Striking down a lack of faith in the Salvation Army
Because homeless shelters deeply keep theirs — no ifs, ands or buts
In the aftermath of a brazen street killing, a city councillor says he’s lost faith in the Salvation Army’s ability to keep things neat, tidy and orderly around its Booth Centre on George Street. And to get to the “core” of the issue.
“Faith.” Interesting word choice by Lowertown Coun. Mathieu Fleury.
I’ve lost faith, by the way, in city council’s handling of the ByWard Market area, which is now so overloaded with bars that Saturday nights often end in violence, shootings and the usual disgraces that belong to 2 a.m. I’m losing faith in the city’s anti-gang strategy, which is looking at a terrible year in terms of gun play and organized crime chaos. I’ve lost faith, mostly, in politicians.
But let us stick with the Salvation Army. Coun. Fleury is a likable man, did a commendable job in the Rideau Street sinkhole crisis, and possibly just misspoke on this matter. Or his youth was showing.
The Salvation Army’s Booth Centre is not the problem. It is part of the solution. Faith? They couldn’t open the doors unless the people who worked inside held onto the noble belief that they are called to help the city’s most vulnerable citizens. It is not a coincidence that the three biggest providers of shelter beds, food, clothing and hope are all Christian-based: the Salvation Army, the Shepherds of Good Hope and The Ottawa Mission.
They don’t need his faith. They’re compelled by their own. If the city would like to take over caring for the most mentally ill people fighting for survival on the streets, they’re welcome to it. Why on earth would we blame a helping organization for violence that occurs in a public place a block away?
“Losing faith?” The city should get on its knees every day and express gratitude that private charitable organizations are helping the poorest of the poor. And yet we throw stones, from that glass palace on Laurier Avenue?
Saturday was dreary, grey and miserable. On his day off, I found the Sally Ann’s executive director, Marc Provost, at his desk at 11 a.m., a desk with a calendar filled with sticky notes and reminders. The work, of course, never ends.
“If you’re looking for just a job, this is not the line of work to take on,” he said, rain pitter-pattering outside. “You believe in the cause. You believe you can make a difference in people’s lives.”
First things first. The slaying of Kayla Sullivan, 30, which prompted Fleury’s remarks, did not occur on Sally Ann property, nor did it occur because the organization turns a blind eye toward security. It has already acted on two safety audits done by police.
We have three sizable shelters downtown, in proximity. Clients have the gamut of social problems, including addiction. Of course they hang around: They don’t have homes to go to. The shelters are not operating daycares for drifters; they are not responsible for clients off the premises, like kids on a school trip. They are certainly not criminal investigators.
Provost spelled out the many steps the Salvation Army has taken to ensure a secure space, including better lighting and two security guards who work 24/7. The problem is that street sweeps and police intervention simply move the drug dealing and troublemaking from corner to corner.
“We don’t just want to move them from here to somewhere else,” he said. “Personally, I would hope that’s not what we’re trying to achieve here.”
He is diplomatic about Fleury’s criticism, clearly not wanting to engage in a war of words. “It’s not about blaming anybody. It’s about putting our heads together, really.”
Let’s face it. These are intractable problems faced in every large city in North America. Nobody has a magic wand to deal with a street-entrenched population who are hard to house and difficult to keep sober, productive and mentally healthy. So the Sally Ann marches on, fuelled by its own faith.
“Our No. 1 priority is to be there for vulnerable people in a safe manner. And that’s not going to change.”
Provost said there is a meeting this week of “community partners,” including police and other shelters, to discuss ongoing security issues in the socialservices quadrant.
“At the end of the day, we all want the same thing.”
So absolutely, we keep the faith. Without it, there is no hope, and without hope, there is nothing.