I am writing to share my perspective on the issue of homelessness, a perspective deeply informed by my own lived experiences.
For too long, the conversation surrounding our unhoused neighbours has been dominated by policy and statistics, often overlooking the fundamental human element and the power of simple kindness.
I know what it is to be without a home, without a job and in the grip of addiction. Before my service in Afghanistan, I faced the demoralizing reality of joblessness, a hardship compounded by the colour of my skin. That led to a period of homelessness, a time marked by vulnerability and despair.
Later, after returning from the war, the invisible wounds of conflict led me down the path of addiction.
It was not government programs or the harsh hand of "tough love" that pulled me from those depths, it was the unwavering compassion of others. Kind individuals in my community offered me shelter and support during my initial period of homelessness, providing a lifeline when I had nowhere else to turn. Later, it was the compassionate care of nurses and doctors who patiently guided me through the arduous journey of overcoming addiction. Their empathy and understanding were the catalysts for my healing.
Based on my own journey, and my continued involvement in assisting the unhoused here in our community, I see significant flaws in our current approach. One glaring issue is the lack of practical support, particularly in areas like transportation.
Expecting individuals struggling with addiction to independently navigate travel to distant detox centres in Kamloops and then onward to the coast for treatment demonstrates a profound disconnect from their reality. How can someone battling withdrawal and instability be expected to overcome such logistical hurdles?
My commitment to helping others facing similar struggles has led me to take direct action. I have personally assisted unhoused individuals with the often-complex process of filing tax returns to access disability benefits. I have also made the difficult decision to pay for dental care for individuals before they enter treatment. This may seem unusual, but my reasoning is simple—once in treatment, access to pain medication for dental issues is often limited.
Addressing those needs beforehand removes a significant barrier to their comfort and focus on recovery.
To date, I have spent approximately $123,000 of my own money on those efforts. I am not a wealthy man. I am a veteran living on a pension. I share this not for recognition but to illustrate the profound need that exists and the limitations of our current systems.
My experiences have taught me the most effective antidote to homelessness, joblessness and addiction are not punitive measures or bureaucratic hurdles but genuine human kindness and practical support.
We need to shift our focus from judgment to understanding, from policy alone to person-centered care.
Let us remember that behind every statistic is a human being with their own unique story, their own struggles and their own potential for recovery.
Let us embrace compassion as the guiding principle in our efforts to support our unhoused neighbours, offering them the same hand up that was so instrumental in my own journey.
Raymond Shipmaker, Kelowna