By Sarah Patterson
Monday, September 27th
Five nights a week, the distinctive red and black Light Patrol RV cruises the streets and parks of downtown Toronto where homeless youth hang out. Staff and volunteers serve soup, sandwiches, socks, and a whole lot more, to about 30 to 40 people a night. Some have lived on the street for years. Others are "twinkies"— fairweather street-dwellers who come to Toronto for the summer and often have the option of going home.
Tonight I am going to ride in the RV with Karen Robinson, a petite redhead with a ready laugh. She has been working with Youth Unlimited, the working name for Youth for Christ, since January. After overcoming the challenges of raising her own support, she started working fulltime this past summer. She goes out on Light Patrol twice a week, co-ordinates their street arts program, and spends a lot of time visiting on the streets.
6:20 pm
I'm in the parking lot at the Youth Unlimited offices in Toronto, taking a quick picture of the 30-foot RV that is the portable headquarters of Light Patrol, Youth Unlimited's low-key Christian outreach founded in 2002 by Tim Huff of Weston Baptist Church. On the side of the RV is painted this saying: "Better to light a candle than curse the darkness." Karen Robinson and Rick Michielsen, Light Patrol's resource manager, come towards me with a dolly loaded with supplies for the night. Karen is wheeling a green bike. She and Rick strap in onto the rack on the back of the RV.
6:40 pm
Up in the office Karen, Rick, Hilton Yip and I pray for our time downtown. Hilton, a computer science student at Seneca College, is one of 12 regular volunteers who go out with the Light Patrol.
6:50 pm
We take the rest of the food, hot soup, and homemade sandwiches, donated by Toronto churches, out to the RV. The coffee is brewing, there's milk in the fridge, and there are coolers full of drinks.
7:08 pm
Rick takes the helm and we head downtown. Karen drove the RV once. Enough said. A box of books is sliding around. "We have the only library in town where you don't have to return the books," says Karen.
7:25 pm
We're stopped at a red light south of the Skydome. Two homeless youth are camped out below the Gardiner Expressway. They come and get a couple of bologna sandwiches and three bottles of water—one is for their dog. The light changes. We're holding up traffic. Karen has to close the door on their thanks.
7:30 pm
Rick parks the RV near the Skydome. We all start walking to an abandoned community under the Spadina Road bridge. Karen and Rick want to make sure no one is living there again. Three tents, some lean-tos, and a number of sofas and arm chairs make what was a home. No one is there. As far as Karen knows, most of the people have been housed in apartments. This is a big deal.
"It's a vicious circle," says Karen. "You can't get an apartment unless you have proof you can pay for the rent but you can't get welfare without an address." Many homeless youth don't have the social skills to deal with potential landlords and many landlords don't want to take a chance on someone from the streets. Karen describes the typical plight of a couple on welfare. "They don't get a lot and, even though their rent isn't high, there's not always enough money for food. They can only go to food banks so often and some are better than others."
7:44 pm
We park just south of the Ontario College of Art and Design. Almost as soon as Rick opens the doors and drops the steps, people arrive. Hilton starts ladling out soup and handing out sandwiches and tonight's cheese selection, the little red and yellow balls of Babybel. "Kids love real cheese," says Karen. "Some have said, 'There's real cheese in this sandwich.' They can always tell."
7:53 pm
Karen gives blankets to two girls and Hilton finds a band-aid for one of the guys. Georgia and her boyfriend sit on the banquette on the side of the RV. "I didn't know about you guys until two weeks ago," she says. When her boyfriend finds out I'm there to do a story on Karen, he says, "You don't know my name and I wasn't here." They leave with a couple of donated muffins from Starbucks. They'll eat them for breakfast.
8:02 pm
Jerry sits in the driver's seat. There's no other space in the crowded RV. Jerry was housed two months ago after living on the streets for 13 years. He sleeps on the floor of his shared apartment with the windows wide open. Getting used to sleeping in the same place every night has been difficult.
Tomorrow he will meet with his welfare worker to discuss parttime employment. He's afraid that if he rushes into working, he'll stress out and be back on the streets. Eventually Jerry would like to use what he's learned from living on the streets and dealing with different agencies, to improve life for the homeless.
"People don't realize that most of us end up on the streets because of broken homes," he tells me. Jerry went into the care of the Children's Aid Society at the age of 7 after his biological parents' divorce. He was then adopted by a couple who divorced.
8:12 pm
Karen talks to a young woman who just got a free tattoo and then fields a request for deodorant. The RV's stock of personal hygiene supplies is running low. I learn that Youth Unlimited will soon be collecting for Operation Good Thing—packages of new goods that include a sleeping bag, socks, gloves, hat, chocolate bar, and Christmas card. Some packages include personal hygiene items. Up to 350 packages will be distributed through Youth Unlimited and nine other agencies in the city.
8:42 pm
Karen sits down with Carly and Nick, a young couple who rushed to get to the RV before it moved on. They have just started living in an apartment. Carly refrains from eating because they have leftovers waiting at home, but Nick chows down on three sandwiches, a bowl of soup, and three cups of juice. They tell Karen about their day. Carly's confidence had been boosted by her visit with her welfare worker, who praised her intelligence and spirit. She talks about her family and the death of her pet rat. In the middle of the conversation Nick asks for more food. "Can you guys hear me?" We all laugh because he's been given everything he's asked for. But I do wonder how many times he hasn't been heard or even seen.
9:21 pm
Carly is trying on clothes from boxes of donated items and modelling them in an impromptu "fashion show." Karen's laughter rings out. And I wonder, what brought this woman with a middle class, stable family background, a fine arts degree in dance, and a Masters of Divinity from Tyndale in youth and family ministries, to the back of an RV on a dark Toronto street?
"I took a few courses from Rick Tobias [Director of Yonge Street Mission]. He tugged my heart in this direction," Karen says. Watching her interact with the people coming on to the Light Patrol RV, I would say her heart has found its home. Karen admits that it's challenging to be around so much brokenness all the time. She tries hard to keep her life balanced so it won't consume her. Karen credits her church, Yorkminster Park Baptist Church, with helping her maintain that balance. "I'd like to be in ministry for the long run," she says.
9:45 pm
We park at Bay and Grosvenor, locally known as Boystown, where male prostitutes usually wait to be picked up. A couple of policemen on bicycles pass and a patrol car soon follows. No one comes. Rick pulls out a binder and starts recording who we saw tonight, what was given out, what was asked for that we didn't have, and if there were any significant spiritual conversations. "Nancy asked me why God doesn't answer her," says Karen. "I asked her what her question was. She answered 'Why isn't the guy coming with my pot?' But then she said God did answer her other question which was, 'Do you know who I am?' Do you think that counts as a spiritual conversation?" Karen asks with a smile.
10:20 pm
A young guy crosses the street, bounds up the steps, and asks for a bottle of water. The cops are really cracking down tonight, he tells us.
10:30 pm
We stop on University Avenue near the Royal Ontario Museum. We pray for the people we've seen. Karen and Rick get her bike off the back of the RV. She'll head home from here while the rest of us drive back to the office.
Karen was a steady-burning candle tonight. Her smile never wavered, her laughter was never forced, her concern was never faked. Our trip in the dark wasn't threatening or menacing but filled with gratitude and hope. I feel blessed for having just gone along for the ride.
