What Walking Alongside Someone Actually Looks Like

When the System Says No. Again. 

*Charlie walked into our resource day center carrying something heavier than paperwork. He had a letter. An eviction notice. A court date. And a problem that wasn’t his fault.

Someone had hacked his Social Security income. The SSA shut it off pending a fraud investigation, which meant Charlie, a veteran who served this country, suddenly had no money for rent, no money for food, no money for anything. The system designed to protect him had gone quiet at the worst possible moment.

I was the staff member assigned to sit with Charlie that day. So I did what felt right and told him I would go to court with him.

We’ve now been to court three times.

Each time, we’ve asked the hard questions. At our last appearance, we specifically asked: if we can secure the funds, where should Charlie pay his rent? To the court or to the landlord? We were told clearly: pay the landlord.

So Charlie did exactly that. He showed up with a cashier’s check. He showed up with May’s rent. And the landlord refused to accept either.

Now we have a fourth court date coming. And I won’t be there. I’m arranging for a trusted colleague to walk alongside Charlie in my place  because Charlie can’t do this alone. Not because he isn’t capable, but because this process was never designed to be navigated alone.

Charlie said something to me recently that I haven’t been able to shake: “Nothing ever works out for me.”

I’m starting to understand why he feels that way.

This case has taken five hours and twenty minutes of my time, which is time that, on any other day, would go to guests experiencing street or shelter homelessness. I name that not as a complaint, but as a measure of what it actually costs to walk with one person through a system that keeps moving the finish line.

For Charlie, this would have been impossible without someone willing to stay, ask the hard questions, and come back again. That’s not a small thing. That is the thing.

We’re still in it. The story isn’t over. But Charlie deserves for it to be told because he’s not the only one.
*name has been changed for privacy