A short video I am in (grey shirt, dancing; pink shirt, speaking). This video explains why holistic programs at the Lodestar Day Resource Center really are needed in the fight to end homelessness.
About Me
- Shannon Felty
- I was once a successful career woman, living the ideal middle class life. I gave up my career to be a stay at home mom when an autoimmune disease made it impossible to maintain my career, or keep any job long term. When my 10 year relationship ended in violence, I quickly found myself homeless - and INVISIBLE. I, like so many other homeless individuals, do not fit the mold. We are nothing like the stereotypes society imposes on us. As long as we are "invisible" our plight goes unnoticed. I am here to speak up for this large percentage of the homeless population. I am challenging the notions of homelessness in America. PLEASE BECOME FOLLOWER!
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Saturday, July 2, 2011
The Greatest Loss
Its not about a house. Its not about a car or a job, or even money. All of those things certainly do make life easier and more enjoyable, sure. But in comparison to all a homeless person has lost, those losses are miniscule. The greatest loss a homeless individual faces is the loss of self.
So much of who we perceive ourselves to be is wrapped up in what we do for work, where we live, how we commute, and what activities we can afford to indulge in for fun. Those things have become a big part of WHO we are. Is it any wonder these things are so important in our sense of self? Surnames were established to differentiate one "John" from another as far back as the 1100's for European countries and maybe further back in Asian lands. These surnames told what a person did for a living (Smith was a blacksmith) or where they were from, which would indicate class distinction. We learned through the generations that these things were of high importance to our identity. What a shame that is when you wake up one day to find you have lost it all.
Before my illness set in, I was a successful Buyer/Planner for a large corporation, trusted to spend millions of dollars and relied on to save millions of dollars more. I was a Super Mom to my kids, having a homemade dinner on the table at 6:00 every evening, and helping them maintain their honor roll grades. I was the "caregiver" to my siblings and their children, dropping everything to help them when they needed something. I was needed, and wanted, by many people.
In a matter of a year, I went from being an independent, strong, and giving individual to someone who needed the kindness of others to help me survive. So who am I now?
For a while, I wasn't sure. My sense of self was torn to shreds. My self esteem was low, and my dignity was at risk of being lost forever. Today, thanks to the help of people and programs at the Lodestar Day Resource Center, I am once again me. I have learned the hard way that what you do, where you live, and how much you have doesn't make you WHO you are. In spite of all that I lost, I am a valuable person and have much to contribute to our society. I am worthy of love, respect, and dignity. I still don't have a place of my own in which to dwell, but I now know that homeless does not mean hopeless.
Who would you be if just one crisis stripped you of everything you have?
So much of who we perceive ourselves to be is wrapped up in what we do for work, where we live, how we commute, and what activities we can afford to indulge in for fun. Those things have become a big part of WHO we are. Is it any wonder these things are so important in our sense of self? Surnames were established to differentiate one "John" from another as far back as the 1100's for European countries and maybe further back in Asian lands. These surnames told what a person did for a living (Smith was a blacksmith) or where they were from, which would indicate class distinction. We learned through the generations that these things were of high importance to our identity. What a shame that is when you wake up one day to find you have lost it all.
Before my illness set in, I was a successful Buyer/Planner for a large corporation, trusted to spend millions of dollars and relied on to save millions of dollars more. I was a Super Mom to my kids, having a homemade dinner on the table at 6:00 every evening, and helping them maintain their honor roll grades. I was the "caregiver" to my siblings and their children, dropping everything to help them when they needed something. I was needed, and wanted, by many people.
In a matter of a year, I went from being an independent, strong, and giving individual to someone who needed the kindness of others to help me survive. So who am I now?
For a while, I wasn't sure. My sense of self was torn to shreds. My self esteem was low, and my dignity was at risk of being lost forever. Today, thanks to the help of people and programs at the Lodestar Day Resource Center, I am once again me. I have learned the hard way that what you do, where you live, and how much you have doesn't make you WHO you are. In spite of all that I lost, I am a valuable person and have much to contribute to our society. I am worthy of love, respect, and dignity. I still don't have a place of my own in which to dwell, but I now know that homeless does not mean hopeless.
Who would you be if just one crisis stripped you of everything you have?
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