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Cleaning house: Leonard Gunter asks his grandmother, MaryAnn Hakes, if she wants to keep the magazine as he cleans her Roseburg apartment. Gunter, 20, has been without a stable home since he was 16 and had been staying with his grandmother and helping her with chores to earn money.
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ENLARGE
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Job hunt: Leonard Gunter walks out of the Dollar Tree Store in the Garden Valley Shopping Center with an application as he walks the mall getting applications recently. Gunter eventually was hired by Dell last week and will start training this week.
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ENLARGE
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Laundry chores: With dirty laundry and detergent in tow, Leonard Gunter heads to the laundry room in the Roseburg transitional housing building where his grandmother lives. Gunter, who has not had a stable home since he was 16, is able to stay with his grandmother temporarily and helps with chores to earn money.
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Leonard Gunter of Roseburg woke up dazed, exhausted and aching.
His head throbbed, his mouth was parched and he had no clue where he was.
He had passed out for three days following a two-week methamphetamine binge, during which he never slept.
“I felt like I’d been hit by a train,” he said.
Nearly two years before, when he was 16, he’d left home because the constant arguments with his mother became intolerable. He’d been without a stable home ever since.
At 17, the pressures of homelessness, the loneliness, the judgmental classmates, wore him down.
He found a group of youth who didn’t judge — the “stoners” who shared his same sense of low self-esteem, who looked to each other and drugs to escape. He dropped out of school.
But once the effects of that final binge began to wear off, Gunter knew he needed to change.
“I knew that if I didn’t stop, I’d end up in a gutter, dead somewhere,” said Gunter, now 20.
Gunter is not the only young person who has found himself essentially living on the streets of Douglas County. Some teens — male and female — leave home because they are being abused, some because their parents are raging alcoholics. Others are pushed out because large families can no longer afford to care for the older children. Some just don’t get along with their folks.
Local advocates estimate Gunter is among as many as 500 homeless youth around the ages of 15 to 20 years old sleeping in cars, camping out at parks or crashing on friends’ couches countywide.
Now, advocates are banning together to find a solution, to encourage the community to step in and fill the voids left behind when families fall to pieces.
<b>LOCAL MOVEMENT</b>
Harry Mullins, resource development officer at Phoenix School in Roseburg, talks with homeless youth on a regular basis. But that’s not why he knows how it feels to be a young person hiding in the shadows of a community.
As a teenager, Mullins found himself living on the streets after his parents divorced. He turned to petty crime, slept where he could.
“Pretty similar to what kids do today,” he said.
His head throbbed, his mouth was parched and he had no clue where he was.
He had passed out for three days following a two-week methamphetamine binge, during which he never slept.
“I felt like I’d been hit by a train,” he said.
Nearly two years before, when he was 16, he’d left home because the constant arguments with his mother became intolerable. He’d been without a stable home ever since.
At 17, the pressures of homelessness, the loneliness, the judgmental classmates, wore him down.
He found a group of youth who didn’t judge — the “stoners” who shared his same sense of low self-esteem, who looked to each other and drugs to escape. He dropped out of school.
But once the effects of that final binge began to wear off, Gunter knew he needed to change.
“I knew that if I didn’t stop, I’d end up in a gutter, dead somewhere,” said Gunter, now 20.
Gunter is not the only young person who has found himself essentially living on the streets of Douglas County. Some teens — male and female — leave home because they are being abused, some because their parents are raging alcoholics. Others are pushed out because large families can no longer afford to care for the older children. Some just don’t get along with their folks.
Local advocates estimate Gunter is among as many as 500 homeless youth around the ages of 15 to 20 years old sleeping in cars, camping out at parks or crashing on friends’ couches countywide.
Now, advocates are banning together to find a solution, to encourage the community to step in and fill the voids left behind when families fall to pieces.
<b>LOCAL MOVEMENT</b>
Harry Mullins, resource development officer at Phoenix School in Roseburg, talks with homeless youth on a regular basis. But that’s not why he knows how it feels to be a young person hiding in the shadows of a community.
As a teenager, Mullins found himself living on the streets after his parents divorced. He turned to petty crime, slept where he could.
“Pretty similar to what kids do today,” he said.
Mullins is now partnering with other local advocates to spread the word about homeless youth and children. He’ll facilitate a summit — sponsored by the League of Women Voters of the Umpqua Valley, the Douglas County Commission on Children and Families and Organizational Excellence — Oct. 7 to do just that.
Legislation this summer put responsibility for homeless youth and children in the hands of the state Commission on Children and Families and its county branches, although no additional funding was granted.
The commissions are charged with examining the issue, its causes, characteristics and possible preventive measures and solutions.
Representatives will find ways to get other agencies to work together more efficiently to address the problem.
The October summit will help get the process going, as will an Oregon State University study under way to help get an accurate count of homeless youth in Douglas County. Hard numbers and solid ideas will make it easier for the commission to call for more funding in the next legislative session.
“Hopefully, there will be more resources available,” said Gillian Wesenberg, executive director of the local commission.
Currently, the best estimate the community has of this population is provided by the local League of Women Voters.
While definitions of homeless youth vary, the league estimates that between 200 and 500 youth are living without oversight of parents or other guardians. The study has inspired the state’s other leagues to take up the initiative, which will eventually lead to a combined call for the government to make changes.
“Our community needs to ask itself, ‘Are these indeed our children?’” said Linda Clary, a league member.
<b>LOST IN A MAZE</b>
For youth whose minds are still developing, fending for themselves in a social service world full of red tape can be a daunting task.
Legislation this summer put responsibility for homeless youth and children in the hands of the state Commission on Children and Families and its county branches, although no additional funding was granted.
The commissions are charged with examining the issue, its causes, characteristics and possible preventive measures and solutions.
Representatives will find ways to get other agencies to work together more efficiently to address the problem.
The October summit will help get the process going, as will an Oregon State University study under way to help get an accurate count of homeless youth in Douglas County. Hard numbers and solid ideas will make it easier for the commission to call for more funding in the next legislative session.
“Hopefully, there will be more resources available,” said Gillian Wesenberg, executive director of the local commission.
Currently, the best estimate the community has of this population is provided by the local League of Women Voters.
While definitions of homeless youth vary, the league estimates that between 200 and 500 youth are living without oversight of parents or other guardians. The study has inspired the state’s other leagues to take up the initiative, which will eventually lead to a combined call for the government to make changes.
“Our community needs to ask itself, ‘Are these indeed our children?’” said Linda Clary, a league member.
<b>LOST IN A MAZE</b>
For youth whose minds are still developing, fending for themselves in a social service world full of red tape can be a daunting task.
“We expect all of these things from these kids, but where are they really at (developmentally),” Wesenberg said.
Without an adult with them, certain services can be hard to come by. Nineteen-year-old Tiffany Easterly of Roseburg remembers the frustrations she faced when she left home at 15. She felt unwelcome and lost in the social service maze.
“Nobody will want to give any kid anything if they’re homeless without a parent’s consent,” she said.
At the Roseburg Rescue Mission, for example, minors aren’t allowed to eat on-site without parents because of liability reasons, although the organization can provide them with food boxes if they have identification. Minors are also prohibited from staying at the shelter.
The state Department of Human Services can be especially foreboding. Youth who are abused should contact the Child Welfare Program, but then, some might be wary of ending up in foster care.
Those who are looking for self-sufficiency services must wade through a sea of eligibility requirements.
As a minor, Gunter was covered by his mother’s Oregon Health Plan eligibility. But he also fell under the umbrella of her food stamps program, so he couldn’t apply for his own. Instead, he had to depend on the generosity of those he’d stay with from time to time for meals.
Now no longer a minor, he can get his own food stamps, but stricter OHP requirements have left him without health insurance.
“How do they expect you to pay for a doctor’s bill?” he said.
At least one adult these youth should be able to count on is their school district’s homeless youth liaison. The McKinney-Vento Homeless Assistance Act gives all children the right to attend school and have access to all school programs, from lunches to extra-curricular activities. Each district has a liaison who can provide guidance to local services.
That’s how Gunter eventually found Casa de Belen, Roseburg’s transitional housing facility for youth and their families. He encourages those in need to contact their school liaisons, or any caring adult, so they don’t suffer in silence.
Easterly, a single mother with two young children, was able to seek help at Safe Haven Maternity Home in Roseburg for a while. She’s gotten her own apartment, finished high school and moved on to college. But the not-so-distant memories of “couch surfing” as a pregnant teen stick with her.
She’s been helping with the upcoming summit and the Oregon State University research project, sharing her experiences to help advocates learn how to better serve others like her.
“I know a lot of homeless kids,” she said.
<b>FILLING IN THE CRACKS
</b>This week, Gunter plans to pack up his few belongings and move into Casa de Belen.
Without an adult with them, certain services can be hard to come by. Nineteen-year-old Tiffany Easterly of Roseburg remembers the frustrations she faced when she left home at 15. She felt unwelcome and lost in the social service maze.
“Nobody will want to give any kid anything if they’re homeless without a parent’s consent,” she said.
At the Roseburg Rescue Mission, for example, minors aren’t allowed to eat on-site without parents because of liability reasons, although the organization can provide them with food boxes if they have identification. Minors are also prohibited from staying at the shelter.
The state Department of Human Services can be especially foreboding. Youth who are abused should contact the Child Welfare Program, but then, some might be wary of ending up in foster care.
Those who are looking for self-sufficiency services must wade through a sea of eligibility requirements.
As a minor, Gunter was covered by his mother’s Oregon Health Plan eligibility. But he also fell under the umbrella of her food stamps program, so he couldn’t apply for his own. Instead, he had to depend on the generosity of those he’d stay with from time to time for meals.
Now no longer a minor, he can get his own food stamps, but stricter OHP requirements have left him without health insurance.
“How do they expect you to pay for a doctor’s bill?” he said.
At least one adult these youth should be able to count on is their school district’s homeless youth liaison. The McKinney-Vento Homeless Assistance Act gives all children the right to attend school and have access to all school programs, from lunches to extra-curricular activities. Each district has a liaison who can provide guidance to local services.
That’s how Gunter eventually found Casa de Belen, Roseburg’s transitional housing facility for youth and their families. He encourages those in need to contact their school liaisons, or any caring adult, so they don’t suffer in silence.
Easterly, a single mother with two young children, was able to seek help at Safe Haven Maternity Home in Roseburg for a while. She’s gotten her own apartment, finished high school and moved on to college. But the not-so-distant memories of “couch surfing” as a pregnant teen stick with her.
She’s been helping with the upcoming summit and the Oregon State University research project, sharing her experiences to help advocates learn how to better serve others like her.
“I know a lot of homeless kids,” she said.
<b>FILLING IN THE CRACKS
</b>This week, Gunter plans to pack up his few belongings and move into Casa de Belen.
DISCUSSING HOMELESS YOUTH
<b>SEPT. 20
WHAT:</b> Douglas County Commission on Children and Families meeting <b></b>WHY: Panel discussion on homeless and runaway youth in Douglas County <b>WHERE:</b> Douglas Education Service District, 1871 N.E. Stephens St. in Roseburg <b>WHEN:</b> 5:30 p.m. Tuesday <b>INFORMATION:</b> 957-4622 <b>OCT. 7</b> <b>WHAT:</b> Invisible Youth Community Summit: Homeless and Runaway Youth <b>WHERE:</b> Douglas County Fairgrounds <b>WHEN:</b> 8:30 a.m. to 4 p.m. Oct. 7 <b>WHY:</b> To provide homeless youth advocates and community members the chance to learn more about the homeless youth situation in Douglas County. <b>REGISTRATION:</b> Prior to Sept. 30: $30; after Sept. 30: $40; Umpqua Community College continuing education credit is available at different rates; high school students and homeless youth are free <b>INFORMATION:</b> 957-4622 |
He’s been there before, but moved out to take a job in Klamath Falls. When that fell through, he moved in with his grandmother, but she lives in a transitional apartment complex for veterans and Gunter’s stays are limited.
Casa’s goal is to help families and youth work toward self-sufficiency while providing them with shelter, but its funding is always stretched. It’s one of the programs advocates say is necessary to help put an end to homelessness among youth.
“We have Casa de Belen,” Wesenberg said, “but what can we add to that that wouldn’t cost a lot of money?”
Many would like to see an emergency shelter, where all teens could seek temporary refuge and get plugged into services. Although the Douglas County Juvenile Department includes a shelter-type facility for youth who have committed minor crimes, those waiting for foster care placement and those declared runaways who get picked up by police, it’s not a place people can choose to stay for a free roof over their heads.
For the most part, advocates believe the foundation for curing homelessness already exists in Douglas County’s array of social programs, but more coordination is needed.
Gunter has been helping with the local movement, as officials realize the best sources of information are the youths themselves.
Gunter’s relationship with his mother is on the mend, although a packed house keeps him from moving back home. He was hired this week for a position at Dell, Inc., and he’s working toward his diploma at the Woolley Center with dreams of studying computer science in college.
But it’s taken him four years to get to this point and he doesn’t want to see others endure the same trials he faced.
“Especially not teens that still have their whole lives ahead of them,” he said.
• You can reach reporter Chelsea Duncan at 957-4246 or by e-mail at cduncan@newsreview.info.
Casa’s goal is to help families and youth work toward self-sufficiency while providing them with shelter, but its funding is always stretched. It’s one of the programs advocates say is necessary to help put an end to homelessness among youth.
“We have Casa de Belen,” Wesenberg said, “but what can we add to that that wouldn’t cost a lot of money?”
Many would like to see an emergency shelter, where all teens could seek temporary refuge and get plugged into services. Although the Douglas County Juvenile Department includes a shelter-type facility for youth who have committed minor crimes, those waiting for foster care placement and those declared runaways who get picked up by police, it’s not a place people can choose to stay for a free roof over their heads.
For the most part, advocates believe the foundation for curing homelessness already exists in Douglas County’s array of social programs, but more coordination is needed.
Gunter has been helping with the local movement, as officials realize the best sources of information are the youths themselves.
Gunter’s relationship with his mother is on the mend, although a packed house keeps him from moving back home. He was hired this week for a position at Dell, Inc., and he’s working toward his diploma at the Woolley Center with dreams of studying computer science in college.
But it’s taken him four years to get to this point and he doesn’t want to see others endure the same trials he faced.
“Especially not teens that still have their whole lives ahead of them,” he said.
• You can reach reporter Chelsea Duncan at 957-4246 or by e-mail at cduncan@newsreview.info.
