Salvation Army’s proposed centre: more than a shelter
‘Community hub’ would bring myriad social services together
In a pantry about the size of a small office, surrounded by shelves neatly stocked with beans, macaroni noodles and Chips Ahoy cookies, Diana Javier pictures the food bank of her dreams.
It’s an open and inviting space. Designed with nooks for children to play in, it has aisles roomy enough for parents to manoeuvre their bulky strollers. It’s a place where meeting and registering clients could happen more smoothly to cut wait times for the thousands who rely on it. She envisions a food bank laid out like a small grocery store to give people the dignity of choosing what they want to eat, instead of being handed pre-selected provisions in a white grocery bag.
“Some people don’t want to eat mac ‘n’ cheese,” says Javier, the community and family services supervisor at the Salvation Army ’s Ottawa Booth Centre. “I can’t dictate what a person’s needs are.”
Javier’s dream food bank doesn’t just exist in her mind; it forms one part of the Salvation Army ’s daring plan for a new facility it wants to build on Montreal Road in Vanier. City council approved the plan last fall, but any progress remains stalled by an appeal to the Ontario Municipal Board, which may not be heard for at least another year.
Despite being dubbed a “megashelter” by its vocal opponents, Salvation Army officials counter that what they actually want to create is a community hub that would bring their myriad services together under the roof of a brand new, purpose-built complex. What it does on George Street today — and what it hopes to do on Montreal Road someday — goes far beyond simply providing homeless men with a place to sleep, yet that’s the aspect of the plan that continues to get the most airtime.
Some have criticized the Salvation Army as tone-deaf in its approach to the shelter project so far, saying the organization has ignored legitimate concerns raised by the community. The gritty human drama that plays out daily on the sidewalk out front of its current location on George Street in the ByWard Market leaves some fearful about what could come of Montreal Road, the actual and symbolic heart of Vanier.
But first impressions only ever tell part of the story. The rationale behind the project and those pushing to get it done can perhaps best be gleaned from a closer look inside the Booth Centre.
Originally built and operated as a school, the red-brick building at 171 George didn’t come into the Salvation Army’s possession until 1948 (a later renovation in 1963 coincided with official naming it the Booth Centre).
Subsequent additions have added a fourth storey, an administrative wing and a large garage with truck bays.
“There’s always work going on somewhere,” says Marc Provost, the Booth Centre’s executive-director, as he passes a crew of painters in the lobby during a recent tour. Another crew was busily cleaning up a dorm in the basement following an outbreak of bedbugs. “It comes with the territory. Fancy hotels have them as well,” he says.
The emergency shelter occupies the second floor. Most rooms have either six or 12 bunks, but there are some double rooms reserved for clients who have jobs and are trying to save up enough money to get their own place. At midday, most rooms are empty, but here and there a client sleeps soundly or reads a newspaper.
Here, Provost takes an opportunity to dispel an urban legend — that the shelter forces everyone out during the day. In fact, he says, the dorm is only closed for several hours while the floors are cleaned. Some clients do go out and about, as is their right as free people, but others hang out in the common room on the main floor.
With so many men living in such close quarters at the height of a muggy summer, it’s no surprise the dorm looks — and smells — dingy.
Of course, there’s a delicate balance to be struck between this and a space that’s so comfortable and inviting that people wouldn’t want to move on, says Glenn van Gulik, a Salvation Army spokesman who has become the public face of the organization’s effort to build the new complex on Montreal Road. “You don’t want to make it so comfortable that they don’t want to build momentum.”
The Salvation Army does, however, want to offer clients a “dignified” environment that implicitly tells them there is hope, and van Gulik says the current building is a hindrance to that goal.
Upstairs, a special health unit operated in partnership with Ottawa Inner City Health treats clients who may not be well-served in traditional hospitals. They may have unchecked diabetes or heart disease, scoliosis or a bad case of gout. Or they may be recovering from injuries suffered in a fight. The space is brighter and staffed by nurses and personal-care workers around the clock.
The top floor is reserved for men participating in the stabilization and life skills program. It’s the middle ground between detox and a treatment centre, providing participants with workshops ranging from anger management and dealing with bosses to grocery shopping and cooking. Brighter still than either the emergency dorm or the health unit, it welcomes people to the floor with a simple message scrawled on a chalkboard: “The first step towards getting somewhere is to decide that you are not going to stay where you are.”
A separate building immediately south of 171 George houses the Salvation Army’s Anchorage program, a three- to four-month abstinence-based treatment centre with 24 beds. The hallway walls are painted canary yellow and there are several common rooms for residents to chill out in when they’re not in organized sessions. They are free to leave so long as they return by the 11 p.m. curfew and can also qualify for overnight passes to visit family.
Critics of the Salvation Army’s proposal for Montreal Road say the organization’s commitment to abstinence-based addiction treatment runs counter to the harmreduction model championed by many in the social-services field. Will the new facility, for example, include a needle exchange or provide clean drug-use supplies? If not, where will the Salvation Army ’s clients go if they want to drink alcohol or take drugs? And who will be held accountable if their behaviour creates safety concerns for residents?
There’s no need to pit treatment models against each other, says addictions services manager Susan Allaire. One size doesn’t fit all, she says.
“To make it all the same and only provide one option is not a good idea. We want people to have options so they pick the one that’s right for them.”