TAKING A PAY CUT Ben Laudermilch (Unit 217) Tri-City Homeless Coalition So I was making a killing in the first half of the summer at a candy factory, nine dollars an hour, and I kept thinking, "How am I going to make it on forty-five bucks a month?" I had never worked in the name of service in my life-unless you include self-service. I had no idea where I was headed or what I could bring to BVS. I hopped on a plane-which I would have preferred not to have done because of my near phobia-and flew to Chicago. During orientation, I was contemplating many different projects and was having quite a bit of trouble narrowing it down to three choices. With the desire to work closely with people, and the assurance from staff that such a project was hurting for a new Case Manager, I headed off to Fremont, California and the Tri-City Homeless Coalition. The first day of work was fascinating but overwhelming. Pam, the Program Director, gave me a tour of the two-year-old facility Sunrise Village. I was informed that it was one of the few shelters in the Bay Area specifically constructed to be utilized as a shelter (as opposed to a converted store front or office building), Pam showed me my office space and I began reading a binder filled with shelter information. For weeks I suffered through the lengthy policy and procedure manual, and I shadowed my Case Management Mentor and Tina, my BVS housemate. I was pretty certain that I would never get all of the paperwork, filing, and technical concerns of the shelter nailed down but I was intrigued by the cliental. I could not get enough of hearing the resident's describe their unique life stories, attempts at cleaning up legal messes, and battles with drugs and alcohol. One of the first residents I met seemed very together; I could not figure out why he was staying in the shelter. He had good job skills and decent social skills-and I spoke with him at least once a day. I came to work one morning and was told to look at the incident reports from the night before. The police had come for this resident based on a suspected felony offense. The last I heard, he was in the state penitentiary. This scenario was quite upsetting to me, but it definitely does not define my experiences at the shelter. About a month after I had arrived, I did an intake on a single mother with two young sons. She was in recovery, on welfare, and had just begun job training. The situation did not look very good. It was nearly impossible for her to save enough money to provide for the months after her stay in the shelter. We labored over solutions to her dilemma but nothing seemed to work out. During the last week of her four-month stay, Pam notified me of a housing scholarship that this resident might be eligible for. Fortunately, she won the scholarship and had gained a high-paying apprenticeship. She is currently living with her two sons in a two-bedroom townhouse in a nice part of Fremont. After several such incidents, not so extreme, I began to see how I had stereotyped the homeless prior to my placement. I had assumed that issues of homelessness were synonymous with issues of severe drug and alcohol abuse or mental illness. Also, I had assumed that most cases of homelessness were similar. Although my assumptions were sometimes true, many of the folks I have come in contact with had simply made some major mistakes. I even see the potential of making some of the same mistakes myself. The challenge, however, is not to identify with the residents; it is the task of trying to figure out the solution to unsolvable situations. Some days I cannot believe how frustrating this entire process is, but it is the housing scholarships and successful move-outs that make this volunteer position worthwhile. Furthermore, one flashback to my summer factory job and the monotony of inspecting rows of candy for defects has lead me to a staggering conclusion: Offering myself to the service of others is definitely worth the pay cut.