This is a new series about homeless people who have succeeded in getting off the streets.
Larry Fowler uses only one weapon in this battle against homelessness: his mind. After decades spent in and out of shelters and transitional housing, he knows how well they do—or don’t—work.
“I’ve watched this for a long time,” he states quietly after a long pause.
Simms watched the homeless of Washington, D.C. from the vantage of his own poverty for over twenty-years, and it seems as though he took copious notes. These years of experience, coupled with a desire to help others regain their independence, have transformed Simms from a man who shuttled between hospitals and shelters, to a self-sufficient citizen with strength to share and opinions that will be heard.
To fully grasp the transformation of Simms, one must start at the very beginning, when he slipped from his family home onto the streets. When his mother died around 1980, he floated among relatives, but his father had a family of his own, and no one in the Simms family wanted to deal with his drug problem. For over two decades, he stayed in shelters and drifted in and out of trouble, always looking for “somethin’ for nothing.”
Eventually, it was his health that reversed the vicious cycle: through his drug abuse Simms acquired HIV. The final impetus to turn his life around happened last February when he collapsed four times, a result of a serious form of arthritis.
He told himself then, “You gotta make a change—or die.” He made the change.
After ninety-days in drug treatment programs and two months of transitional housing, Simms was well on his way to a healthier way. Now cleaned up, he begins his quest for a solid home, a place to match his new standard of living, and recovered self-respect.
And as his world expands, he wishes to include his loved one. He has two children, the youngest is 15. “I want my kids to come stay with me sometimes,” he says, earnest and sincere.
When he was homeless, Simms would panhandle or shoplift all day to make money for food and drugs until it was time to line up outside the shelters. A far cry from last year, Simms now studies daily and has a regular address. He attends classes for a GED and goes to Alcoholics Anonymous and Narcotics Anonymous meetings.
He currently lives in a single resident occupancy (SRO) room in a building with other previously homeless people, who often all share a kitchen or bathroom. This set-up, he feels, teaches structure and forms “a community within a community.” He believes this support system allows people to better
reintegrate themselves in society. Simms still aspires to move into a place of his own, though, and this year he is in line for an apartment voucher from a program that specifically helps HIV patients.
Simms does not limit his goals and pursuits to only himself, however,” I see myself in them,” he states, reminded of his own pain every time he passes a person living on the street.
He has become a CARE (Citizens about Real Empowerment), a group he describes as “a voice for those who can’t get down to city council and voice their opinions.” He and the other members of the group have not only conversed with city council members, but also have met with attorneys for the city and spoken at press conferences. In addition, the group members give testimonials relating to the laws and policies that would affect the homeless population. Simms himself testified twice in a fight to secure the trust fund supporting some Section 8 apartment vouchers.
Simms biggest success to date with CARE came into being on the 15th of September. CARE has struggled to maintain the homeless status of people living in SRO’s. (If they are not considered homeless under the law, people like Simms will have difficulty receiving Section 8 housing vouchers if they wish to move out. Fortunately, people like Simms keep fighting—and winning.
As he observes, “Some of us know how to get ourselves up off the grounds, some of us need to be picked up.”
Simms has more than enough experience in life to theorize on homelessness and the best ways to solve it, but unlike most, his models for change start inside. “The homeless have lost their character, lost their faith and their hope,” he remarks. “Make them feel wanted and accounted for.”
Simms believes this is what is missing from the current system, and has a new framework in mind. The new program structure would group homeless people into houses or buildings much like the SRO arrangement. Under his plan, these groups would then meet with advisors for matters of money, education—anything they need to “teach them how to live again.”
To Simms, humanity is found in small pieces of the everyday—pieces the homeless need to adapt, like lockers to store belongings during the day, but tokens to move abut in the city and job leads.
Here again Simms counters the stereotype that homeless is a chosen path by remembering that each person on the street is just that: a person. Simms knows quite well the homeless do not wish to be homeless.
“We are not looking for a handout,” he explains, “we are looking for help.”
