Botson Mars
Google
After losing my home last summer due to a family tragedy and facing serious financial hardship I found myself stranded living on the streets of Las Vegas. I stayed at the Catholic Charities shelter for a couple of weeks before being accepted into the Men’s Renew for Hope program. Many of us, myself included, were struggling to survive during that record breaking summer heat, with temperatures exceeding 115 degrees on many days.
The shelter closes daily from 7 a.m. to 4 p.m., so unless you had a job or an interview, your only option was to pack up your belongings each morning and spend the day at Courtyard, the facility next door. This daily routine was exhausting and mentally draining for everyone. Still, I was grateful to have a cool place to sleep at night.
At the time, the internet at Catholic Charities was down, which delayed my official enrollment into the program. This program promised a permanent bed, employment support, and “intensive” case management. Once accepted, I was assigned a caseworker named Lynette.
Within days, I secured employment with a former employer. I informed Lynette and began training. She asked for a formal letter of employment, which I provided after my first week. Upon receiving it, she told me I wasn’t allowed to take a job that paid commission and said I’d have to quit or be removed from the program.
I explained that I knew the job well, had previous success in the role, and was confident it was my best shot at getting back on my feet. She told me I didn’t have a choice if I wanted to keep my bed, I had to quit the job. This was in mid July, during one of the hottest summers on record. Out of fear of being back on the streets, I quit my new job.
The very next day, Lynette informed me that I would be written up for missing mandatory meetings, meetings that mostly served as check-ins and rarely offered meaningful help. There was nothing “intensive” about the case management. There were only two or three staff members overseeing the entire group. Clearly understaffed, I did my best to be kind and respectful toward Lynette, but she was often cold and unapproachable.
One day, in a group meeting, Lynette yelled at a young man for not finding a job quickly enough. It was a deeply uncomfortable moment. The next day, he was gone. I never saw him again.
The meetings, sometimes two or three a day, often interfered with job interviews and employment opportunities. When I asked Lynette what would happen if I got written up, she said I could be kicked out of the program. This was just one day after quitting my new job, at her request.
That evening, I went to bed uncertain about my future. The next morning, Lynette was out. Another staff member reassured me that everything was fine and said I could go to my job interview that day. When I returned that evening, my belongings had been placed into large trash bags. I was told I had been kicked out for missing meetings while I was working my new job. No one had warned me. I was told earlier that morning that things were fine. But it was already done. I was escorted off the property, out into the intense heat.
A part of me broke that day. I had put my trust and patience into this program, and into myself. I was doing everything I could to rebuild my life.
I believe Catholic Charities does not live up to the image they present to the public. Their goal seems more focused on keeping people in the program rather than actually assisting in recovery in the way that they promised.
That summer, I met a man in the shelter who was later found dead from heatstroke on the sidewalk. No one talks about stories like his.
To be fair, the volunteers in the cafeteria were kind, and a few staff members showed compassion, and so, I reached out to Catholic Charities to voice my concerns, but I never received a response. Some of my personal belongings were never returned.
I’m not writing this with any expectations. I just want to shed light on the inner world of homeless life in Las Vegas.
