Zine 10 – Speak Up Magazine

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December 2014 | Issue 6 | $1.00

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“Speak Up for those who cannot speak for
themselves, for the rights of all who are
destitute.”
—Proverbs 31:8

More than a Magazine Get Involved

Speak Up Magazine is a 501(c)3 non- Volunteers and interns are welcomed for
profit that gives voice to and offers an creative areas, such as photography, editing,
income opportunity for homeless and teaching, and production, design, as well as
vulnerably-housed people. They become fundraising, social services and more. Please
micro-business owners who buy copies contact us to help out.
of Speak Up for a low price and resell
them, keeping all the cash and earning a
profit. As a result, these enterprising street Speak Up is Local
vendors learn to manage their resources,
grow their businesses and change their Unique editions of Speak Up are
lives with dignity. published monthly in Traverse City, MI,
Speak Up is a member of the and Charlotte, NC.
International Network of Street Papers, To explore bringing Speak Up to your
which connects and supports over 100 region, visit speakupmag.org/local.
such organizations worldwide.

This Zine Team Contact

Editing & Writing Clinics Charlotte Oﬃce (NC)
Will Vaughan, Peggi Knowe, Ben Shaw, (704) 980-9885
Nate Casey, Rob Astor, Lana Shaw, Harry speakupmag.org
Griffin, Melissa Sprenkle, Bill Shaw, Mary office@speakupmag.org
Pierce, Mickey Grooters, Deborah Shaw, 1515 S Mint St,
Leah Burnett Charlotte, NC 28203

Visuals
Chadborne Whiting, photo processing Traverse City Chapter (MI)
Deb Shaw, photography speakuptc.com
Matt Shaw, photos/design billshaw@speakupmag.org

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VENDOR PROGRAM Frequently Asked Questions

What is a Speak Up vendor?

“Vendor” is the title for the hard-working individuals who distribute Speak Up. Most likely
they are experiencing homelessness or are vulnerably housed. Your purchase of this magazine
is part of their journey out of poverty. You can learn more at speakupmag.org/vendors.

How does someone become a vendor?

1. Sign up & come to an interview
3. Attend the Training Day
4. Sign the Code of Conduct
5. Get 20 free zines and temporary badge
5. Reinvest and attend weekly meetings. Look for a valid Speak Up badge

What if I give money but don’t take the magazine?

Always take the magazine. This individual is working hard, please don’t make them take a
hand out. Feel free to tip, but always take the product. This gives dignity, not just money.

But I don’t have any cash!

A few smartphone-equipped vendors can accept a credit card payment. We are also
experimenting with Scan-to-Pay using your cellphone camera (learn more at scan.me). For
now, the best option is to plan ahead and keep a few dollars handy for your favorite vendor.

How can I help?

Here’s one way: Be a friend to the person that sells the magazine. Sit down with them for coffee,
buy them lunch, get to know them. Keep it simple. Healthy and encouraging relationships are
crucial as people build new community and grow in opportunity and perspective.

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THE BIG SELL OFF

[February 2-8, 2015]

THE BIG SELL OFF is weeklong global fundraiser during which non-
homeless individuals become vendors for a few hours to raise funds
for their local street magazines. This fun event is a chance for you to
walk in the shoes of a magazine vendor, raise money for Speak Up and
support a community of inspiring micro-business people.

learn more & sign up:
SPEAKUPMAG.ORG/thebigselloff

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I have seen the fear in the eyes of those who are homeless for the
first time—even military veterans who have seen the horrors of
war. The color drained from their faces, the shock of realization
as they lay down on their bedding in the shelter for the night.
—Mark, page 22

A Glimpse of Community 06
Cover Vendor: Ruth 07
My Black Coat 08
Reflections of Winter 09
Unmentionables 10
Becoming Homeless 11
Sign 12
Homeless for Christmas 14
Make of it What You Will 15
DAG Words 16
What’s In Your Bag? 17
Cast Away 18
Housesitting 20
Lost & Found 21
Shelter Shock 22
Sponsors 23

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[LOCAL LEADER]
A GLIMPSE OF COMMUNITY

By Will Vaughan in Charlotte, NC

Something hits you when you walk into impressions, to see a man from the streets
Speak Up. That has been my experience, connect with me with such willingness
at least. It’s not anything tangible or even and ease, was a simple yet impactful
anything describable, really—it’s simply a experience that I will never forget.
feeling—an overwhelming sense that you With my upcoming graduation from
are supposed to be there. Davidson College, I may not see Michal
At first, I thought maybe it has to do but a few more times in my life. Still,
with Matt Shaw. He greets everyone with his character and presence will always
the same smile, energy and warmth, no remain close to my heart. The last time I
matter their situation or status. The first encountered him was at a vendor meeting.
day I walked through those doors on Mint It was the first time I had seen him since
Street as a new intern, I shook Matt’s hand his face graced the cover of the fourth
and knew that this was a special place. issue of the Zine. During that encounter,
I soon realized that Speak Up was Michal spoke about his experience selling
not just special because of Matt. The the magazine with his picture on the cover.
atmosphere—from the creative writing I remember him turning to Matt and
on the walls to the hopeful perspectives saying, “It has been one of the happiest
that each vendor, volunteer and intern and most humbling moments of my life.”
brings to the table—shapes its deep and What Michal may not have realized is
prevalent air of community. that just as Speak Up gives him hope and
When I was thinking of how to explain pride, he shares these characteristics with
such a sense of community, I remembered those whom he touches. His witness has
my first interaction with Michal. Michal shown me that what hits you walking into
was a vendor long before I became a Speak Up’s doors is nothing compared to
volunteer, but what struck me was his what hits you when you walk out: the faith,
immediate ability to relate to people. assurance and understanding that you
Upon walking in, he greeted everyone have gotten a glimpse of true community.
around with his great smile; and when
he got to me, he cracked a joke about his Will Vaughan is a student
failed sale the day before. It was incredible. at Davidson College
As a guy who is often nervous about first

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[THIS MONTH’S FEATURED VENDOR]
A CONVERSATION WITH RUTH HSIEH

Interview by Liana Harvey in Charlotte, NC

WHERE ARE YOU FROM?
I was born in Taipei, Taiwan, and
moved to America in 1982.

WHERE ARE YOU LIVING NOW?
I am currently living in a room in a house
by East Charlotte.

WHAT PERSON HAS MEANT THE
MOST TO YOU IN YOUR LIFE?
Matt and Lana Shaw have meant the
most to me.

HOW DID YOU LEARN ABOUT
SPEAK UP?
I learned about the organization in
a rehabilitation center. Matt came in
to recruit people and promote the
magazine.

WHAT’S THE MOST POSITIVE
EXPERIENCE THAT HAS HAPPENED
WHILE SELLING SPEAK UP?
The most positive experience is
connecting with people.

DO YOU REMEMBER YOUR FIRST TELL ME ABOUT YOUR FAMILY.
SALE? My parents both passed away, and my
My first sale was at the CPCC campus sisters are very supportive of me.
three years ago.
WHAT’S A RECENT MILESTONE IN
WHERE’S YOUR FAVORITE YOUR LIFE?
PLACE TO EAT AND HANG OUT IN My recent accomplishment is moving to
CHARLOTTE? a new place.
Akahana, which is a Japanese restaurant,
and I love their udon and tempura. They DURING THIS TIME OF TRANSITION
are located around Midwood Plaza at the AND INSTABILITY, WHAT GIVES
shopping center. YOU COMFORT?
Coming to Speak Up, because I feel very
DO YOU HAVE A CAR? accepted being a part of this organization.
No, I ride the bus.
WHERE DO YOU SEE YOURSELF IN
SINCE YOU DON’T HAVE A CAR, FIVE YEARS?
DOES THAT MAKE THINGS MORE I am a very successful business woman,
DIFFICULT? and I can accomplish a lot of things. I
It doesn’t really make things difficult want to volunteer and help people who
because I catch the bus and the light rail. are less fortunate than me.

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[OBJECT]
MY BLACK COAT

By Lynn Mendes in Charlotte, NC

While homeless, the one thing I relied on upset, was told by local police I could “stay
the most was my coat. It wasn’t just any coat. outside.” I crossed the street and decided
While probably not too expensive, it didn’t to bed down at the abandoned greenhouse
belong on the street. It was black, mid- on campus. Needless to say, my black
length and fur lined. It kept me warm on the coat with its padded materials, and the
nights I had to spend outdoors and served music I wrote, served to keep me warm.
as a cover for my time at the Travelers Aid. A hotel bathroom and the basement at my
On one particular night I travelled daughter’s apartment were other sources
to the Rhode Island area. I stopped in of shelter there, despite an entire week
Connecticut and managed to pay for a having been paid for in Connecticut.
week’s shelter at the International Hotel. As a postscript, on the night I stayed
But knowing full well my destination was at the greenhouse, I needed to use the
Rhode Island, where I was from, I decided bathroom. I leaned back, and much to my
to leave my paid-for shelter and continue surprise, the door to the building opened.
my journey. I was going home. That’s I went in, used the bathroom, and left my
where my family was. tennis shoes behind.
One night I went to the Warwick Mall
in Rhode Island and, having become

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[CHILL]
REFLECTIONS OF WINTER

By Randy Parcher in Traverse City, MI

They asked us to write about last winter, the grew way too fast, and yet still I removed the
beast at the door that won’t go away. The snow and ice. In spite of that, there was still
winter that had wind chills that bit down to time for snowball fights, snow angels, and
the bone and made blood freeze in our veins. snowmen and the ever-changing seasons.
Cold even when inside, longing for spring. Thoughts of the winters, of the fall of my
But this made me think of other winters, life, the children having started their own
as I’m in the winter of my life, having seen journeys into their own seasons. The halls
many ever-changing seasons. echo the silence with a challenging roar;
I thought about the winters, of the the home is just a house and nothing more.
spring of my life, when I was a child filled Time for me and my soul mate to get to
with the wonders of the changing seasons. know one another again, not knowing that
The wonders of the first snowfall changing this house that we called home would soon
the world into a marshmallow landscape, be gone–leaving us adrift, lost to time and
blanketing the ground in a goosedown the ever-changing seasons.
covering of white. Snowball fights, sledding, Now we come to the winters, of the
and an army of snowmen guarding a fort winter of my life. The cold seems colder and
of snow, hours spent in the cold followed the days grow shorter each day, the nights
by hot chocolate and the ever-changing longer and longer each year. All that is left
seasons. is memories and dreams, some sweet and
Thoughts of the winters, of the summers some bitter, but still all mine, something that
of my life, the beginning of working and no one can take from me. Growing closer to
building a family of my own, moving the long winter and the long sleep, for when
onward into adulthood. Removing snow this winter comes, and we all must face this
and ice and seeing winter with disdain winter, we begin to dwell upon what comes
instead of wonder. Losing time that could next, hoping that the ever-changing seasons
have been spent with my children as they bring a new spring.

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[TRUTH]
UNMENTIONABLES

By Renee Rop in Traverse City, MI

Life on the streets is ROUGH: Where to
sleep without being harassed; how to keep
oneself and one’s valuables safe and dry;
how to stay warm. Where is the nearest
public restroom? One does not wish to get
a loitering ticket, or even worse, a public
urination charge, which is actually a CSC
(Criminal Sexual Conduct) charge. Life on
the street is even more difficult for women.
Safety and security are always at odds with
being “out there” among the rest of society rent. In a tent near others, presumably
at large. for safety, one cannot lock oneself in. We
Life on the street can be dangerous, discover this only by experience. I have tried
even in our community. There is theft, to warn “newbies,” generally to no avail.
often among our own (homeless), if you We think we are among friends; protectors.
can imagine stealing from another who We have even less credibility than the
has so little. There is violence. This often average citizen within the community with
accompanies theft. Violence against local law enforcement. Who is going to do
our brothers and sisters. There is sexual anything? What will be the consequences
assault. Rape. Unfortunately, this is almost of reporting?! It is a fact that we must
commonplace among our alleged brothers continue to walk these same streets among
and our sisters. The incidents of sexual our perpetrators. There is fear of retribution.
assault rise incrementally with the use of Making a “report” does not get the offenders
alcohol (or other drugs). off the street immediately, if ever.
Women who are homeless are less visible I know many women in the homeless
than the men. I hesitate to mention acts of community who have been sexually
violence because the community already assaulted by our own. I am among these
has a poor image of “us.” Yet because this has ranks. If we talk about this at all, it is among
been so unmentionable, it has become one each other – those who understand and
more reason such violence continues. Don’t those who comprehend the “whys” of not
worry; it doesn’t happen in your backyard reporting versus “judging” of the silence.
or driveway. It happens under bridges and I guess this is my attempt to “Speak Out”
in wooded areas. It happens in the dark. It and “Speak Up” about this form of violence.
happens when couchsurfing or in tents. But Not much can be done about it. Awareness,
it happens. It happens often when we are maybe. Some might say this is fatalistic,
asleep, unconscious, in a blackout, or too but it’s simply the reality. It is unlikely that
impaired or outnumbered to fight back. these incidents will begin to be reported. It’s
I feel compelled to mention it, because it unlikely others will notice and intervene.
does happen and is even less reported than As homeless, we are often viewed as non-
sexual assault among the non-homeless in members of society. There is no justice
the community. for us. I mean, seriously, look at the stink
“Why?” you may ask. Many are the created when we try to build a new shelter.
reasons. Often alcohol is involved. An Many do care, but most do not. “Not in our
unspoken code is if you drink with the neighborhood.” “Not on our streets.” “Not in
guys, sexual assault may sadly be a part of our city.” And so, under the bridges and into
the price of hanging with the guys. If you the woods we go where There is no safety,
are couchsurfing, it may be the undiscussed no security, and no witnesses.

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[TRANSITION]
BECOMING HOMELESS

By Matthew Hoffman in Charlotte, NC

financial karma that carried over into
my business. I quickly made friends with
some of the homeless because of this.
Because of my feelings of “civic duty,”
I decided to use my own experience
as a way to offer the community an
opportunity to help themselves by helping
me out. Instead of hiding myself away in
an abandoned part of town, unseen by
the people who I felt were my peers, I
placed myself in one of the most visible
portions of the Myers Park area, at the
corner of Providence and Queens, on a
park bench underneath a shelter owned
by the Myers Park United Methodist
Church. It was my hope that the more
When I became “houseless,” I was sad, philanthropic members of the Myers Park
angry, confused and most importantly, I community would see me on the bench
felt alone. I was working as a pedicab driver, and question me about my presence there.
giving tours of my awesome town to tourists I desperately wanted to be properly placed
and locals, as well as shuttling patrons from in our society. I desperately wanted to be
point to point in the uptown area. Before cared for. I desperately wanted to not feel
my roommate asked me to move out of his so alone. Unfortunately, this is not what
house, I also worked at Outback Steakhouse. occurred.
It was all rather abrupt and somewhat I was ignored. In the morning, I would
without warning. wake up, and the local “coalition” of
I knew at the time it was possible for mother joggers would run by, discussing
me to remain anonymous and to regain their own daily events with themselves as
my life with a sacrifice of silence. To I’d hear the “whoosh” of cyclists riding by
keep quiet in my own silent, lonely pain. on their morning workout session. As they
But even before I became “houseless,” I noticed me on the bench and I attempted
had many problems with the treatment to maintain an appearance of actual sleep,
of the underserved in Charlotte. To me, their volume actually increased, almost as
it is simply unfair for us to allow others if to indicate, “We are trying super hard to
to remain impoverished; it is to their appear as though we don’t notice you on
detriment and to our own. When I see that bench, so we’ll get louder!”
“the homeless” hanging out on park I never felt more alone than on those
benches and simply vagrantly existing mornings. Often times, I consider how
in the heart of my city, it’s embarrassing, so much in my life might have been
disconcerting and annoying. I felt this much easier if someone had just taken
way before I became homeless. that opportunity to say “Hello! You don’t
Often when I would pedicab drive, I belong here! Allow me to help.” I have a
would give five to ten dollars of my money lot of positivity in my life now, positivity
to those who panhandled all weekend that I am quite grateful for, yet I will never
long. Usually, I found that giving my forget those lonely nights in Myers Park
money that I earned pedalling my legs when I waited for someone, anyone, to
lifted my spirits and also gave me some simply drop by and say, “Hey!”

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Up
Speak
about
more
learn
to
smartphone
your
with
Scan beggar
nota

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[HOLIDAYS]
HOMELESS FOR CHRISTMAS

By Laurie Koelsch in Traverse City, MI

It was a cold, heavy wet snow, a miserable Once as I was sitting in the warmth, I
time to have nowhere to be, feet wet and started remembering how Christmas was
cold with no way to keep them dry or put when I was a child. The house was fully
dry socks on. It was too cold to even sleep decorated, stockings by the fireplace waiting
in our vehicle. My soulmate was not feeling for Santa to come, finding it hard to sleep,
well. He was having signs of a heart attack. up at the crack of dawn waiting for my
He had surgery. We really needed a warm parents to get out of bed, finding which
place to be or the doctor would not release presents were mine without moving them.
him from the hospital. They knew we were How the house smelled of fresh baked sugar
homeless at the time. We slept one night in cookies, cooling, waiting for us to decorate
the van after he got out but it was too cold them, fresh baked pies, homemade peanut
for him. I finally found help in getting us brittle, and other candy treats my parents
out of the cold; I had talked to an outreach had made. The family and relatives getting
person and a pastor from a church to help us together, telling stories about how it was
get a room for two weeks for Christmas. We when they were growing up and the toys
were very grateful for this time being out of they received for Christmas.
the wet and cold, trying to keep from getting All of these wonderful memories put
sick. It was a real treat for us to be able to warmth and happiness back in me for the
sleep in a warm bed, to watch television, spirit of Christmas. In my heart, that gives
and a few Christmas movies like White me my holiday smile and love once more.
Christmas. The toys were so much different back when
This was before we found out about Safe my parents were children. Toys were made
Harbor. Christmas was better; I was happier of wood then. My father showed me his one
to have my soulmate with me considering special toy—it was a metal goose that he
how it could have been cold and lonely had to wind up and its head would move
without him, his funny sense of humor to up and down. I was so fascinated to learn
keep me smiling through the hard times. He more about their childhood. This is how my
is my shining armor. He keeps me happy and Christmas spirit stays warm instead of the
feeling loved when I start feeling like there is cold lonely feelings of being homeless for
no hope left in getting out of the cold. Christmas.

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[YOUTH]
MAKE OF IT WHAT YOU WILL

By W. Yoveenah C. in Traverse City, MI

I am a teenager in society, a daughter resources. My hands are buried. I long for
to parents and a sister to four siblings, the warmth of a home, the warmth of love,
a girlfriend to someone who saved me. yet the winter keeps me numb, keeps me
Whoever knew life could be so lonely? cold. Why not freeze these racing thoughts
In this world we talk of compassion, lost in the mind maze of foolishness? I think
peace and love but receive and see so very so hard, so much until pitch black falls from
little of it. Home is where it all begins, isn’t the sky into my mind.
it? The same home that pushed me out, My blurred conscience is awakened by
the same home that crumbled my insides, distant conservations, the screeching of the
and the same home where I screamed, playground apparatus and the laughter of
pleaded and cried. Now, standing between kids. My legs begin walking before my mind
everything I have ever known and life on is fully aware of the condition that I am in.
my own, I walk. I walk away from all the Parents cover the eyes of their kids as I begin
disappointments, all the misunderstandings to wonder what to do next. Days and weeks
and all the misjudgments to prove my go by and I wonder, would anybody care?
dedication and what I believe to be right. Just another teenage drama.
Now, the bitter cold enters my bones.
December 26th never felt so lonely. I’m on
the park bench I’ve walked by thousands
of times taking for granted its valuable

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[OBSERVATIONS]
SOME WORDS

By David Alan Goldberg in Charlotte, NC

COFFEE
In my youth and for many years, I would
drink at least six cups of coffee daily, the
strength of motor oil used in NASCAR.
Pardon the pun, but it fueled my
creativity in ways better than anything
else. I am still running off the fumes.

ETHICS
Tactfulness, propriety, punctuality,
fairness, humility. A little bit of each,
practiced sincerely and consistently goes
a long way. However, at the end of the day,
and after several excellent cappuccinos,DIRT we all poop.
Dirt, being dirty, is a wide and varied
substance. It could be the dirtiest of
all dirt, or not so much. What are we talking about in relation to dirt, really? SHOP
Dust bunnies under the couch or Miley Blume Junior High School, Wapakoneta,
Cyrus? Ohio. I attended seventh and eighth
grade there in the late 1970s. Its claim to
fame is that the first man on the moon,
Neil Armstrong, attended Blume whenHUMAN RACE he was a kid. In eighth grade, I took
I ran. I ran so far away. When I was on wood and metal shop in one of the
the streets, it was all this human could same classrooms where Armstrong was
do to maintain any reasonable amount taught. After the ‘78-’79 school year,
of sanity. San Francisco, Portland, across there was a parade honoring the ten-
town, down the block. Away. Anywhere year-anniversary of the moon landing. I
but here. got to shake his hand.

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[ESSENTIALS]
MATT, WHAT’S IN YOUR BAG?

Recently of Charlotte, Matt is currently travelling through Alabama and Mississippi .

Trying to escape his drug-dealing parents
and broken home, Matt left Florida for
Charlotte in his early twenties. Despite the
hardships he faced, he turned to God at an
early age. Though still vulnerably-housed
himself, Matt sees himself as a pastor to the
homeless. He is focused on loving, helping
and guiding others. He is writing his second
book, “Street Stories.”
This is what he carries on a daily basis:

—Profile by Peggi Knowe“Before you judge a man, ask
to hear his story.”

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[TRAGEDY]
CAST AWAY

By MB in Traverse City, MI

When the stores opened, my Momma
took me to Kmart and bought me a dress.
I always got the dresses Madison didn’t fit
into anymore, but this time I was getting a
brand new one of my very own. I took a long
time to pick out my new dress. There were
so many pretty ones at the store, and I didn’t
want to pick the wrong one.
Momma started to get mad at me
because I was taking too long. I finally
decided I wanted the red t-shirt dress with
the little baby bugs on the collar. Momma
bought me new white tights and shiny black
shoes to go with it.
We drove home, and I held the bag
with my new clothes in it. I was thinking,
everybody thinks Mady is prettier than me,
but that’s just because she gets all the new
dresses. Wait till they see mine! Momma
said I had to go to the doctor’s today and she
wants me to wear my new dress. I can’t wait
to put it on. of a building that said “Child and Family
Daddy was mean when we got home. He Services” on the door. Daddy’s truck was
got mad at Momma for wasting money on already parked there. I was confused because
me. Now I felt bad about my new clothes. I I thought we were going to the doctor’s, and
thought that he might make Momma take Daddy never goes to the doctor’s office with
them back to the store, but he didn’t. Mommy and me.
It was almost time for my doctor’s Momma got out of the car, and Daddy
appointment and I put on my new dress. I walked up to us. Momma was still mad and
looked at myself in the mirror at the top of so was Daddy. I wanted them both to be
the dresser. I sort of looked pretty. Momma happy, so I sang a song we learned at school
had bleached my hair the night before and as we walked to the building. My music
put it in curlers. It is all blond now, but too teacher at school says I have a pretty voice
curly. I brushed it and put in a barrette. and I thought it would cheer everybody up
We got in the car and Momma seemed to hear me sing.
like she was mad at me. I bet it was because “Shut up, Nevaeh,” Daddy told me. He
she had wasted money on my new dress and opened the door and we walked in. There
Daddy was mad at her. “Why does Daddy was a waiting room just like at my other
hate me?” I asked Momma when we were in doctor’s office. I wondered if I got a new
the car. “Nevaeh, he doesn’t really hate you,” doctor because they found out about the bad
she told me gently. “Besides, I have always thing that Daddy does to me. I was scared.
loved you the best, because of your big I didn’t want to get into trouble. Momma
brown eyes.” I felt happy and sad at the same went to the desk and whispered to the lady.
time. I didn’t want Noah and Mady to know She looked around the corner and smiled at
that Momma loved me best, but it made me me. She had bad teeth.
happy that she did. The chairs in the waiting room were
We drove into a parking lot in front made of hard blue plastic. Momma told me

Page 19

Momma came out a few minutes later
with the lady that I hoped was my doctor,
and she went out the door too. I got up to
go with her, but the lady stopped me. “Hello,
Nevaeh. Can I talk to you for a minute,” she
asked me in a baby voice. I wanted to be
nice and to see my new doctor, but I guess
Momma and Daddy forgot for her to see
me, and now it was time to go.
“My mom’s leaving,” I told the lady.
“Sweetie,” she said, “that’s what I want to
talk to you about. You are going to stay here
with me.”
“Why?” I knew something was wrong,
because Momma had started the car and
was starting to leave. I had to hurry or she
might forget she brought me to the doctor’s
at all.
“Nevaeh, honey, you are going to stay
here with me and I am going to take you to a
new home to live at.”
to wait in them while she and Daddy went “I want to go home with my mom,” I told
to talk to the doctor. I hoped the doctor her. Now I was really scared. Momma was
wouldn’t get mad at Daddy for the bad thing starting to drive away. I pulled my arm away
he does to me. It is my fault anyway. I kind of from the doctor and ran outside after her.
let him do the bad thing so he won’t hate me “Momma, wait.” I yelled.
so much and maybe he will even love me. I tried to catch her, but she pulled out
Momma and Daddy went back into onto the road before I could. The lady
an office with a lady who looked nice. She caught me and held me from behind so
smiled, said hello to me, and said my name I could not get away. I kicked my legs and
the right way. Nobody knows how to say my screamed. “Please! Please let me go! I’ll be a
name if they don’t know me and just read it good girl! Promise! I promise! Please I want
on a paper or something. “It’s Nuh-vey-uh,” to go home with my Momma! Please! I’ll be
I tell them after they say it wrong a couple of good, I promise. Please! I don’t want a new
times. My new dress is really pretty. I’m glad home to live at! Please! I want to go home
Daddy didn’t make Momma take it back to with my mother! Please! I want Mady and
the store. Noah! PLEASE! MOMMA! PLEASE!”
I sat in the waiting room and prayed that I got away from the lady and ran out
Daddy wouldn’t get into trouble, but they onto the road, but Momma’s car was already
were in the doctor’s office for a long time, gone. “MOMMA! MOMMA! MOMMA!” I
and I got scared. I swung my legs under the screamed over and over as loud as I could. I
blue plastic chair because it had a high seat was crying so hard that I fell in the grass. I
and my feet didn’t touch the floor. After a got my new dress dirty, but it didn’t matter
long time, Daddy came through the door. anymore. My Momma was gone, and the
He still looked mad. I was afraid he was lady said she was not coming back. Momma
going to whip me, but he just walked out to didn’t even tell me goodbye.
his truck and left.

Page 20

[OFFER]
I’D LIKE TO DO SOME HOUSESITTING

By Chuck Allen in Charlotte, NC

My name is Chuck Allen, and recently I’ve tasks like mowing the grass, walking
been in the newspaper and on the news for the dog, keeping the house clean, and
running a marathon. The catch was and checking the mail. If you are going to be
still is, I’m homeless. My teammate and away for a while and need a house-sitter,
I finished the marathon in less than four then I’m your guy.
hours. Then the TV station gave us a follow- My affiliation or reference is
up interview. While running this marathon, Runningworks.org and Street Soccer 945
I came up with the idea that I ought to do @ Urban Ministry Center. If interested,
some house-sitting. please call 980.221.7309.
While I am still looking for regular
work, I am also looking for house-sitting
jobs. If my marathon training taught me
anything, it taught me reliability and
responsibility. Jobs like this are new to me,
but I’m up for the task. I can do simple

Page 21

[TRANSPORTATION]
LOST AND FOUND

By Sally Smeltzer in Traverse City, MI

One day, I lost my Volkswagen Jetta Wagon.
It wasn’t that I lost it, it was gone from the
road forever.
2001, 300,000 miles, tarp-covered
windows and missing exhaust. The beautiful
green Jetta that had taken me everywhere
and, at the same time, nowhere, was now
never to be driven again. I remember like
it was yesterday the reality that came along
with this loss.
I was, at the time, in the midst of my
divorce, separated for some time. My
children were with their dad forty miles
away, and my current job was 20 minutes in
the opposite direction of where I was couch
surfing in Traverse City. At this time, I was
dating someone who didn’t and couldn’t
work. I was already losing the battle over
custody due to my living situation, often
living in my car.
This tragic loss caused a domino effect
in my life. The bus wouldn’t work with my
schedule and vice versa with my work. I
soon lost my job. Because of my loss of
employment, this was the last straw in my
battle for my girls. I was thrown into deep
depression and alcoholism. This spiraled
into my running away…thinking I could hide
from reality! One day, I lost my Volkswagen
Jetta; and four years later, I found my Buick
LaSabre.

Page 22

[TRUTHSAYING]
SHELTER SHOCK

By Mark Gansert in Miami, FL

Almost all those you encounter living on the Trapped in a world of the homeless
streets have attempted the homeless shelter and the endless ocean of personal tragedy,
route, including myself. It is a different each individual represents the quenched
world of homelessness altogether. glimmer of hope. It’s usually replaced with
The shelter life is, as unbelievable a hardness which shelters their open hearts
as it may seem, entirely more stressful from the reality of society.
than actually sleeping on the streets. The Yet, I have met a precious few, the most
endless rules and regulations, unrealistic, idealistic of us all, whose genuine love for
occasionally sadistic staff members, and, of mankind cannot be turned by a sea of
course, the fact you are literally stacked on adversity. Usually those who find themselves
top of one another makes for a particularly in a shelter, who are there by sheer bad luck,
undesirable experience. gravitate to these people. Unfortunately, I
You are expected to find gainful have found these individuals do not have
employment within an unusually short time the power to alleviate the problems of the
frame so that you may relieve yourself of many into a solution for the few.
the shelter’s services. It usually winds up as Amidst the jaded, the precious, and the
being a gateway into a homeless revolving simply aghast, a homeless person is faced
shelter door. with an almost insurmountable problem of
Most of the time, just putting the shelter’s bootstrapping themselves to the mainstream
address on your application will exclude you of society from a metal bunk bed or a plastic
from a job. mat on the floor in a room of people who are
My personal favorite topic of discussion in the same situation.
brought up in most homeless shelters is I have seen the fear in the eyes of those
this: They’re making money from us being who are homeless for the first time–even
in here. This usually irritates me and forces military veterans who have seen the horrors
me to attempt to explain (to the idiot who of war. The color drained from their faces,
brings up the topic) that no one makes the shock of realization as they lay down on
money from your homelessness. The idea their bedding in the shelter for the night.
of a for-profit homeless shelter is ridiculous. That first night is unsettling to watch
Someone either donated money or the from afar. For all but the unfeeling, it
government grants money for the shelter resonates throughout the experience.
to operate. Usually, it’s a slathering of both, Whether it is the man who brought it on
neither of which lends itself to raking in the himself through a series of bad decisions
cash. However, trying to explain this to the or those who are victims of unfortunate
idiot is akin to teaching a pig to fly. It makes circumstances beyond their control, the
you look stupid and irritates the pig. evocation is the same.
I ponder the nature of the men and
women who operate homeless shelters.
I have personally met quite a few in my
tramp’s journey. All of them seem to have an
intention of helping the downtrodden. Yet,
in short order, the overwhelming problem
consumes the best of intentions.
Somewhere between the mentally ill,
drug addicts, and the basically lazy, they
find themselves jaded to the illusion of
philanthropy.

Page 23

[GIVING] [OPPORTUNITY]
Many thanks to Speak Up’s sponsors & donors.

TRANSFORMED THE COMMUNITY
CHANGED PERCEPTIONS
GAVE A VOICE
PROMOTED OPPORTUNITY

mullenpublications.com lakeshorecf.com

STARTED A CONVERSATION
SUSTAINED MOMENTUM

Ann and David Nelson, Ron Hinckley, DeAnne Bennett, Mr. Shannon Presler, Seth and Haley
McCord, Angela Snyder, Robert and Tracy Forquer, Linda Beam, Ann M Rogers, Peggi and
Steve Knowe, Cal and Lea Queener, Susie and Keith Lardie, Christa Barrett, Charles Jarrett,
Kristel & Jason Finns, Rise Ward, Marc Dickmann, Joshua Lewis, Bryan Norton, Lauren
Beatty, William and Deborah Shaw, Whitney and Josh Skeans, Aubrye Carr, Nikki Godfrey-
Hill, Jill and Jason Gilmore, Iris Shaw, Owen and Lauren Lienhard, Troy and Christina Felten,
Harry Griffin, Steven Hodgen, Phil and Marilyn Felten, Mark and Cynthia Penzien, Bryan
and Kathy Lewis

Page 24

Become a Sponsor
Please consider a sponsorship gift today to empower those in need and publicly show your
support for jobs and opportunity in the community. All gifts are tax-deductible.

TRANSFORM THE COMMUNITY / $2,500+

“Sponsored by [Your Name]” printed on the front cover
Full page “Featured Sponsor Q & A” published in next zine
plus everything below
CHANGE PERCEPTIONS / $750 & Up

“Meet the Sponsor” blog post profi ling your organization
plus everything below

GIVE A VOICE / $500 & Up

One line of contact info included with your logo in the zine
Thanked in a video, shared on website and on social media
plus everything below
PROMOTE OPPORTUNITY / $250 & Up

Logo included on sponsor’s page in the zine
Thanked on social media (4,500 fans)
plus everything below
START A CONVERSATION / $100 & Up

Listed in next zine on the sponsor’s page
Identified as a sponsor on Speak Up website

“Speak Up gave me a chance to
create my own future.”

—said by a once-homeless former magazine vendor
who now owns his own moving company