A Week in the Life

I always seem to get in this weird "funk" on Sundays. I think it's because the weekend's freedom will soon be abruptly cut short by the emergence of Monday. Growing up my mom was always moodier on Sunday nights, and now I am able to sympathize. She's assured me that I'm normal and that even after thirty something years in the working world, the Sunday evening blahs never go away. How reassuring. Speaking of work, a lot of people ask what a typical day is like, and then I have to explain there's really no such thing as "typical" in my line of work. So, I've compiled a few snippets of last week's "highlights":

Wednesday--gay client drops by the office to inform us that his ex-lover sold drugs in his name and now people have been coming to his apartment threatening his life if he doesn't pay the money; I go w/ him to the housing office and wait for 2 hours while he gets approval to move into a hotel room

Thursday--I visit the apartment of a client I had not previously met. I take the right bus the wrong way and thus arrive 30 min. behind schedule. She explains she got HIV because some girl bit her at the school she used to work at. Her mother was Puerto Rican and her father Italian she tells me. Somehow they managed to be married 50 yrs though she claims her mother neither understood nor spoke English or Italian. Funny how that works. Her 18 yr. old daughter just had a baby 3 mths ago. The client drops me off at her mother's (where daughter and baby currently live). There must be at least 7 people living in this cramped apartment. I speak with the daughter. She tells me being a parent is going well so far and no she is not interested in parenting classes. Yes, she would like to finish high school but wants to open her own public assistance case first. She is worried about the apartment's crowded conditions. Her mom kicked her out, she said (mom had told me otherwise). I tell her I'd like to help out in any way I can. I give her my number and suggest we look for schools w/ night classes. I also speak w/ the older sister. She is currently taking her mom to court for running up charges on a credit card in her name. She is starting college this month and will be living with her boyfriend.

Friday--I go to meet a client at his doctor's appointment. A couple weeks ago was the first time he'd been back to the doctor in a year. He did not show. The doctor was angry and gave me copies of his latest blood work. I ask the nurse to translate the medical lingo for me. She tells me he tested positive for syphilis and should be treated right away. I'm not sure if the client is aware of his diagnosis. I go back to the office and give him a call. He didn't come because the landlord is there replacing his kitchen cabinets. No, he is unaware he has syphilis (thus making me the bearer of bad news). He will call me back once he reschedules.
Later in the day a client comes in w/ alcohol on his breath (not for the first time) waving a rent bill in my face. He refuses to move into his new apartment until the shower is fixed. I call the landlord who says he'll send a plumber out tomorrow. This particular client likes to sporadically break into the chorus of "Georgia on my Mind." Do I like that song? he wants to know and I tell him yes. He is an old black Vietnam vet, and I have a special fondness for him, maybe because back in the day he was stationed in San Antonio, Texas. Someone had given him one of those "Jesus Saves" tracks, and he tells me he believes everything it says. Then I told him he also must agree w/ the Bible not condoning drunkenness. "Jennifer", he says, "I ain't ever been drunk a day in my life." Interesting. I take him to the conference room and tell him he has a problem w/ alcohol. He's defensive and doesn't want to hear it ("My own mother never even talked to me like that.") I escort him downstairs and watch him go feeling a bit defeated...but still loving him. A client I have never even met then proceeds to chew me out because she's been waiting 30 min. to pick up her social security check. I give her the money and explain I'm the only team member here at the moment. She doesn't want to hear it either and storms out in a huff yelling something about her mother being sick. I can't decide if I feel like crying or laughing.
Mostly I'm just glad it's Friday.

So there you have it--a week in the life. Hope it was everything you dreamed of and more. Sometimes I have to laugh at the drama of it all. But sometimes all I can think is that this is not how the world should be. 18 year old girls should not be mothers before being high school graduates. Children should not be growing up without fathers, and women should not be letting them get away with such deadbeat behavior. People should not be living sick and alone without any family or community to support them. The church should be gathering in the "least of these". And for these things I weep.

And then my parents tell me it's ok to cry and that I am a light though I may not see the fruits of my labor. Dad assures me I am the next Martin Luther, and this is only the beginning of my quiet revolution. Mom tells me that people always ask if she worries about me. She tells them no. She knows I came on faith, and that is enough for her. And all of a sudden the world is right again. I love my family. They make me strong and always remind me of who I am. I believe that every lesson God ever wanted to teach about unconditional love and compromise and laughter and community and identity is verbalized through family. And I'm reminded of the message I'm to take to the world...first stop: Bronx, NY.