Improvisation Works (November 2016)
by Wanda Sabir

Wednesday evening Kheven and I went out to remind the residents of the encampment on Wood Street that there was a Thanksgiving meal planned for the following morning. The road was quiet and we only ran into one person who took fliers to share with his neighbors. Perhaps this was a foreshadowing of the next day where the volunteers outnumbered the internally displaced citizens, who didn’t realize until much later into the day that the fancy tents, and all the good smells and gaiety were for them. Surprisingly, only a few people took showers, not enough, considering the hot water, plush towels and new clothes were an opportunity to get spruced up, try on another life for a moment, pretend things were different, but perhaps such daydreams are too costly. Rotisserie chickens turning on the spits, juices dripping into a tray covered in bread crumbs – the aroma caused many stomachs to start singing. Designer cupcakes sat on the table next to the main course while volunteer waiters stood ready to seat guests and take their orders. 

Well-organized with good intentions, the plan seemed perfect.  Volunteers traveled from as far away as Hercules, Sacramento and San Ramon. The ages ranged from 3-4 to perhaps 60. Entire families were out with youth having spent time getting donations of clothing and other supplies for the Thanksgiving program. 

It was great to see the Medical team with Roots Clinic out. They parked their van and spent some time with residents who needed assistance and resources. This is a component of services I have been unable to offer monthly to those who come to the breakfast, we usually have available lists with shelter locations and other services; however, to have a doctor present who can check a person’s blood pressure or a provide number of other services is so necessary.  In August, we had a public health nurse join us.  

I often find people just want to talk, so I might find myself having several long conversations as people eat their meals. I remember having a great conversation with a young man one Sunday. He’d just gotten out of the hospital. Something was wrong with his leg.  I offered to get him a chair to sit in and another to prop his wounded leg up.  We used to have tables and chairs so people could sit down and enjoy their meal. The volunteer who provided the chairs and tables got a job on Sundays and does not join us anymore. This is what was nice about Thanksgiving today, the relaxed air. Neighbors sharing with neighbors. People came early and stayed late—7 to 4. 

Desley’s team with Phil Tagomi at the helm thought of everything, car insurance for those of use driving the vans. Security for the site. A superb DJ whose selections kept the vibe hyped and fun loving. The entire day’s plan was well-oiled and well-thought out. An important missing element was a conversation with the communities to be served. I think it is always good to talk to a person and not assume we know what is best. To live in a tent or choose to live outdoors is a choice we have to respect, regardless of alternative options for some, not all, in these circumstances. To respect these choices is a first step in any conversation, the second is given the harsh environment is asking the questions: what do you need? How can I help?  I often add suggestions to the answers to these questions, just in case the person I am speaking to has not considered all his or her options. Robert and I spoke each month, often more than once about the community and how he saw it developing and how he wanted it to grow. The two were not always the same. He is no longer at the encampment on 35^th and Peralta. I hope he is well. I also do not see Lionel anymore. I hope he is well too. Last year, his wife died. 

Before the encampment was given immunity, we’d meet people who did not live at the encampment but they would be riding by on bikes or walking by and have breakfast with us. At one time there were two separate groups along the three sidewalks. There was an older black woman with a walker and a few older men who were in and out. I hope they are housed now. 

The sanctioned encampment is such a different world, like the Cosby sitcom infers. I think there are 28 tents, I don’t know how many people.

Desley Brooks, City Council person for District 6 in East Oakland, joined The Auset Movement October 30 with her sister Darlene to help with breakfast that stormy Sunday morning. It was a good thing that Wanda and Tabaji owned a patio cover which we set up to serve from. It was the perfect size and by the time we got it up and the rain started pouring, there was enough room for hungry guests to stand under as we fixed coffee, poured juice, and handed out plates of home cooked food. By 9-9:30 a.m. everyone was served, but we had more plates, so we filled our cars with these plates and drove up the street to see if anyone wanted breakfast—the entire encampment had been cleared out. It was as if the people we’d come to care about over the past 10 months had never been there. 

On Thanksgiving though, a few of the folks we’d wondered about showed up. Jamie used the free phone service provided by Cricket to call her father and wish him a Happy Thanksgiving. Others used this service to make contact with loved ones. When I saw Jamie she was getting her hair styled and cut. John had just vacated his seat when Mr. Lee sat down to have his hair and beard trimmed. 

Both Jamie and Mr. Lee looked fantastic after their trips to the salon. John looked like a new man. He said, he didn’t need to look in the mirror to know who was there. As I watched Jamie and Mr. Lee get their hair styled next, I caught up on the neighborhood news with Jamie regarding all the people displaced the previous month. She’d had to move more than once. Later I saw Darlene up the street, with women in three other tents. I dropped off warm comforters with two of them. I didn’t have any tarps, but will bring some when I return next month. 

In the van earlier, we drove across town to the encampment under the freeway on E-23^rd and 12^th Avenue. There were about 20 people there, but no one wanted to leave his belongings to come to Wood Street. It was the same story at Lafayette Park, even though more than one man said the showers would have been welcome. 

We will have to figure out the shower-thing.  Maybe the shower bus from San Francisco will travel to the East Bay. Mr. Lee said he gives residents along Wood Street haircuts, so the opportunity to chill and get a spa treatment was welcomed. He even had alcohol wipes in his pocket which he pulled out to wipe along his hairline when the stylist said she didn’t have her own. I don’t know why with the clean clothes, fresh towels and hot water, more people didn’t want to take a shower. Maybe it was the lack of privacy, maybe people didn’t like the locker room-type set up. Maybe we need to look into self-contained showers that can travel. I don’t know what the shower bus looks like.  

From the beginning, when The Auset Movement started serving meals, we met with the constituents and asked them what they needed and showed up each month or sooner with these items whether it was men’s underwear, long underwear or women’s jewelry. We made Mother’s Day cards for the ladies on Mother’s Day and the same for the men on Father’s Day. We had candy for Halloween and we’ll have some kind of wrapped present for Christmas. I am thinking that people might like magazines to read and books. I will take a few titles and see.  Canned goods, peanut butter, bleach, sturdy large garbage bags, tarps, water, toilet tissue, flashlights with batteries, socks, blankets, and pillows are always needed. Sometimes people need tents. We usually buy those in a case by case basis. Now umbrellas, rain ponchos, rain boots are needed. It is hard to stay dry when the weather is wet and storming. People are constantly getting drenched. 

Maven who lives on Wood Street said she’d like to get building tools and have classes for women so they could learn to build homes. She is building a house from windows. Her loft collapsed recently. Blonde with a pretty smile, Maven and other Wood Street residents came with a nice vibe to the Thanksgiving dinner. They are a really nice community of folks whose neighborhood has kind of exploded, yet they are trying to manage with the new folks who don’t always seem to want to join the established community mores. Mr. Lee mentioned their residential relationship with businesses across the street from them. 

Wood Street even have a community kitchen, Mr. Lee cooks for the block. 

Desley asked us to drive around again and tell the people at the encampments that we would watch their belongings if they wanted to check out the meal and amenities on Wood Street.  Try as we might, we were politely thanked with no thanks.  At each stop, we met others out serving meals and sharing love with those without roofs over their heads.  We went to 35^th and Peralta, the City of Oakland’s model encampment (it is also the first encampment The Auset Movement adopted). There was a church inside serving hot turkey with dressing; we then went by the Greyhound Bus Station on San Pablo and West Grand. No one wanted to leave there possessions to travel with strangers such a distance. We also saw people pull up with dinners as we stood there and watched. 

When we returned volunteers were taking plates and backpacks and bags with toiletries, hats, gloves, a blanket and socks to the various encampments we had been unsuccessful in tempting to travel with us to the Wood Street site. The volunteers returned with stories of racing other philanthropists to try to get their plate into the hands of a homeless person before the other did. I remember when we used to serve the folks on 35^th and Peralta, Robert would have a lot of compassion for those staying on Wood Street, because there was no protection from the elements. Last year during the rainy season, the storm would wash their homes away or drown them out. It is still pretty bad now where some of them have relocated on unpaved land off the side of the road. 

Striking the camp was just as well-coordinated as the set up. We could tell these were professionals. There was a lot to take apart and it was taken apart and loaded onto trucks quickly. Impressed, I got into my car and took my leave. It was a good day, a successful day . . . all the clothes were given away, all 100 backpacks, all the socks, all the towels, blankets, hats, coats, shirts, pants . . .  300 dinners—given away.  Much of the success was the volunteers’ flexibility when Muhammad did not come to the mountain. They took the mountain to the people.  Yes, it was a good day, I thought as I drove around the corner to drop off the blankets to Darlene and then headed for Whole Foods to get dinner.