“My name is Jackie, and I’m really interested in the visitation program. If someone could call me back and tell me what it’s all about, I would appreciate it… I would love to have a visitor come and visit me. ‘Cause I need that right now with everything I’ve got going on in my life.”
“My name is Jackie, and I’m really interested in the visitation program. If someone could call me back and tell me what it’s all about, I would appreciate it… I would love to have a visitor come and visit me. ‘Cause I need that right now with everything I’ve got going on in my life.”
Jackie’s the kind of person you want to be stuck in an elevator with. The conversation flows effortlessly. Her whole face reflects each smile. And with an unrestrained laugh that is playful and contagious.
With her warm demeanor and outgoing personality, she’s not the stereotypical person you might assume would seek out our visitation program.
Five years ago, Jackie was reeling from a messy separation that left her homeless, and with injuries that would cause breathing issues for the rest of her life.
After a period of living in a homeless shelter, Jackie gratefully moved into a single-room-occupancy hotel (SRO) in Old Town.
Healing from both physical and emotional trauma, many people’s natural reaction would be to recoil tightly. But not Jackie.
Feeling like the new kid at school, she would slowly walk down to the lobby each day.
Desperate for a familiar face, Jackie was relieved to recognize a friend from the homeless shelter. They were both attending Portland Community College, and the friendship blossomed around shared homework sessions in the building’s lobby.
Yet, like a Band-Aid being ripped off a fresh wound, Jackie’s first attempt at friendship also ended in a violent scare.
“So there I was being back by myself again. I started sitting in my room again more… I needed to get out of my room. I was getting isolated.”
“So there I was being back by myself again. I started sitting in my room again more… I needed to get out of my room. I was getting isolated.”
Jackie knew she needed to “get more active with people.” She had a huge heart that longed to love – and be loved.
Finally convincing herself to open her heart once more, she introduced herself to each of her neighbors. And she called the number on the Maybelle Center flyer she had seen posted around the building.
Despite her outgoing personality, the four walls and a roof that Jackie longed for, became a place of isolation.
It’s no wonder. Connection and community are basic human needs, just like food and shelter. We all need genuine relationships. No matter our socio-economic status, race, or even personality type.
And when we’re healing from trauma, relationships are even more integral. For Jackie, her volunteer visitor was one of those critical relationships.
Sometimes what we really need most, is simply for someone to sit beside us, listen, and just care.
Nobody should face tumultuous times alone. Your gift is a tangible way you can demonstrate that you’re walking alongside Jackie – and so many of our neighbors like her.
Don’t miss part 2 of Jackie’s story next week!
The biggest challenge to friendship in a SRO and what to do about it.
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