No Food For You

Hello all! I hope your weeks have been more fantastic than the thought of 'Swan Lake' performed by baby pigs.

While this is mostly a humor blog, I do sometimes feel the need to address ridiculousness that I see out in the world. Today is one of those days.

For months I have seen posts on Twitter, Facebook and even in the news about how those who receive Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program funding (more commonly referred to as food stamps) should have to pass a drug test to qualify.

At first blush to many I'm sure that that sounds like a fantastic idea. Sadly, that first blush would only last about .05 seconds before the negative effects of that kind of legislation would bring would begin to show themselves. So today your friendly neighborhood social worker is going to explain to you why drug testing for food stamps is not a grand idea!

Just to give you all a little background, I have worked with impoverished populations for my entire adult career, have helped the government perform studies on homelessness (I even wrote some of the parameters for state and federal programs) and am considered enough of an expert in my field that I have been asked to teach students (yes, your children) about poverty in the United States by both public and Christian schools. I've taught classrooms full of first graders and given lectures to university students.

I say all that so that I can say this; drug testing for benefits will cost the government an insane amount of money and won't actually punish the people who some (wrongly) feel need punishment. Here is why:

1. It's already been proven not to be effective at saving money. In fact Florida tried it. No really check it out. Out of the 4,068 people tested, only 2.6% tested positive for drugs (most of the positive results were for marijuana, not hard illicit drugs). The state spent over $118,000 dollars on the drug testing alone only to waste a majority of that money on people who, surprise, were not using their SNAP funding to buy drugs.

2. The government systems to run SNAP are already overloaded. In Washington state alone there is such a backlog on six-month checkups for food stamp recipients that now an automated system has been put in place with a lottery system to audit whether the check-ups have even been performed. This means that about one in twenty participants will be audited a year. Why? Because Washington State lacks the money to hire enough people to review each and every single case. 

DSHS is the largest government organization in Washington. So tell me, how much manpower are they going to have to hire to cover their current deficit plus this new drug testing program? In Spokane we don't have enough money to fix our pot holes in the road, you want money to check for every pot head? Good luck with that.

3. Drug addiction is a complicated matter. You don't cure someone from drug addiction by saying "No food for you!" You only make already desperate people more desperate. Want a higher crime rate? Deprive drug addicts of basic necessities and see what happens. You want fewer people to use drugs, how about we stop closing down treatment facilities that supposedly 'cost too much.'

4. A mass majority of food stamps and welfare recipients are not drug addicted fiends. You want to know the biggest demographics of SNAP users? It just so happens that the highest percentages are Caucasian, working families with children or with an elderly relative in the home. 

So implementing a system for a tiny minority that is using some form of drug that is going to cost extreme amounts of money is short sighted and ridiculous. Not to mention the amazing inconvenience we would, as a nation, be putting people through just to get one of their basic necessities met. It already can take six hours to do a six-month recertification, and we want to add a pee test to that?

5. Taking away food stamps, even from people who test positive for drugs, has the potential to take away food from a child. That's right, sometimes people who use drugs have kids, and those kids' only source of food is welfare. Yes, it sucks. Yes it's not right, but there it is. The majority of those who benefit from programs like SNAP and TANF (Temporary Assistance for Needy Families) are children. 

So before we blindly hurrah behind the "I don't want my money going to addicts" rhetoric, let's think about the consequences and who we would actually be hurting. Answer: Mostly working families with kids and ourselves for wasting our own tax dollars.

As always I can be found on Facebook and Twitter and check out my books on Amazon. 

What Lee Left Us

Hello all. I hope everyone has had at least marginally successful weeks (or at least been able to give failure a couple slaps in the face).

Well, in a break from my normal more jovial posts, this week I wish to honor a life lived truly in the service of others. Spokane, and the world at large, lost a man this past week who was dedicated to social justice, an ardent advocate for homeless rights and a truly wonderful soul: Lee Nelson.

Lee worked for many years as a homeless outreach worker, traveling under bridges, in train yards, through make-shift tent cities and wherever the homeless could be found to help connect them to vital supplies and services. I got the opportunity to work with him during my time as a homeless and at-risk youth outreach worker and then in the following years on various homeless advocacy projects.

Whether his name goes down in the history books or not is irrelevant, because he touched the lives of so many. Even the meanest, most hardened, train-hopping homeless man had respect and words of kindness for Lee.

This past week we had the Homeless Connect event here in Spokane (the pictures included in this post are from the event). In one day over 40 service providers came together for a one-stop-shop for homeless services, greatly diminishing one of the major barriers to receiving help: distance. This year the event, which helped 250 to 300 homeless in five hours time, was held in honor of Lee.

Lee saw my strange career from the beginning, he met me one month after I had graduated from college with a bachelor's degree in my hot little hands. So in honor of a man that I looked up to as a mentor and someone I saw as a friend, I want to impart some of the wisdom to you all that he imparted to me.

1. Treat everyone as fairly as you can.

Lee didn't care what your skin color was, what your sexual orientation was, how long your rap sheet took to print out, when you last shot up or what gang tattoo was on the back of your hand. He was going to treat you with the same amount of respect as the person sitting on the bench next to you. This meant that if he offered socks to one person, then even if the person sitting next to that person was a loud-mouthed jerk, he would offer them socks too.

Food Bank at the Spokane Homeless Connect

2. Call people out on their bullshit, but don't ever make them feel like bullshit.

I cannot count the number of times when I would be at the same homeless meal site when Lee was there and would watch as someone would be coming down from meth, or detoxing from an alcohol binge or suffering the side-effects that come from not taking their medication.

Over 40 Service Providers Gathered to Help the Homeless

 He would calmly sit there and talk to them, whether he'd known them for years or known them for minutes in the same jovial tone, "So you used again? Well, how's it feeling? Not great? You ready for treatment yet? No? Well, when you are, just let me know, we'll get someone down here to do an assessment. Here's some hand warmers your fingers look frozen man." 

It was never, "Go to treatment," or "I can't believe you used again!"

With Lee it was always, "You ready for treatment? No? Well, tell me when you want to stop feeling like crap and we'll make it happen."

That was it, no guilt trip, just a hard look at the facts. Your actions are hurting you, here's an out. You want it, it's yours. You don't, that's your choice.

3. Nothing changes without people willing to get their boots on the ground and their clothes a little dirty.

Providing Hope One Pair of Socks at a Time

Working street outreach meant that us workers had to go into some pretty decrepit places. I can remember one bridge in particular where we all knew to stay on the path provided, because everywhere outside of the path was fair game for toilet use.

While none of us found it pleasant, we didn't complain about it much either. After all, we didn't have to live there, we were just there temporarily to give out aid.

In social work you end up going to a lot of meetings (which is the true test of whether you'll make it in social work or not, can you stay awake and not kill anyone during endless meetings?).

In one such meeting there was a politician-administrator type who was pontificating about his plan to end homelessness (which was a load of absolute tripe). About halfway through his little speech, Lee put up a hand. The guy speaking ignored him. After a minute Lee calmly and quietly said, "Excuse me."

The speaker gave him an annoyed glance from behind his two-hundred dollar glasses and said, "What?"

Lee just shrugged and evenly asked, "You ever been homeless?"

"Well, no."

"How long you worked with homeless people?"

"Well I volunteer in a soup kitchen once a year..."

"So, you don't work with homeless people and you were never homeless."

"Umm..."

Lee let out a laugh, "So what makes you think you know how to end homelessness? This is the same crap-plan we've been hearing for decades, and guess what, it doesn't work. You're in a room full of homelessness experts, why don't you sit down and listen to some ideas instead?"

Lee knew the value of going out and having the experience to make actual attainable progress with people and the homeless population at large, even if that meant ruining a few pairs of shoes. There was no other way to understand the population and no other way to find ways to actually help them.

It saddens me that the world has lost another great advocate and person of purpose. However, I do know that the lives he touched across the country will be forever changed by his sense of humor, compassion and immense patience.


As always I can be found Facebook, Twitter (@AllisonHawn) and Goodreads!

It Takes a Community...

Hello all! I hope you all survived your respective weeks with finesse and grace.

In contrast, I spent much of my week pretty much doing this:

Before I jump in to why I might as well have been IV injecting caffeine, I should probably announce the results of the latest contest.

Thank you everyone who voted for "Life is a Circus Run by a Platypus" to win a People's Choice Award. Sadly, I did not win, but I was the runner up with 93 votes because my readers are rad! Our t-shirt winner was Lauren Schmitt-Boyd! Wear your platypus with pride, Lauren!

 I also, finally, have the results from the November and December book drive to benefit the YWCA! Thank you to everyone who bought a copy of "Life is a Circus Run by a Platypus", you raised around $100 that will go to help support women and men who suffer from homelessness, domestic violence and other life-barriers! Thank you! 


I realize that on this blog I tend to stay on the lighter side of life, however, we must all admit that life is not always peaches and cream.

My day job, when I'm not driving my coworkers insane, is working with those that society has mostly forgotten. I work with those who are homeless, women and men who face domestic violence, ex-convicts, street kids, people with active warrants, veterans, drug addicts, those with untreated mental diagnosis, sometimes people who smell like excrement and people who have struggles in their lives bigger than they are.

I am a social worker.

This post is not to get on any platform or start some political argument based around who does and does not deserve help. Though, honestly, if anyone is going to have a judgmental attitude about those I serve, please keep in mind I've always wanted to try this:

I bring up my vocation because of what I was a part of this week. Every year in Spokane, or for the past three years, The Homeless Coalition has held an event called The Homeless Connect. The event is basically a one-stop-shop for social services.

Why might that be important? Ok, imagine, if you will that you are homeless and your main form of transportation is your feet. Now imagine that in one day's time you have to go set up an appointment to see if you qualify for housing, then travel six miles to see if you can get on a computer at the local labor office so you can check to see if your resume has been accepted by any companies, then you must walk another four miles to find the nearest place that is serving lunch, then you must walk another five miles to see if you can get on a list to stay in a shelter (because, after all, if you don't get your name in early, you won't get a bed)...


If you want to survive, there is no such thing as being homeless and lazy.

The average homeless person will walk upwards of ten to fifteen miles a day to receive basic services. The Homeless Connect, for one day a year, unites as many agencies as we can get in one location changing that ten to fifteen miles into the distance of one gymnasium.

I was on the planning committee for this event, which took months and months of tired looking social workers gathering around a table and saying things like, "Does anyone have any idea who actually said they would show up this year?"

 Well, as it turns out, over 40 agencies showed up. We had veterans services, DSHS, domestic violence services, a free medical clinic, a group that came to fix homeless peoples' bikes for free, mental health services and representatives from the school districts. We even had a group of cosmetology students come and volunteer to give free haircuts to people, some of which hadn't been able to get a haircut in years.

The event fed over 200 people and gave them a warm place to be for a day with wraparound services at their fingertips.

I spent all day on my feet, running about like I had weasels in my pants, but could not have been happier with the results. So much good was done mostly because of the community members who showed up to help.

I truly appreciate all of the social workers, agencies, volunteers and people who donated food and money to get this event off of the ground. You've probably heard that old phrase, "It takes a village to raise a child," but just as true, "It takes a community to help people out of homelessness."

That is what I want this blog post to be about, a moment to realize the difference that communities can make to the downtrodden in our society. In a time of rapidly shrinking resources in the world of social work, it is more important than ever that communities come together in meaningful ways to help the forgotten.

Probably one of the best moments of the entire whirlwind event was when a little old man wandered up to a service provider and said, "Thanks for not making me feel all alone."

My little one-line eavesdrop reminded me a of a poem written by my friend B.S. Johnson, which I have put, with her permission, below:


 Alone

Sometimes I feel like I'm in this world alone,
All I seem to do is wander and roam.
Feelings from deep down inside my soul,
Surround my heart, my mind and don't let go.

Help me someone; don't let me fall too far,
Had my chance, missed my falling star.
Fear in my heart, gripping my throat,
Sinking quickly in this boat.


Thank you to everyone who takes the time to help the homeless and downtrodden in their communities feel less alone in their struggles.


As always, feel free to check out my daily adventures on Facebook, Twitter and Goodreads!

Silver Linings and Hand Sanitizer

This past week I was kissed by the least competent cross-dresser I have ever seen.

I work with homeless youth for a living, and as such, often go to random places where free meals are being held so that I can say things like, “No, really, you do have court today. I don’t care that it’s National Waffle Day, that does not exempt you from showing up.”

I was at one of the early morning breakfast feeding spots for the homeless, when a stubble clad chin with enough make-up to stop a nuclear warhead sauntered up to me unsteadily in a pair of heels that may have been too "out there" for the 1980's.

"Good morning, darling!" the voice boomed from far above my head as a long mane of greasy hair was tossed over a shoulder and jingly accessories danced in a way that would give most small animals a seizure.

I made a small finger wave as I attempted to figure out something to say aside from, "Good heavens! Your eyeliner, it's gone rogue, it's trying to take over your face! Run for your life!"

Then suddenly he swooped down like a hawk going after a legless shrew. I had just enough time to turn my head before he planted a giant sloppy kiss on the side of my head.

Ilsa, an outreach worker from another agency who works primarily with the adult population, reached over smacked him and said, "No! Let her go! What have I told you, we don't kiss people we've just met!"

He let go, and unsteadily sauntered off, winking at me and nearly face-planting into a table. A few minutes later, when I was using enough hand sanitizer on the side of my face to effectively disinfect a beluga whale, the main thought in my head was, "Well, the day can only improve from here."

I find it a little sad that that was my first and only thought. Not, "Holy crap what just happened!?" or "Did I accidentally take some LSD somewhere back there?"

No, my only thought was basically that with the bar set so low for my Wednesday, things could only improve.

I'm not entirely sure what this says about my life. I definitely have a habit of wandering into bizarre situations. Maybe it is kind of like how people who were raised on farms have become desensitized to the smells that make the rest of the civilized world want to yack, I think I have become desensitized to surreal, off the wall, crap happening to me.

I mean, I realize it is not in a person's normal day to watch dancing tweakers, or be delayed getting to work by dancing clowns or be told that they have "lovely lumberjack calves"(I’m still not sure if I want to take that one as a compliment or insult yet).

However, it really doesn't hit me how strange some of this stuff is until I tell someone else about it and they look at me like I've suddenly sprouted antenna and told them that my name is Gozer the Destroyer.

In any case, I wouldn't trade my myriad of crazy situations for the world. Then again, I do sometimes wish they wouldn't slobber as much.