Homeless people in the library?
Chicago, suburban branches seek help from social workers
In the past, when homeless people left their personal belongings in the aisles of the Addison Public Library, security guards might have asked them to leave.
But that was before the library hired a social worker — someone who viewed the problem from another angle.
“We started looking at patrons in a different way, that maybe some of the behavioral issues we were having at the library were stemming from other needs we could address,” said Mary Medjo Me Zengue, Addison Library director.
Public libraries have long been a refuge, not just for readers, but also for people with nowhere else to go during the day — people who sometimes sleep in chairs, use the bathroom sinks to wash themselves or inject themselves with drugs in bathroom stalls. Sometimes they have been kicked out. At best they’ve been left alone.
But now a growing number of libraries in Illinois and across the nation are facing the issue head-on, hiring social workers to help connect people with housing, health care and food. The Chicago Public Library has a social worker who splits time between two of its Uptown branches, paid for by local hospital system Amita Health. Amita plans to hire social workers for more Chicago library branches in coming months. Amita also pays for a social worker at the Evanston Public Library. The Oak Park Public Library, like Addison, employs its own social worker.
Amita funds the social workers through donations from employees and money set aside for community programs. Notfor-profit hospitals must show they’re spending money to help their communities in order to justify their tax-exempt status, and the hospital system saw a need for treatment of behavioral and mental health, said Cody McSellers-McCray, Amita’s regional director of community health.
Across Chicago, more than 5,500 people are homeless this year, according to the city’s official count. Some advocates say that tally is an underestimate.
Amita started with two Up- oping to encourage voter turnout for the highly charged Nov. 6 midterm election, a growing number of companies are giving employees a half or full day off on Election Day, essentially paying them to go to the polls.
Going beyond the hodgepodge of state laws, which may or may not allow employees to leave work for a few hours to vote, hundreds of businesses — including several in Chicago — have committed to more generous policies that in some cases include closing up shop for the day.
“Being able to take the time to vote is a real barrier for most Americans, and companies are very well-positioned to remove that roadblock for their employees,” said Colette Kessler, director of partnerships for Vote.org, a two-year-old nonprofit aimed at increasing voter turnout.
The right to leave work to vote varies from state to state, ranging from no specific accommodations to several hours of paid time off. Most but not all states prevent employers from penalizing workers who take time off to vote.
But busy workdays, long lines
and difficult logistics nonetheless keep many employees away from the polling booth on Election Day. A study by the Pew Research Center found that 14 percent of registered voters — millions of people — didn’t cast a ballot in the 2016 presidential election because
of a conflicting work or school schedule.
In Illinois, the polls are open from 6 a.m. to 7 p.m. on Election Day, making it a challenge for many employees to squeeze voting into their workday. State law gives employees two hours of unpaid leave to vote, with one day’s advance notice. Employers may decide when the hours are taken.
“If you’re working a typical 9-5 work shift, your employer doesn’t have to give you anything,” said Matt Dietrich, a spokesman for the Illinois State Board of Elections. “They’re not required to give you two hours within the day, at your leisure, to go and come back.”
More than two-thirds of states, including Illinois, offer some form of early voting, but Election Day policy is the logical focal point for companies with regional or national footprints.
In March, Vote.org launched ElectionDay.org, an initiative for companies to encourage voter participation by giving employees paid time off. Chicago-based businesses like software firm Jellyvision and Out-U-Go pet care services are on the list of
“I don’t want to be giving out money to people I don’t know.”
town branches because those libraries were reporting the most disturbances on the North Side, she said. Uptown also has a sizable homeless population.
“For years, we’ve had people coming in we can’t fully help,” said Mark Kaplan, branch manager at the Bezazian branch in Uptown. “We’re not behavioral health professionals.”
When she’s at the Bezazian branch, licensed clinical social worker Justine Janis often sits at a small table near the large front windows. The 29year-old also walks around the library chatting with people, getting to know them. “We want to respect people’s privacy but also let people know … we’re available,” Janis said. “This is new for Chicagoans.”
On a recent chilly weekday afternoon, the library brimmed with young children, students and men slouched over tables, resting.
One middle-aged man motioned Janis over to his table, quietly asking her where he might find a shelter for the night. She spent the next half-hour explaining options to him, learning more about his difficulties and giving him handouts detailing assistance programs. As they spoke, an anxious-looking, middle-aged woman in a gray hoodie stood behind them, waiting for her turn to consult Janis.
They were among the dozens of people Janis said she has helped since starting at the Chicago Public Library in September. She held a similar job at the Evanston Public Library.
Among the people she assisted in Evanston were an elderly homeless couple who’d been visiting the library for years. A social service agency had reached out to the couple in the past, but they didn’t want to leave the library, which they considered their safe space, Janis said. She got to know them, and in time, connected them with an agency that found housing for the
“For years, we’ve had people coming in we can’t fully help. We’re not behavioral health professionals.” — Mark Kaplan, library branch manager in Uptown
couple.
She also worked with an immigrant who was too proud to reach out when his finger swelled with infection. Janis said she helped him see a doctor and sign up for Medicaid.
And she helped 71-yearold Shelia Wideman flee a rodent-infested home for a better apartment in Evanston. Wideman said she sometimes has trouble understanding things, but Janis worked with her to find housing and set up doctors’ appointments.
“I really didn’t know about her at first, but I needed help,” Wideman said. “She was just a wonderful person to work with, even to talk with.”
Sometimes just talking to patrons, providing emotional support and letting them know they aren’t alone, can help, Janis said.
Many traditional library patrons — those who go to the library to read or study — also seem to support the program.
“I see a lot of homeless people coming in all the time,” said Ashle Anderson, a graduate student at National Louis University who studied at Bezazian on a recent day. “If there’s a social worker available, they can maybe … talk to people if they need substantial help.”
Placing social workers in libraries has caught on in other areas of the country as well, including Denver, Brooklyn and Washington, D.C. Janis, who leads a monthly call for library social workers across the country, estimates that more than 30 libraries now have full-time social workers.
The San Francisco Public Library is believed to have been the first in the nation to add a full-time social worker, Leah Esguerra, back in 2009. Since then, Esguerra said she has helped more than 120 people find permanent housing and made contact with patrons about 7,000 times.
Esguerra also oversees a team of formerly homeless people who now work in the library, providing peer counseling and outreach to patrons.
“The people who are struggling are already here at the library,” making it an ideal place to reach out to them, Esguerra said.
She believes every library could use a social worker, even those that don’t face homelessness in the same way that San Francisco and Chicago do.
The Addison library, for example, sees some homeless patrons, but the social worker there helps many teenagers and Spanishspeaking families. The library is across the street from a junior high, so teens and pre-teens often flood into the library after school.
“It’s not realistic to tell a 12-year-old kid who’s been in school all day and sitting next to six of his friends, ‘You have to be quiet,’” Medjo Me Zengue said. “They’re just not capable of that.”
In the past, security guards might have booted noisy kids from the premises, she said. But one of the library’s previous social workers had a better idea. She suggested establishing social zones within the library where kids could talk to one another at reasonable volumes, away from quiet areas for adults.
Another suggestion was “restorative justice” with kids who still misbehaved. Now, instead of being asked to leave the library, a disruptive teen might instead be asked to apologize to patrons he or she disturbed or be asked to work in the library for an afternoon. To make up for boorish behavior, the teen might hand out snacks to other kids or spread mulch outside the building.
“We’re keeping them here but letting them know what the rules are and finding a reasonable balance,” Medjo Me Zengue said.
At some libraries, like Evanston, social workers also help the staff. The social worker there helps employees recognize and best serve patrons who might have mental illnesses or be on the autism spectrum, said Karen DanczakLyons, Evanston library director. They also help staff members manage their own stress, she said.
“We’re not taught to be social workers. We’re taught to be librarians,” Danczak-Lyons said. “I believe you bring in the expertise you need.”
Robert Simmons, director of social services and safety at the Oak Park Public Library, expects the number of libraries with social workers to continue to grow. He started working at the Oak Park library in 2016, the same year that a homeless man died after taking heroin in a thirdfloor bathroom at the library.
Simmons said he’s helped more than 500 people, referring them to social service agencies and organizations. That included some people who came to the library specifically to see him, such as a woman and her 6-month-old baby who were living in an abandoned building.
Someone suggested she go to the library to see Simmons for help. He coordinated with a social service agency worker and within two days, the woman and her child were receiving care in a shelter with comprehensive services, he said.
“Libraries are finding there are just more and more socially isolated people using their facilities,” Simmons said. “They really are requiring more than just traditional library services.”