If You Are Going to be Homeless – Go First Class

I was wandering around the halls of educational institutions trying to decide on a major and had been doing this for quite some time. The problem was I had too many interests – an epicurean of sorts. I wanted to try everything. According to my medicine man there is a story in the Lakota tradition of someone like me called “the two faced woman”. It does not mean being two faced in the conventional sense but rather being interested in many things. So the name the medicine man named me was Ite – which was the legend of the two faced one. She was beautiful on one side and the opposite on the other and had brought the tradition of quillwork to the tribe. Unfortunately they cut her nose off – but remember this is a myth.

Once I decided what major and degree I wanted to pursue I made my way from Hawaii to Rapid City, South Dakota, and enrolled at Oglala Lakota College. I arrived in Rapid City with no savings and not much of a plan. I just had faith it would work out and I had many friends there. I knew what I wanted to do.

I secured a room in a motel-hotel as a maid in exchange for a room. I would clean over a dozen rooms a day; some were kitchenettes rented by working adults. I started school and I got another part time job in a laundromat doing alterations where my seamstress skills were put to good use. I did not worry about transportation; between the great bus system, my bicycle and walking, I got around just fine. (I love walking!)   

So I thought I had my act all together. I had moved from a small room to a studio where I had more space and I was able to decorate it to make it homey. I had a hotel room size refrigerator. I could make coffee, sandwiches, salads and keep some fruit on hand but I couldn’t cook regular meals. I dined out a lot or would go to the homeless shelter to eat one meal. I knew a lot of the homeless people because most were Lakota people and Native Americans from other areas so naturally I met them at events in town or would meet them at ceremony.

One day I woke up with a terrible flu with a temperature of 105, body aches, could not move, vomiting and the rest of the symptoms. I went to the receptionist who was my supervisor and told her I could not work. She started yelling at me and I could literally see her tonsils. Well, I got evicted immediately and I had nowhere to go except to the homeless shelter so I trudged down there pulling my luggage on wheels behind me. It was only about 4 or 5 blocks but it took me over 2 hours to get there since I had to stop periodically on the way to rest.

But before I left I had put on my make-up, fixed my hair and put on a nice set of clothes. When I got to the shelter the receptionist would not even look at me. From that moment on I became her scapegoat.

Each morning she would walk through the dorm with her billy club and rap it on the rungs of my bed. Other times she would report even the slightest thing to management. One time I was downtown and I ran into her and another staff member. They were going to give me a ride but when I got to the car she said “you can’t ride with us” and she slammed the door and took off.

I did not know why I was at the shelter, but I figured there was a reason for me to be there – on a higher level. I did my chores, followed all the rules, cleaned bathrooms, mopped floors, served food and did dishes, made curfew and attended all the meetings that were made available to residents.

The director and rest of the staff liked me and started to give me privileges that they didn’t give to anyone else. They would drive me to and from the college, drive and pick me up from work. I had landed a job at Landstrom’s, which was one of the best places to work. The staff told me I had made an inroad for Native people to be considered for employment there. In addition the staff would let me stay up late in one of their offices, even past 2 or 3 a.m. doing my homework, when the curfew was 10 p.m.

Eventually I learned that the shelter had a program for people who wanted to move into their own unit and would help with the deposit. It was a well-kept secret. The shelter also had an agreement with a real estate company to accept tenants who did not have a long work history in the community or great credit. I moved into a nice apartment in a good area of town and continued to complete my degree at Oglala Lakota College. From there I went on to Black Hills State University.

Later that year I returned to the homeless shelter on an internship for my degree in Human Services. I worked with the Assistant Director in his office. I complied and updated the policy manual. I developed a survey for the residents to assess their experience at the shelter and ways to improve their experience as well as suggestions from them as to what additional services would be helpful. I interviewed veterans concerning their mental health issues and ways to help them adjust to community life.  I drove people to appointments and to look for housing and employment, and attended homeless meetings as an advocate for the Native American population in Rapid City.  I was even able to persuade the director and staff to include our elders with their drum and songs for the Native residents alongside the daily Christian worship service. Though they were reluctant at first I was able to convince them that, first, there were many religions represented at the shelter, not just Christian and all needed to be included. Second, that being homeless was not directly related to not being a Christian. And third, that Native traditions, song and ceremony were not devil worship. Since the shelter was over 90% Lakota, they needed to have representation.

It was quite an experience for someone coming from Hawaii, but it was one of the most rewarding experiences I have had in life as a human. It did take me down a peg or two. I was with people that I ordinarily would not associate with; most smelled and often were not clean; there were obvious mental health issues, but I found the people to be humorous, kind and generous and their perspective on life was much deeper than I had imagined. Though I had been in shelters at least five times before, this particular group of people touched my heart.

No matter what happens in life, show up being you and your best. Be open minded – you are just having an experience and always be willing to give of yourself and learn.

Photo Credit:

San Francisco Homeless by Franco Folini via Flickr Creative Commons. Some rights reserved.

Guest Author Bio

Wilika Matchweta Asimont
Ms. Asimont, sole proprietor Native American Travel Company, MBA, PhD candidate is a survivor of Canada’s First Nations boarding school legacy and foster care system. In her upcoming publication, Ms. Asimont will share her journey to self respect and empowerment. This quest is for all women – she will teach you principles of exploration, introspection, courage, fortitude, endurance, and honesty for inner peace and a delicious soulful journey in this world.

Visit her website, Going Home. Going Home is a soulful journey to self for abused women; who are survivors but continue to be used.

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