Community collaborative experience with Sara Peddle, Executive Director David Busby Street Centre and Aleta Armstrong, Director of Community Engagement, Inclusivity and Fundraising at CMHA
The Executive Director of the David Busby Street Centre since 2010, Sara Peddle is a veteran looking after the needs of those who seek out safety and a room over their heads at the shelter on Mulcaster Street, but the pandemic created challenges on a scale she had never seen.
Before the arrival of the novel coronavirus in March 2020, the shelter had never turned anyone away, with enough cots, along with a shelter for women run by the Elizabeth Fry Society, to shelter nearly 80 people, and room enough to add another 20. But with the pandemic, demand surged, and the two shelters, shifted to a local motel so people could physically distance, are routinely filled with 115 people. There is a nightly waitlist of about 10 to 12, with another 30 or 40 choosing to sleep in their own encampments outdoors because they are afraid of getting infected in a congregate setting.
Turning people away is gut-wrenching because Busby has always been a place that welcomed everyone, even those barred from another shelter because of their conduct. “We’ve never turned people away before,” Peddle said. “We’ve never had to say no. This has been very hard on staff.”
While the surge in demand was the result of many things, all were rooted in the pandemic:
- With jails no longer able to hold detained people safely, the facilities released them, some with no home to return to.
- Hospitals discharged patients, then kept occupancy rates lower to create capacity to care for those infected with COVID19.
- People without homes who normally found a spare couch with friends or family suddenly found more doors closed.
- Some agencies that supported the vulnerable had to reduce or suspend programs and services, leaving their clients more exposed to becoming homeless.
“It’s been a whirlwind and it’s definitely been exacerbated by the pandemic,” Peddle said. “In the early days, we were feeling very abandoned,” That whirlwind came in a hurry. On March 20, 2020, Busby decided it could no longer shelter people safely, and that day moved 65 people – whom staff refer to as participants – to a local hotel. The speed of the move wasn’t daunting, as Busby had made quick moves before to accommodate renovations. But adapting to a new space in a local hotel: That would prove a challenge.
While doors were kept ajar so staff could monitor what was happening, and rooms were checked every 10 to 15 minutes, those precautions alone aren’t enough to guard against overdoses, sometimes resulting in up to two or three a day, Peddle said. Despite the vigilance of staff who administer Naloxone, three people have died, two in their rooms and a third later at hospital. The pandemic has spurred a growth in addictions, both to opioids and crystal meth, and caring for so many, and losing several to overdoses, has left many shelter staff struggling with their own mental health. The anguish of loss has been twinned with a fear of COVID. “It’s very taxing on our staff. We started to see the real (mental health) effects,” Peddle said.
From the get-go, CMHA has found ways to help, sending more than two dozen staff to fill in because the pandemic had left some shelter staff wanting to stay home. CMHA staff not only helped with their numbers but their approach, one that was collaborative. “(CMHA) didn’t come in to say, ‘We are experts and will take over,” Peddle recalled. “They said, ‘We’re here to roll up our sleeves and be part of the team.’ They’ve been absolutely amazing.”
Staff from both CMHA and the shelter have learned from each other, lessons they can apply to when the pandemic is done. Before COVID, the shelter struggled to persuade participants to seek out the help of CMHA. Working in the shelters have given CMHA staff insight on how to build rapport with those who are homeless, Peddle said, while shelter workers have learned from CMHA to use addiction treatment tools. CMHA has sent as many as 10 staff a week and reliably send at least four or five, Peddle said. They’ve worked in the hotel-shelters and joined mobile van deliveries.
The partnerships strengthened and lessons learned will endure after the pandemic is done. Before COVID, too much of health care and social services operated in silos, but the pandemic required a united response, both on the ground and in seeking funding. “We’ve learned a lot about each other,” Peddle said. “We’re going to be a better community coming out of this.”
Shared actions have been enhanced by shared leadership, with twice-a-week meetings of all those involved in shelters in Simcoe County, including CMHA, paramedics, and officials with housing and public health. Peddle, who chairs those meetings, has been impressed by how focused everyone has been on finding quick, creative and collaborative solutions to address the challenges of the pandemic. She hopes the group will continue to meet after the pandemic, and spoke highly of the approach of CMHA CEO Dr. Valerie Grdisa. “She’s been fantastic. We’re always brainstorming,” Peddle said.
The initiatives include 15 one-hour virtual sessions to help staff take care of themselves and those who seek shelter. CMHA staff also supported shelters run by Youth Haven and Elizabeth Fry in Barrie, Lighthouse in Orillia Guesthouse in Midland and a small shelter in Collingwood.
The move from the shelter to a local hotel was especially challenging for women cared for by the Elizabeth Fry Society as they try to transition from incarceration to freedom. Some of those women were traumatized in hotels, said Aleta Armstrong, Director of Community Engagement, Inclusivity and Fundraising at CMHA.
While the hotel offered benefits not available in traditional shelters, from private rooms to more comfort, the shift challenged staff, who could no longer maintain a line of sight on everything that was happening, Armstrong said. While privacy was enhanced, it came with risks: clients might be alone if they overdosed, a risk that sadly was present in the broader community too. “We know of people who died from overdoses because they were alone,” Armstrong said.
While some clients valued the quiet and solitude of a hotel room, others missed the camaraderie a benefit that is sometimes missed when people think of shelters as places of risk rather than opportunities to connect, Armstrong said. We’re really hoping the “spirit of partnership” will flourish after COVID, Armstrong said.