and tell them what I am doing it. The set of cows must have been of Spanish descent because I only spoke to them in Spanish. The second set, only English. Yes, I do talk to animals. All kinds. I am the family member that others want to squash because I won’t let them kill an ant, a spider, nothing. Okay, maybe a cockroach and a fly if it doesn’t get on. At a couple of stops the other day, this bee kept hanging around me and chilling on my leg, arm, and pack. My sister was about freaking out. I just told him to please move it along as I had to go. He didn’t sting me!

So, I just had to look up the animal totems for cows and bees to see what they were trying to tell me.

Cows: The Model Family?

Cows signify love, family values, and the devotion of motherhood. The cow is a strong sturdy animal and knows how to hold its ground. Determined and steadfast the cow can weather storms easily bunching together in sheltered spots standing like stoic statues. Those with cow medicine need to remember to stand in their truth and not let other people influence their decisions. In this way they master any challenge efficiently.

Cows are also intelligent and incredibly observant. They respond to their instinctive knowing and have an uncanny ability to sense danger as well as opportunity. They teach those with this medicine how to develop their perception.

The cow is performing both a duty (providing milk) and a sacrifice (providing meat) for man and is a powerful totem that shows us how to nurture ourselves and honor others. Those with this totem are usually service oriented and put other peoples needs before their own. Sacrificing our personal desires for the common good of all is part of its medicine.

I get the message, although I’d like to also think they were fond of me because I don’t eat them!

Bees: Accomplishing the Impossible through Cooperation and Giving

The Bee is the symbol of accomplishing the impossible through dedication, working hard, and cooperating with others who have similar goals so we can learn how to help each other. Aerodynamically, its body is too large for its wings and should not be able to fly. Although now we understand how it does fly (high rate of wing movement), the Bee remains a symbol of accomplishing anything you put your mind to. When a bee flies into our life, it asks us to pursue our dreams with incredible focus and fertilize our aspirations.

To watch a Bee industriously collecting its nectar from flowers is a very interesting study in patience and calm focused spirit. They fly from flower to flower collecting and pollinating as they go, not only collecting what they need from the flower but also giving it the ability to bear fruit and thus create more flowers. The Bee takes, but also gives back.

The Bee possesses many virtues that are powerful and valuable and which any person would be wise to emulate or divine. One who has the power of the Bee will see enhanced focus and fruitful industriousness; a better sense of cooperation allowing one the ability to contribute more resulting in their own and others ultimate success. Travel, friendship, devotion to family, productive hard work and focused determination are all part of this amazing animals totems.

Sounds a lot like the Walk and the Coalition!

I do actively practice tuning into nature and the animals around me as I believe all solutions to our problems exist in nature. It’s amazing how my problems I’ve solved just by watching what the animals around me do or watching the natural cylces of the weather. Try it! Why are so many yoga poses named and fashioned after animals?!

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DAY SIX PICS: East Bernard - Eagle Lake

2010-01-21T21:58:00.001-06:00

This has been the most challenging day of the Walk so far. Maybe because the first week is coming to a close. Perhaps being only the second full day that I’ve carried the pack has something to do with it. But maybe it’s because I am getting further and further away from home. On Day Four, my mother was starting to freak a little bit and becoming more on edge, I knew, for that very reason. I just didn’t think I would experience those feelings. Walking out there along the open road with nothing but fresh air around affords me the opportunity to consider lots of ideas, possibilities, alternatives. These feelings are not completely my own.

I spent a good deal of time considering how hard this must be on my mom. Mother is not the adventurous type at all. Yes, she supports me in whatever I do, including this, but she doesn’t understanding my chosen methods… especially this! God then spoke to me with such intense clarity that I looked around to see if someone was walking behind me, “Take two days and stay with your mother. No walking tomorrow or Friday.”

Taking Care of Home, Family

My mom is scheduled for heart surgery next month to repair an aneurysm and must undergo a preparatory procedure on Friday. My sister has followed me the last couple of days, and Mother called her practically every 30 minutes. Staying home on the day before her prep procedure I know helped to calm her nerves and keep her skyrocketing blood pressure from shooting through the roof. Being able to go with her on Friday and stay with her all day after the procedure will also help tremendously since I will not be in the area come February.

I am torn about it, definitely. She will be on a mandatory six month medical leave once the surgery is complete. Yet, I have a mission that I have been given to complete. I guess this is in some way a compromise that God has built into this plan of His. While walking and mulling over these latest instructions, I finally understood why for one reason or another, I have had to return home after each day of the Walk this week. Doing so allowed Mother a little more transition time while blessing me with additional prep and recovery time.

Be Gone Ego!

There’s No Place for You When Answering the Call!

I must admit that I have had to tell my ego to zip it these past few days. I have a competitive nature that loves a challenge. However, starting this walk in a manner much different from the way I envisioned it has given me pause. I have no problem taking the leap of faith, answering my higher calling and following God. So, why did I have these feelings of uneasiness about not walking the day’s “planned” miles? EGO! That’s why. Only my ego demands that I stick to the plan as I see it. I am grateful that I have finally learned that at any one time, I only see a small portion of God’s bigger plan. That is by personal request. The depth and breadth of the visions that God shows me are so overwhelming that I just ask Him to stop. Please, show me only what I need to know right now. He has been happy to oblige. Thus, I must always remain fluid enough to change direction as more of His plan comes into view.

Tentative Schedule and Dates

Therefore, I can officially announce that the scheduled route and arrival dates listed on the Follow Us and Events pages on our websites are tentative. I am still heading in the same direction and will still hit the big cities within a day or two of their currently schedule dates. Everything in between is up for grabs!

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DAY FIVE PICS

2010-01-21T20:25:00.001-06:00

Talking to Robin and Carole on the roadside

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DAY FIVE PICS: Lunch at The Cafe

2010-01-21T19:44:00.001-06:00

Although I do not need eat beef, I was anxious to see what else The Café served up. Their Grilled Chicken Salad did not disappoint. Needless to say, after hiking with that heavy pack, I was hungry. This thing was huge! I ate half and saved the other half for dinner. My sister (who was following me) did order the burger and confirmed Carole’s review.

I was curious to meet the guys who were so afraid to come out and ask what I was doing. They were all very friendly, cordial, and accommodating. Phillip (second picture) was perhaps the funniest. When I walked in, he gave me a look that screamed, “Woman are you nuts!” but politely said, “Looks like you’re doing a lot of running…. or something.” I explained the cause and he of course followed with best wishes. I asked if he cared to walk with me as he looked dressed for the occasion. His responded with swift, succinct, “Hell, no.” Oh, I wanted to die laughing.

The Family that Plays Together Stays Together

During lunch, Carole regaled us with stories about how much she “adores” her kids and their respective spouses. A mother who actually likes her daughter-in-law and son-in-law? No, she loves them! Now, my curiosity was piqued. This is a story that I had to hear. She declined to go on camera forcing me to listen intently while I forked cubes of chicken into my mouth. As I mentioned in the last post, she and her husband are avid adventurers. They have lived out of their backpacks for six months, lived in Angola and Nigeria, and are planning a coast to coast biking trip which starts next month.

I asked Carole about the qualities that her son-in-law and daughter-in-law possess which causes her to be so effusive with praise. Simply put, “they take time to play.” They engage in lots of outdoor activities. Her son-in-law once planned a hiking trip even though he was afraid of heights. The rest of the family supported him along the way and allowed him to go at his own pace and complete the hike in his own time. The same son-in-law is, in turn, supportive of his wife’s demanding career and work schedule. Carole’s daughter is finishing her residency and works crazy hours. Carole says he just picks up the slack at home when and where needed without any question. “He just adores her!”

The Community that Plays Together Stays Together

I also asked my lunch hosts about the East Bernard sign I saw as I entered. Why is this town such “a good place to live?” The number one answer was, “The whole community goes to the high school football games.” Sounds a lot like La Porte!

Robin graciously offered to be my Family for the Night. However, since the nearest athletic store was in Houston, I returned home once again to buy more appropriate technical clothing for warmer weather. I was thrilled at the offer needless to say.

In the spirit of community, I am not sure who paid the check. Carole invited us but no money ever exchanged hands. The Café was nearing its closing time when we arrived, and we literally closed down to the place. We all walked out together. I am inclined to believe that the curious, yet humble owners silently waived the tab.

Nevertheless, cheers to you Carole, Robin, Phillip, and The Café of East Bernard!

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DAY FIVE PICS: Carole and Robin - Angels on the Road

2010-01-21T18:16:00.001-06:00

Just about one mile from the center of town, I saw this lady pull off the road ahead of me and look back in my direction. The animated look on her face told me that she was more than excited about me walking for cause. I thought to myself, “There has to be a deeper connection here.”

Sure enough, she is an avid backpacker who has hiked the Appalachian Trail, areas in Angola, Nigeria, France, and other places. Carole (pictured, right) and her husband are also planning a coast to coast bike trip starting in a couple of months. She could see that I was hot and immediately started offering words of wisdom from experience. I explained that I poured every last dime that I had in cash and credit into the formation of the Coalition and into buying gear. Thus, I had to buy the essentials that I did not have and make do with what I already owned even though it may not be the most efficient or lightweight choice. Nearly stopping me mid-sentence, she pulled out $40 and said, “No here’s what you need to get.” And the list began! You have no idea how grateful I was for her donation and her advice because I was suffering!

After a couple minutes, I saw another lady crossing the street towards us. Robin (left) worked at an eatery across the street and told us in an amused tone that everyone in the restaurant wanted to know what I was doing but was too afraid to ask. So they sent her! After explaining the Walk to her, Carole’s eyes lit up in an instant. “Have you eaten your lunch for the day? The Café has the best burgers. Let’s go have lunch.”

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DAY FIVE PICS: Entering East Bernard

2010-01-21T17:48:00.001-06:00

I was excited to see their sign which said, “East Bernard A Good Place to Live.” I needed that after my unpleasant encounter with Kyle a few miles back. Just a few short steps later, I found out why that sign existed…

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