Editor’s note: The Palm Canyon Paradise’s mission is to provide our readers, both locals and visitors, with a sense of the human and cultural richness of Palm Springs. It’s a beautiful city, on so many levels, and we have no desire to focus on the negative or become bogged down in local politics. But at a recent downtown business meeting, it became apparent there is one issue that is on the forefront of the minds of many residents: homelessness. While business owners are logically concerned with how homelessness impacts their business operations and their customers’ experience, many were also concerned about how to not just get rid of their own problems that stem from homelessness, but how to help and improve the situation for the homeless population of Palm Springs as well. As a result of this meeting and my conversations with business owners and the people in the organizations who are out actively helping those who are homeless, and who are searching for solutions to this complex issue, the Paradise is going to regularly cover homelessness in Palm Springs, while looking for signs of progress and innovative ways to improve conditions for everyone—the homeless, visitors to Palm Springs, and local business owners. During my work in cultural heritage tourism, including 3.5 years as president of the California Deserts Visitors Association, it’s become clear to me that we can’t seperate tourism and the hospitality industry from the issues of the community. That’s why in our other publications we address environmental issues as well as social and economic issues. Ultimately, they impact our businesses, our lifestyle, and the experiences of those who visit us. Many years ago, I covered the story of Ruby, a homeless woman in Palm Springs who had fought to get housing, only to lose it again. Of the awards on my wall, the “Best Achievement Award” she gave me for “friendship,” is the most meaningful. I have no idea if Ruby is still alive today, but I’d like to see the Paradise be supportive for those like Ruby. – Steve Brown
It’s a fairly nondescript office building, off of main thoroughfares, with empty lots on either side and a business property directly behind it that’s vacant. Inside, the interior is basic but functional, and it’s now home to Well in the Desert’s new cooling and drop-in center for the homeless in Palm Springs.
Well in the Desert has been serving the homeless populations of the Palm Springs area for years, often moving its locations due to pressure by some in the community. Recently, the Well had given up its facility and gone mobile, its vans bringing everything from toiletries to showers to those on the street.
“It left us homeless,” Arlene Rosenthal, president of Well in the Desert, explained to me inside their new facility. “We went into this mode of being mobile, we said we are the mobile Well. Everybody became part of outreach. Every single day in the churches we have all the forms, we have bus passes, we have all those things needed for people. We have referrals, clothing, we have mobile showers.”
Like many urban areas, homelessness is a serious problem for Palm Springs, and there are no simple solutions. The city council vote that granted the permit for Well in the Desert to go ahead with this center was three to two, with Mayor Rob Moon and council member Chris Mills voting against it. Their stated rationale for their opposition was it is near a housing complex, restaurants, and a hotel. But if a homeless facility can’t be placed within sight of housing, dining, or lodging facilities in Palm Springs, where could one be located? The answer seems clear: Desert Hot Springs or Cathedral City.
But seriously, that seems to often be the problem when addressing issues around homelessness. Nobody wants the homeless. Anywhere. But yet, these human beings nobody wants, logically are going to be somewhere, and being without a permanent home does not mean they do not have need of a place to sleep, or a need to eat, drink, or use a toilet. While a frequent approach to the problem seems to be if you deny them a place to sleep, or a place to eat, drink, or use the toilet, they’ll just magically go away.
But ask business owners in Palm Springs, and they’ll tell you the homeless don’t vanish—instead they may use a business parking lot as an impromptu bathroom. That’s unacceptable, but if there aren’t acceptable alternatives, it is likely there will always be unacceptable ones. Everyone urinates. Everyone defecates. Even the homeless, and by definition, it should be understood that their lack of a home also includes a serious lack of a bathroom and all that entails.
For many people, discussing the homeless seems to be a matter of talking about an abstraction, not real people. But those who work with the homeless through organizations like Well in the Desert and Street Life Project understand very well that the homeless are quite real, with real needs, problems, and flaws, as well as real humanity, qualities, and potential.
“I wrote an article for our newsletter one time called ‘Heiress to Homeless,’ and it was about one of my close friends from UCLA who was an heiress who was to inherit a fortune,” Rosenthal told me amidst the bustle of preparing to open the Well’s new center. “She ended up homeless. She ended up on drugs. It was because of her marriage and everything. We don’t know. what will happen to us. We don’t.”
Rosenthal’s comments reminded me of my first real homeless encounter, working at an overnight drop-in center for the homeless in Portland. My best friend from college (who remains my best friend to this day), the son of a Presbyterian minister, had urged me to join him for a night of handing out sandwiches and coffee, and the occasional hotel voucher for families. It was around 3 a.m. when we were discussing the origins of Sanskrit with a homeless professor and others in the center that I decided the stereotypes weren’t going to cut it any more.
Homelessness is a complex issue, with very few “perfect” solutions, and much of the heavy lifting to address the issue is left to volunteers, nonprofit organizations, and churches. In addition to the dedicated nonprofits, it’s reassuring to see Palm Springs churches—First Baptist Church, Church of St. Paul in the Desert, Our Lady of Solitude, and Our Lady of Guadalupe—all join in to help host meals and other aspects of the Well’s programs, while other churches across the Coachella Valley, like St. George Greek Orthodox Church in Palm Desert, organize collections and donations to help the organizations helping those on the street.
As Arlene and I talked, she pointed out that most of those working around us to prepare the center for its opening, are either clients of the Well, or former clients who had endured homelessness and life on the streets themselves, and who are now helping others. They were working hard, and it was getting hotter by the minute.
“Everyone you see of our staff has either been homeless or addicted or alcoholic, had mental problems, and has helped themselves, and gotten help from the Well,” she told me. “We give chances. That’s what it’s all about. It changes you. It’s life transforming, it really is.” Rosenthal is realistic about the challenges of working with, and for, those who sometimes come with some very heavy baggage.
“I’ve been called every name under the sun,” she said. “I’ve had coffee thrown at me by clients who were out of it. Sometimes it was my fault. They reacted, rather than having kindness and understanding.
I asked her about the coffee throwing incident, and she was matter of fact about it.
“I was drenched. I found me some of our used clothes and put them on. Later on he apologized, but he’s not a well man.”
That seems to be a good example of Rosenthal’s approach toward working with the homeless. Some days, someone is going to throw coffee on you, so you just change clothes and keep going. It’s a positive “can-do” attitude that’s well grounded in reality.
“ I think if anything, being involved with the Well and all the people I’ve met, has created for me a humility and a different attitude. It’s changed me in a lot of good ways.” As for the new center that has just opened, it may not be a glamorous building, but it sounds as if it will be put to a good use. “This allows us, we’ll have tables that can house 20 in there, we can go up to 38,” she said. “They’ll come in the back door and get coffee and sweet rolls and fruit, cold water, a towel, take a shower. They’ll get clean clothes.
“We’ll take them in the shuttle to the church sites. But they’ll come in here, get a shower, some clean clothes. They don’t need to stay in here all day, and they won’t. They’ll be able to watch TV, and we have books. They like to read. We will have games. They’ll socialize, they’ll be normal.”
Looking at the work those around us are doing, she burst out, “Can you imagine if the community used people like this? Gave them a reason? A meaning? A connection? These guys work hard. Let them have something productive to do.”
When I asked her if the new center is going to be a problem for the community, she initially responded with just a simple “No.”
“We’re not going to let them be a problem. We’re going to work with them. They [business owners] need to step up to the plate too. They need to try to listen and understand where they can be effective, where we can help them be effective. They need to clean up their properties. They need to get security. They need to help the situation.
“Some of these business people, how they can feel the way they feel about these people, I don’t understand. I’m a product of the Holocaust. I grew up knowing we lost our family on my father’s side. I grew up pinching myself, saying ‘Jew, Jew, Jewish.” Because I could not understand the magnitude of hate.”
Overall though, Rosenthal said Well in the Desert enjoys strong community support. She noted that those the Well works with, like the churches who host meals and other services, are invaluable. The fears the community has about the Well’s new facility are ungrounded, Rosenthal said.
“I can’t think of anything to be afraid of. I’m not afraid. My Dad taught me not to be afraid. He taught me to confront the issue, be straightforward and honest. It works for me.
“I knew a professor who was from France, and he was homeless, and he told me about his life. I knew one of the top attorneys in either Dallas or Houston, he was well known. He lived a terrible life here as a homeless person. We rescued him at the end of his life so he could die with dignity, but he had a divorce, lost his wife which he thought was the rest of his life, became an alcoholic, and... it happens to people. I still don’t understand how people don’t even have a desire to have an understanding to know why people are homeless.”
Rosenthal’s message is clear. The homeless aren’t a distant abstract problem society can wish away. They’re just folks like you and I, deserving of dignity and respect that we’re supposed to provide for our fellow human beings. Are they always easy to deal with? No. But things don’t get easier if we don’t seek realistic ways to address them. This facility is one more step in the right direction.
The new cooling and drop-in center at 441 S. Calle Encelia opened with 25 people arriving by 8:30 a.m. The need is clear, the step was taken. But there’s still a long way to go.
