Colleen Kaleda teaches “Street Roots: Exploring Issues of Homelessness,” a Capstone class at Portland State University.
By Colleen Kaleda
Contributing Writer
I expected to be taught and talked to,” a young woman said. “Instead what I got was raw. And reality. I see a lot more than what I did before.”
“I’m a country bumpkin’,” another student admitted. “I was scared to death of coming down here, to Old Town. Now, I’m still scared, but everything is different after being here, and just talking to people.”
This is just a sampling of what happens when Portland State University students are asked to talk face-to-face with Portland’s homeless as they report, write and photograph stories for Street Roots. It’s all part of my Senior Capstone, “Street Roots: Exploring Issues of Homelessness,” now being offered for the fourth year.
With Street Roots’ generous agreement to partner with me and Portland State University, I created the service-learning class, and over the last three years, it has become one of the most popular (from my enrollment numbers) and challenging (from my students’ evaluations) Capstone courses offered at the university.
I can’t say I know all the reasons why the class has taken off, but I do know that it has the power to evoke positive change. Over a 10-week academic term, students read, discuss, reflect and write, write, write – a lot. It is a journalism-focused class after all. But the truest learning, I believe, comes not from the academic elements, but through service. Completing a Street Roots story, in groups of three, consumes the students in myriad ways.
At the end of the class or after it finishes, only the “best of the best” stories get published in Street Roots, but the experience ends up being more than journalistic skill-building. A handful of journalism students do enroll in the class, but students aspiring to journalism are few and far between anymore. Many are studying sociology, criminal justice, philosophy, or have plans to go into health care fields, business, or law. Lots of them say they took the class because they want a deeper understanding of the root causes of homelessness, or to try to figure out how they can help. Some sign up because it’s required to graduate and the class meeting time fits their schedule. Others hear about it through word-of-mouth from other students.
Socioeconomically, PSU is diverse. I’ve had a few students in my class reveal they have experienced homelessness themselves, either as children or as young adults. One came to class telling me that he had been homeless just a few months before. Many are struggling to make ends meet themselves while they try to finish college. Some realize how close they are right now – a paycheck away – from being on the street.
But most have never experienced life on the street. Many students admit they look away, or feel frightened when they see the homeless. Several wish they could break the stereotypes and fears they know they harbor. On the first day of class, I let the students free-associate words and phrases that come to mind when they hear “homeless,” We list anything that comes to mind on the board. We get the words out there, and look those words directly in the face. We acknowledge that the mainstream media and advertising images (and family and friends and numerous other sources) have shaped our choices of words, telling us what the homeless should look, sound, and act like.
Alcholics. Mentally ill. Drug-addicted. Dirty. Dangerous.
What shatters these stereotypes? Requiring students to read and critique Voices from the Street and another book of their choosing on homelessness definitely helps, but that’s not it. The single-most important stereotype-blaster is getting them out on the street talking directly to members of Portland’s homeless community. I require that every student in the group do face-to-face interviews with those experiencing homelessness -- to ask them how they feel about an issue, or how life on the street simply ‘is:’ what makes life easier, or more difficult, or what they want most.
For some students it takes weeks to muster the courage for their first interview. In groups, it’s a little easier. Yet when it happens, nothing catastrophic occurs. Real people with real stories are usually eager to talk. Once over the hump of that first interview, students’ intimidation disappears. Students, I think, can sense the appreciation that often comes when people who are commonly ignored are asked a question. And I tell them, before they head out by themselves, that many homeless already know Street Roots. They know the newspaper gives a fair and honest voice to those facing poverty in our city. That makes their job easier from the get-go. The result:
“I spend less time worrying about myself, and more time listening to others.”
“I’m looking through a new lens.”
As one student put it, before she actually had to go out on the streets and talk to the homeless, she never fully realized “the humanity of it all.” Making that human-to-human connection puts a lot into focus by the end of the 10-week term.
“I came in with really stereotypical views, and that’s changed phenomenally.”
“I’m a lot more compassionate.”
I firmly believe this isn’t just idle talk to impress their professor before she submits final grades. Here’s proof:
The first year I taught the class, a student told me she found herself gathering clothing from friends and piling it in the trunk of her car, which she then distributed to the homeless.
The second year, after the class was over, a student interned at a juvenile detention center, where his Street Roots reporting for my class gave him a background he wouldn’t have had otherwise. His new job would require interaction with homeless teens at the center. His sincerity in the class (and my recommendation) helped land him the position.
The third year, one young woman announced that she’d “adopted” a family facing poverty for the Christmas holidays, giving them presents and food. She said she wouldn’t have thought of doing it if she hadn’t taken the class.
One particularly thoughtful student came up with the idea to collect donated clothing as a class – which we did -- and I distributed it to Potluck in the Park. It’s a tradition I’ve continued with other classes that followed. A year later, this same student took a homeless woman into her home for a while.
Another student, nine months after finishing the class, contacted me for a recommendation letter to law school. He told me wanted to go into law and help the underprivileged; the Street Roots class had impacted him, he said. After the class, he’d completed an internship at the Social Security office, where he worked for those appealing an initial denial of their benefits, many of whom were homeless. His heart went out to them.
Another student, after the class, chose to apply for a PSU research fellowship – designed for outstanding students from lower-income backgrounds --- and chose homeless issues as her topic.
And one of my best former students – now a professional freelance journalist who writes for The Oregonian – assisted me in editing student rough drafts this past fall. He offered valuable advice on how to write a story that is all-at-once sensitive, impactful and journalistically strong.
The last day of class, I ask students to do the free-association again with the word “homeless”. The words and phrases are different this time.
Stigmatized.
Community.
Ignored.
Needing Help.
One student put his street-journalism experience into poignant words during our final class meeting:
“Learning the truth.”
Isn’t that what Street Roots is all about? I couldn’t have said it better myself.