I was walking down a street in one of Seattle's toniest neighborhoods with my 25-year-old daughter and another young woman. We were part of Seattle/King County's One Night Count of the homeless, a massive effort to document the number of "unsheltered" persons on a random winter night.
When I worked as an outreach case manager in Los Angeles, nothing was more heartbreaking than when I would have to turn a homeless family away because U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development didn't feel the family was "homeless enough."
Generosity is a state of mind that goes beyond the possession of money and material goods and relates to feelings of abundance from positive connections. To own an authentic sense of generosity is a gift we give ourselves.
Generational poverty can be solved. I'm a living example of what can happen when public policy programs, such as food stamps and Section 8, are combined with solid educational opportunities and the influence of adults who believe in their children.
It's high time that we understand the lost human capital of foster care children and be proactive in our approach to to usher them into adulthood -- really, just another three to five years -- the right way.
Ending child poverty in the world's largest economy should be a no-brainer. Children cannot afford the burden of poverty. And our nation cannot afford the costly economic and moral burden of child poverty.
Of New York's 1.1 million public school students, one in 12 are homeless. Many live doubled up with extended family or are temporarily housed in hotels or motels. But more than 23,000 live in family shelters on any given day.
Late spring 1993, a widow and her three children became homeless. Tyeast Boatwright had managed to get by after her husband's death. She'd had a good job coding pediatric medical records for the University of Chicago, but administrative cuts eliminated her position.
Imagine she retreats to a shelter where aggressive, belligerent, or intoxicated people accost her, make snide comments about her child, and multiply the fears that first led her to the shelter. Should she stay? Would you?