I’ve been at this for seven and a half years now, and when I tell some people how long I’ve been trying to return back to self-sustainability through employment and affordable housing, they exclaim, “Why so long? It’s easy to find a job!”.
In fact, that’s a common refrain I hear on morning shows where the topic is about poverty and homelessness. “There’s jobs everywhere! It’s easy to get out of homelessness and find work!”
I’m going to sidestep the comment about jobs just lying around everywhere, like leaves during fall. I’ve mentioned the Age Of Austerity and the Jobless Recovery being a factor in the lack of entry level employment enough times in this blog — with reputable links to reports and studies — to prove that point wrong.
Whenever I hear comments like “it’s easy” bandied about, it confirms my suspicion that society is losing its collective grasp on proper usage of the English language. It’s right up there with “you’re racist” as a rebuttal for a disagreement, or “s/he was cancer in my life” just because someone had a bad relationship with another.
The phrase, “it’s easy” means something can be done without great effort and difficulty. Lifting 5 kilogramss, for example, is easy. Breaking something by dropping it is also easy. Anything that is easy is attainable without really trying. Lifting 500 kilograms or breaking something by using a feather, on the other hand, is not easy. It’s damned hard in fact.
So, is finding a job easy? Let’s break the process of finding a job into stages, and ask if each stage of this process is easy to do.
Before I begin, I am going to focus on the job search itself, and not drag in external factors like homelessness, illness (both mental and physical), and low income as part of the analysis.
You have to first have motivation to find work. If the will to look for work is there, that’s easy to do. There are many places to go look, both online and in real time. That does not mean you will get a job easily. It will improve your chances in finding one (anything beats a 0% chance from not trying!) but it does not make landing a job easy. There’s other factors.
Such as experience — both education and work — that is needed to land the job. Is it easy to get experience? No! Experience comes from time spent while at a training institution or working. You cannot buy experience like a service or product and have it ready to use. Some qualifications for a job require a lot of experience, so if you want to be say a doctor or a nuclear engineer, that is going to take a lot of experience. That in turn requires a lot of time to spend and perhaps even money. I’ve written on my blog about the danger of employment being available only for the rich so I won’t spend time on the money part.
Does a professional well-written résumé get you a job? The answer to that is no. Résumés do not get you a job. They get you an interview for a job, which is the next stage in the process. Is it easy to ace an interview? Sure, if you play the game right. I’ve aced a lot of interviews over seven and a half years but I haven’t found a job yet. Why? What happened? This is where we get to the heart of the “finding work is easy” debate.
You have to compete against other job seekers. You can try your hardest to impress and hit all the right points during the interview, but ultimately it is someone else who will decide if you are hired for the job. Sometimes the reason you were not picked was a good one: you were not qualified for the position, or someone had that “extra” that you did not have but the company could use (the ability to speak in a language other than English or French for example). Other times it can seem unfair, or might even be unfair — employment equity hiring, racism, sexism, ageism, the hiring manager or decision maker was a total asshole, or perhaps the company was not access-friendly.
Landing a job is not easy. That doesn’t mean giving up on looking for work. What it does mean is never underestimate the time and effort needed for a job search, or assume someone’s failure to find a job came from laziness.
After all, that’s the reason why employment assistance centres and career coaches tell job seekers to treat a job search like a job.
The question you’ll most likely be asked in a men’s shelter is “How did you end up here?” I sometimes ask myself that a lot, usually in bewilderment, because I figured I was the least likely person to end up in such a place. I answer I was evicted but not for bad behaviour. The details of my eviction can be read here.
Nevertheless, people will still assume that because I ended up in a shelter, I must have done something wrong. It’s like a new arrival at a prison saying, “I did nothing wrong! I was framed!” and the other prisoners snickered, “Sure you didn’t”.
Hey, maybe the person was innocent. Maybe some digging needs to be done to get the story about what really happened.
This brings me to the picture in this post.
My neighbour and I, as well as the other tenants living in the group home, were told we were all out so the place could be renovated and sold. We all had choices of how to deal with this.
My choice was to mourn later and start looking for a place to stay before my time ran out. I informed my landlord I acknowledged receipt of the eviction notice, informed my family and wrote on my blog and made a video about the news, scaled back on my job search to accomodate a very aggressive search for housing before my time ran out. While I was doing this, I gave away what I could and threw out what no one wanted. I did in fact fail to find a place and out the door I went to a men’s shelter.
My neighbour decided to take a rather disastrous direction. She decided to fight the landlord and pointedly stated she was not going to move until 90 days after the eviction notice was given, claiming that is the law. I did a bit of quick research and according to an article in the Toronto Star, tenants must be given 60 days to vacate. This is done through a clause in the Residential Tenancies Act (RTA), where property owners have the right to take possession of an apartment they own for personal use. This includes selling it. A Form N12 is used to invoke this process. Clearly my neighbour, despite being a former landlord herself, is incorrect.
She further compounds her bad judgement call by continuing past behaviour that has gotten her on our landlord’s bad side:
having her friends coming over at all hours and causing a racket
modifying the basement by hanging things on the wall
putting a new lock on the back door without contacting the landlord
having her love interest (who is suffering from schizophrenia) regularly stay over only to start sing-screaming about killing the police and himself, pounding the walls, and damaging the back door after midnight.
It was the last point that was causing me the most grief, and making my stay at my place close to unbearable. Having said this, I wanted to work this out with her. I’m a Casper The Friendly Ghost kind of guy and I just wanna be friends.
I spoke to her in person and wrote her Emails like the one below:
I think it is time for this guy to never come back. I don’t mind being awakened in the middle of the night but I have not slept one minute all night. Please tell him he cannot come back? If this is allowed to continue it could affect my ability to do temp work. I really do need to sleep. The rape and death threats are also worrisome.
in order to work it out.
I thought we were making progress, with responses like this:
You’re right David, and I’m very, very sorry. He will be gone today. I was actually waiting for you guys to go to work so my yelling wouldn’t disturb you, but I guess I made the wrong call on that one. Again, I apologize for causing your sleep deprivation and hope it doesn’t cause too many problems for you today
On June 21st, 2017, as I wrote in a previous blog post, my neighbour’s lover came back and he came back with a vengeance. Someone (not me) called the police and he was escorted off the premises.
After one time where he was in the kitchen upstairs screaming and screeching while making a meal and later came downstairs to kick at the suite doors, I decided enough was enough. I spoke to my landlord and he made it clear that he was banned and permission was given for all tenants to call the police if he ever returned.
The smart move my neighbour should have taken was to see him elsewhere and spend time at his place. Instead, her logic was that she had a right to have anyone over she wanted, regardless of how it affected the other tenants. That was the end of our cordial neighbourly coexistence and Captain Crazy repeatedly visited to cause a fuss.
Every time he came back, I or someone else called the police. Most of the times he got away before the police arrived but they would eventually meet up with him and warn him to stay away. They couldn’t arrest him though — he was acting on his mental instability so he was not accountable for his actions — but every time the police were called, the landlord knew about it.
On my last night at the house in the very early morning, he tapped on the bedroom window of my neighbour’s room for hours, pleading at first and then threatening to come in. She told him no. He decided he had enough and kicked in the window and crawled right in. Alarmed for my neighbour’s safety, I called the police and they arrived to escort him off the premises again. My neighbour began shrieking at me and the police to leave her alone and slammed the door shut.
Hours later and while getting the last of my stuff ready to donate to “Worth A Second Look”, my neighbour confronted me and shrieked, “Do you know what you have done!? I am being evicted! I am homeless! I have no place to go! Thanks a lot!”.
I wasn’t sure if that was really the case until after my arrival at the men’s shelter. I was told by another resident who was a friend of my neighbour that she was evicted because of what I did. While he didn’t threaten me, he made it clear he was angry about what I did. I told him to calm down, and reminded him my neighbour could have worked with the landlord and kept her nose clean. She could have gotten her extension if she took a different approach. She didn’t and now she, like myself, is homeless.
Where we go in life is not as relevant is how we got there.
Thanks for reading!
The point of personal responsibility was not the only reason why I wrote this post. I wouldn’t be surprised if the events with my neighbour come back to haunt me at the shelter later. She is now no doubt aware I am at the shelter. If she is mad enough she could ask that resident I spoke to to make trouble for me that could affect my residency. He could jump me when no one is looking, or plant drugs or weapons in my room (assuming my roommates don’t notice) that could get me thrown out. If that happens, I can refer to this to help exonerate myself.
As I stated before, sometimes you need to dig deeper for the story before jumping to conclusions.
I don’t usually make a big deal about blog posts. This blog has always been viewed as nothing more than a part of a much larger initiative to return to financial self-reliance and self-sustainability.
Today, my announcement is a major life-changing decision. It’s also the most controversial one I’ve ever made in my life.
Many I know will not like my decision, yet I feel it’s something all of us in society must talk about when it comes to the most vulnerable members of society.
Without getting ahead of the story, read on.
In a post I wrote on my blog at davidalangay.wordpress.com called “The Unmasked Job Seeker“, In it, I mentioned the reason why I made my job search public in a blog was “to get past the unemployment figures reported on radio, TV and the newspapers. These are sterile numbers that statistics people love to use to measure trends, but does not tell the real story about the unemployed who are looking for jobs.”
That post was written about five years ago, and that mission statement has not changed since then. Since I started this blog on April 5th 2012, the reason for this blog was to open a window on the life of a jobseeker in this Age of Austerity and the Jobless Recovery. Most people have this notion that all job-seekers will find a job eventually. That might have been closer to the truth in say the 1980s, but it’s important to note the Great Recession of 2008-2009 changed the labour market and the economy forever in the same way the First and Second Industrial ages and the Recession of the 1930’s did. Like these events of the past, the Great Recession resulted in some people falling through the cracks. Some fell almost immediately while others put up one hell of a fight before going under.
My own battle has been ongoing for just over seven and a half years. Anyone who has followed my blog or knows me personally will agree I’ve fought hard during that period to return to financial self-reliance and self-sustainability. Like any war, battles have been won and lost, and there have been casualties and fallout. A new front to fight — namely homelessness — has made this war all the more trying.
On the last day before eviction from this place, which I previously mentioned in a blog post called “Eviction“, I’ve taken stock of how things have gone so far. I wish I can say I’m winning.
As a high school graduate in the 1980s, I was very naive. I believed if I kept my act clean — don’t party too much, be responsible in conduct, adopt a hard work ethic, be honest and faithful to others — I would do just fine. I would never have trouble following my career dreams. I would never encounter poverty and homelessness.
I was not fired from my last full time job. I don’t have a criminal record. I don’t smoke. I don’t do drugs. I don’t suffer from any mental illnesses nor is my health poor. I am not an alcoholic, though I’ve had reason to become one with the stress I’ve been through over the years. I am a graduate of Humber College, and was in I.T. — a very good career choice — for over 20 years.
So what happened?
I lost my career due to changes at work that were fueled by the Great Recession. I was unable to pay for my apartment of 24 years so I had to move in with family. That in turn caused a lot of friction and stress so now my family barely tolerates me, if not outright hates me. I can’t find work as a middle-aged man in my 50s no matter how far out of my comfort zone I went in trying things, despite being on hundreds of interviews and applying for thousands of jobs over the last 7.5 years.
I’m unable to find a place because I earn too little money and affordable housing is a myth in this hyper-stimulated real-estate market. I’m heading for a men’s shelter — again — and because of this, I had to give away nearly all my stuff, tear up my photos and toss out my school yearbooks.
I’m going to live in a place that is mostly full of addicts and mentally irregular people. This particular shelter, barring any extensions, only allows residency for two weeks. Once that stay is done, I’m out on the street sleeping on buses and trying to keep warm in 24-hour restaurants and coffee shops, fighting off the cold, sickness, and fatigue from lack of REM sleep. While all of this is happening, I still need to find a job and a place to stay. That’s tough enough to do when you are not homeless. Being homeless and suffering from the effects of homelessness will make that search damned near impossible.
Homelessness is not a lifestyle choice. It’s also not a crime. What it is is a state one enters when the ability to maintain a roof over one’s head is lost. It can happen for innocent reasons such as sickness, job loss, a debilitating injury, or an act of crime such as fraud or theft.
I’ve come to the realization I’m losing the war. I’ve come to the realization there might not be a happy Hollywood movie ending for me. My homelessness might become a new normal and it will a cruel, cold, lonely and painfully intolerable normal. Things will end badly.
So what will I do?
I will keep trying to find a job. I will keep trying to find a place to stay. It’s expected. No one likes a quitter.
Having said this, I’ve always argued that while we have no say in how we enter this world, we should have full control in how we depart it. In short, we deserve to die with dignity.
I do not believe that my death should come from exposure to the elements, from lack of sleep and proper nutrition, from disease, or from anything else homelessness brings. No one deserves that. I certainly do not.
We have a Medical Aid In Dying Bill in Canada. This bill ensures Canadians — who face foreseeable death, who are suffering from a gradual degeneration of ability, and who are in unbearable pain — a merciful death that releases them from their suffering.
The problem with this bill is that it argues from the basis of an incurable or at least untreatable medical condition. There are other conditions, socio-economic ones such as homelessness, that produce the same level of intolerable pain, suffering and hardship as a terminal disease but would not be covered under Bill C-14.
If society does not have the will to resolve the issue of homelessness, and if I cannot turn my fortunes around, I should not have to needlessly suffer. Allowing people, like myself, to die so horribly is against the principles of a compassionate society.
I should have the right to die with dignity.
Do not assume this decision comes from depression or mental illness. If you do not believe homelessness is a state of great suffering, take a good look at a homeless person the next time you see one. Look at their weathered face, etched from the elements and from lack of sleep and nutrition. Look in their eyes. Is there a spark of life, or a look that reminds you of a frozen fish laying on ice at a supermarket? Are these people truly alive or just going through the motions?
I’ve started a dialogue with Dying with Dignity Canada. I realize it’s a long shot that I will get my wish before my situation as a homeless person becomes that bad. However, just like looking for work and a place to stay, to ensure I die without suffering is expected. It’s my right. It’s everyone’s right.
I know I will get flak from this announcement from family, friends, and even perfect strangers. While I will not be baited by hateful comments like “so go kill yourself then!”, I am prepared to discuss this intelligently and rationally with anyone. All I ask is to keep an open mind.
Most people never face homelessness, so it is hard to understand what the impact of being homeless is. The best way to try to understand it is to close your eyes and imagine all the great things happening to you right now, like your career, your relationship with family and friends, your good health, or your ability to pursue your goals and dreams. Now, replace that with a world where there is no roof over your head and no place to get a good night’s sleep. You’re hungry. On certain days you might be cold or wet. You’re lonely. People don’t want to have anything to do with you, even though you did nothing wrong. As time passes you get sick, and might even get sicker. What happens if you suffer an injury while homeless? How will you get around? How will you defend yourself from others who want to take what little stuff you have from you?
What if there was nothing you could do to change your situation for the better? Are you prepared to live your life like this to your last day? Most would say no. I certainly wouldn’t. That’s not my definition of living.
The parallel between a terminal disease and homelessness cannot be easily dismissed. Homelessness is a social malaise that either deserves a cure or a release from the intolerable suffering and pain it brings. The rights of the homeless to die with dignity have been overlooked for too long and it’s time to have a frank and open discussion in order to correct that oversight.
Thanks for taking the time to listen.
P.S. As mentioned I have already reached out to Dying With Dignity Canada with the following correspondence being exchanged:
your e mail has been forwarded to me by one of my colleagues. I am sorry to hear about your condition. I can not even begin to imagine how difficult it must be for you to go through a regular day.
Regarding your inquiry – As you probably know in order for you to qualify for medical aid in dying (MAID) one needs to meet medical eligibility criteria. In order for us to support you in a best possible way i would need to know your diagnosis and name of the province that you reside in. Would you be willing to provide me with that information.
Personal Support Program manager
To which I replied:
Thanks for your reply.
The point of my video that I included pointed out that I would not be eligable for MAID because the bill was based on physiological ailments and not socio-economic yet both share common traits. For example, homelessness produces the same amount of intolerable pain and suffering as a teminal disease. There is also a degeneration of mobility and ability due to lack of REM sleep, nutrition, exposure to the elements. Death is a very forseeable outcome from homelessness, due to exposure to the elements, assault, traffic acccidents due to impaired judgement from lack of sleep, or other diseases such pneumonia, broncitis, infection and other ailments that are a byproduct of being homeless. I wish to challenge bill C14 as a violation of my right to die with dignity and do not (and will not) accept undue pain and death from homeless life.
My health as of now is fine but it will degrade over time the longer I am outdoors and not receiving proper safe care. I am in Ontario in the region of Waterloo.
The answer I received was not what I hoped for:
I hear you but I am sorry to say that at this point we as agency really cannot do anything to help your cause. In ideal world your logic makes perfect sense but unfortunately we both know that we do not live in ideal world.
I am sorry but there is really nothing that we could do for you until your health deteriorates to the degree that you meet the medical eligibility criteria for medical aid in dying (MAID). Again I am sorry for disappointing you.
I will not be deterred:
Thank you for your reply. I appreciate the time taken to consider my request.
I want to make clear that dying on the streets is not an option for me. I will not end up like these people who have been abandoned by society and left to hollow out from malnutrition, the elements, or death through assault.
I will also make very clear that if I have to kill myself in order to avoid the nightmare I face, you can bet your last dollar that is exactly what will happen. I will die with dignity in the end whether your agency stands with me or not.
Both my blog and the attached video make it perfectly clear the seriousness of that promise.
Before I begin, I will make an important announcement on this site Sunday (September 10th, 2017), and it will be in the form of a video blog post.
My decision to move to the Waterloo Region was motivated by financial reasons. I couldn’t afford to live in Toronto any more, especially now that I earn below the poverty line.
That decision did not come without consequences. I left behind my network of friends and co-workers. Coming here meant dealing with a slower pace of life, including a slower transit system with no subway. Never in Toronto did I have to walk for over half-an-hour just because I missed the bus. Even during off-peak hours another TTC bus would be along in just 15 minutes. My wallet thanked me, but it made a negative impact on my job search.
Sometimes the consequences go far more than just inconvenience, however.
Large cities have more social assistance programs, medical services, and places to go when you are bored. These are very important to the homeless and the impoverished, yet what happens when cities become playgrounds affordable only for the rich?
One of two thing happen.
Low-income earners who choose to remain in large cities struggle to get by and are denied affordable housing. The upper-class look down at these people — whose only crime is being underemployed if not unemployed — huff, “Ugh! There goes the neighbourhood!” and flood City Hall with complaints about these pesky vermin.
Those who decide to move to a smaller city or even a town might find things more affordable but they also find a transit system (if one even exists) they are not used to. The system might not run overnight so there goes night work. The commute time taken to get their job radically increases, so they either decide to buy a car (an expensive option!) or tough out the commute. Smaller urban centres have fewer social services, fewer medical specialists like cardiologists and physiotherapists, and less social opportunities to build a network needed to return to gainful full-time employment and financial self-reliance.
Changing the urban landscape to push out the poor is no way to solve the issues of homelessness and poverty. It’s like continually sweeping dirt under a carpet. You can’t see it, but it’s still there and growing. Sooner or later, something has to be done about it.
Urban planning, from the largest cities to the smallest towns, must include a place for those less fortunate in society, beginning with affordable housing.