Winter visits Denver early...

... And one of my clients made a snowman. Note the cigarette and stylish tobacco leaf tie.

My Job

Well this is long overdue, as are most of my blog posts. I could pretend I do this to try to build the anticipation, to make you all wonder what's going on. When I last left you all I talked about leaving good friends and followed with a sloppy post of photos of the new place in Denver. It's thrilling right?

The Harm Reduction Action Center- "The Little Red House"

Sadly that's not the truth, the truth is my absence is a mixture of being super busy getting used to a new job/ a new city/ new friends/ new roommates and a bit of me just being a bit lazy.

I'm pretty fascinated by my new job so this post shall be concerning where I work.

This year I am working as a full time volunteer at the Harm Reduction Action Center (HRAC). This agency, located in a tiny red house on the west side of Denver, is truly a magical place for clients and staff alike. We have a community of people working together to improve their lives and lives of others. We share tears, meals (most of which are prepared by me), and a great amount of joy. The HRAC provides a community to a population of people that often do not have one, who have been cast out of their old communities and left on their own.

"So is this another gig at a homeless shelter?", you may be asking yourselves.

Nope.

The HRAC serves active injection drug users (IDU's) and works towards educating them on how to lead healthier lifestyles. We don't push people to get clean, we follow the strategy of Harm Reduction, which is meeting people where they are at. While we function as a day shelter by providing showers, laundry, and lunch to our clients; we are, at our core, a health agency. HRAC teaches classes on how to be safe while shooting drugs (not sharing syringes, using clean supplies) and how to avoid teaching this addictive habit to others. While we are conditionally approved to be a syringe exchange we are not yet able to give away needles but we have the other basic supplies that an IDU needs in order to be safe.

I admit that the concept of Harm Reduction was tough to understand at first, I mean, why not just push people to get clean? Tough love, right? Right?

HRAC memorial to clients who have died of overdose over the years.

But I see my clients and I understand it. A lot of them lead tough lives, many of them are homeless. They have been pushed aside and already left for dead by this country. But just because they are addicted to drugs doesn't mean they should not have a  home, that they should not have a job, that they should be without a voice. These are beautiful people who are flawed just like the rest of us, it is just that when you are homeless and suffering a painful addiction it is a lot harder for them to hide their rougher side.

I've only been at the HRAC for two months but I already feel that I am part of a family. A crazy household where all the relatives are always stopping by. To sum it up, it's like the show "Full House", if everyone was shooting up heroin. People's faces light up when they walk in and see my coworker's smiling faces.

We hold classes and have lunch in this small space.

I'm sure that some of you think I have an intimidating job or that I must be brave to do this. It really isn't that scary, people are people and everyone deserves a helping hand. Clients help me prepare meals and clean the dishes and I savor the moments where I can just sit back with them and enjoy a good chat.

One of the clients always says to me "You'll meet some real characters around here. Some of them are just plain crazy. I'm one of them."

I love my job. I love helping these people. I love being in this unique community that has formed in the little red house on the corner of 8th and Lipan.

Click here to visit the Harm Reduction Action Center's website (And donate money, perhaps?)


“No one is useless in the world who lightens the burden of it for anyone else.”                 
                         
                                                                     -Charles Dickens