Divorced woman faces welfare WOITies PATRICIA WAS married for 26 years. By Kate Zimmerman News Reporter Not happily, but she loved her husband. Sitting in an office chair at North Shore Harvest, she recalled how she saw him through the ups and downs of construction businesses in Calgary and Vancouver in the 1980s. She supplemented his erratic income with her own eamings as an accountant, and. in traditional fashion, took care of the house’she shared with him and their two sons. She also put up with his beatings. They were painful, horrifying and denied by her whole family. In addition, she suffered emotional abuse which she now understands was “mental cruelty.” “E used to walk down the street and feel like one of those posh dolls,” Patricia says now, “but with nothing inside me, you know?” Over those years, her self- esteem in a downward spiral, Patricia developed an addiction to alcohol and painkillers. fn 1992, in the midst of assorted family tragedies including the death of a brother, she decided to spend a month at the Victoria Life Enhancement Society to try to get her life back on track. Her husband was supposed to join her for the last week for joint counselling; instead, in the middle of her attempt at heal- ing, he informed her that he wanted a divorce. Patricia, who is in her early 50s, came back to North Vancouver to find the locks on their house changed and the bank accounts they had former- ly shared cleared out. “[’m what they used to call the ‘heart of the family,’ ” she said, her accent still betraying her Yorkshire roots.: “I didn’t lose husband and home — I lost the works.” After years of taking for granted the comforts of a hand- some house. attractive clothes and plenty of spending money, she ended up on welfare. “YT guess I was one of those people who used to think wel- fare people were uneducated bums,” she confessed.“ had so much help from those people.” Legal Aid helped her with her divorce. Social Services gave her welfare and steered See Down and Out page S CALL US: 983-2206 ek f NEWS photo Neil Lucente DUWAINE [S one of the North Shore’s homeless. North Shore Harvest on West Esplanade is one place where the 28-year-old always feels welcome. Their slogan is “A hand up, not a hand-out.” The organization works to put poor peopte back on their feet. tries But with a long criminal record and little education, it’s a big challenge (This is the second instalment of the News’ series about poverty on the North Shore. in next week's instalment, News Reporter Kate Zimmerman will examine poverty among seniors.) DUWAINE BECAME a ward of the state at the age of 11. By Kate Zimmerman News Reporter His mother couldn’t afford to raise four children on her own, so Duwaine was put up for adoption. He spent his tcen years in a scries of foster homes, quitting school at 13. At 19, he said, “the trouble really started.” Duwaine got involved in dealing and taking drugs. He started expressing his anger about his life through violence. often against people whom he describes as “innocent bystanders.” Now 28, he reckons he’s spent a third of his life in jail. Eight months ago. Duwaine “came to know the Lord.” He stopped selling drugs and even- tually got a job at a fast food restaurant. But in the spring, Duwaine lost the position when he fractured his wrist at work. He couldn't get back wages from the Workers Compensation Board and had to start living on $525 a month. The simplest solution to making those dol- lars last on the North Shore was to give up paying rent. That’s why Duwaine is homeless. The situation offers one or two advantages. It keeps Duwaine away from the temptations posed by drug-using roommates. and it means he can occasionally contribute to the support of his two young children, who live with his ex- wife. On the other hand, he said, “Without an address, trying to get access to my kids is like a prayer within a windstorm.” At least Duwaine knows he isn't alone. While David Foster of North Shore Harvest estimates that there are 20 homeless people liv- ing on the North Shore, Duwaine said he knows of about 300 families here who are either squatting ia abandoned buildings or liv- ing in apartments without hydro or clectrical power: Duwaine occasionally cadges a couch, a shower and a meal from friends. Other nights, he camps out behind Grouse Mountain, getting there partly by bus and partly by hiking. He experienced a slight setback lately when his duffel bag went missing from the campsite. In it. Duwaine was storing books which he hoped would help him get a Grade 12 educa- tion. He has checked out several of the services offered to the poor on the North Shore and lately seems to have settled on North Shore Harvest, located behind True North clothing store on West Espianade. North Shore Harvest’s slogan is “A fand up, not a hand-out.” The emphasis, according to Foster. is on getting poor people back on their feet. Though it is not a regular food bank, North Shore Hirvest has @ supply of food from which recipients can choose. It links to other organi- zations for emergency supplies of furniture or clothing. It also offers courses in subjects such as how to cook cheap, nourishing foods. Duwaine approves of the organization's philosophy. “1 want to get off the system.” At the Harvest, “I know I’m welcome,” he said. “t know I can come and get a cup of cof- fee in the morning....” In return, and because his last probation demanded that he perform community service, he volunteers in the warehouse-like space in which the Harvest is housed. He hangs around the place three or four hours a day, helping stock shelves, doing repairs and maintenance and generally getting one meal out of the deal. This is between lool:ing for jobs — no easy task for a guy with little education and a crimi- nal record. Duwaine was once a tree-faller with an industrial first aid ticket. He made money until he broke his back and his hip and severed four fingers, which were reattached. “In the last year, since my injuries, I’ve fall- en into stillness,” he said. “J had a lot of pain inside, anger at what people had done to me,” he added, acknowl- edging that he had himself to blame for much - of his frustration. “I guess I’ve finally grown up enough to understand human nature.” in the meantime, Duwaine carries a pager so prospective employers and others can find him. He attempts to steer clear of temptation, keep- ing out of the way of his fellow recovering addicts. “sharks” and “the criminal element.” That's one of the reasons he stays on the North Shore, rather than heading to Vancouver where there might be more job opportunities. He's trying to get his life on track. “I work out, try to eat healthy,” he said. And he prays -—— wherever he happens to be. “I feel that where you sit and talk to the Lord is your temple.” said Duwaine. THIS WEEK’S QUESTION: Do you think the courts are too lenient in granting bail? -