Life Of An Outreach Worker

I walked out of my office today, and went to my car. I literally said out loud,” It’s too cold to be doing outreach.” I immediately thought about my clients living outside, and having nowhere to go. THEY, must be freezing. So off I went…

I have worked in mental health my entire life. That translates to 39 years in the helping profession. Many like to do volunteer work around this time of year. I am often asked by volunteers if they can join my Rapid Response Team. We answer the hard calls from Hospitals, Health Departments, Human Service Agencies, Drug Treatment Facilities, Law Enforcement Agencies, and Prisons. So, you want to be an outreach worker?

Here is the truth about doing outreach with the homelessness population. Give up the idea that you can help them. You can’t. You can only be there for them. They have to do the work. And you better surround yourself with talented, passionate people. Because outreach…it is not a pretty story.

This is what you can expect doing homeless outreach. You are going to lose far more people than help. You need a high street IQ and quickly become an expert on everything. Why? Because homelessness puts you in the middle of addiction, human trafficking, sex trafficking, domestic violence, child sex offenders, severe mental health issues, suicide, and so much more. You don’t get to pick and choose who you get to help. You are there to help them all, regardless of your belief system or thoughts.

You brave the elements on a daily basis. You go to environments that even law enforcement tells you to stay away from. You get threatened, stalked, called names. And in the worse case scenario, you have to go hands on. You need to be okay with death and overdose. You need to remain calm in a crisis situation. And most importantly, you need to know when you need to take a break.

You will get close with your team. One day you will love them. The next day you will hate them. But everyday you will trust them…with your life. Because many times, it is just the team against the world. You train hard. You become that expert. And then it all becomes muscle memory.

You can forget about having a 9–5 schedule. You often get to work early and work late into the night. On the off chance that you do have a life that resembles a 9–5 schedule, you then have to contend with shutting your mind off. Leaving that mother and baby in an abandoned car. Wondering if that teenager is going to be trafficked? Not knowing if that client that you just gave Narcan to is going to make it through the night. Or, if that veteran suffering from PTSD is going to kill themselves, because the images are too much for them to live with any longer.

I understand the allure of wanting to be an outreach worker. I mean, who doesn’t want to help the hurting. It does feel good, when you actually get a win. But those wins are mostly short lived. But on occasion, you actually see a life turn around forever. And you celebrate that. You hold onto that. Why? Because tomorrow is coming, and you’re starting all over again. And the law of probability states that you will be dealing with the unwilling, addicted, abused, abandoned, and dying.

So today I literally said out loud,” It’s too cold to be doing outreach”. Yes, it was fucking cold. But I have options. And many of my clients don’t. And THAT, is why I am an outreach worker.