Broken Promises
Down and Out in New York and America
In the early morning hours, volunteers donating canned food jostle past the cafeteria. An exhibit entitled “Faces” borders the room, displaying portraits of the men who have found temporary lodging at Bowery Mission, a homeless shelter.
Each painting is accompanied by a short text recording each of their hopes and dreams. One wants to be a firefighter, another a game designer. Occasionally, we read of someone wondering when life went wrong.
Sitting across a table is Phil Cantor, a stocky and bearded character, who has spent most of his adult life revolving through the doors of homeless shelters. In his search for a place to stay, he said he has traveled up as far as Connecticut, and down as far as South Carolina.
He was supposed to be a success story. Last year, he had secured a coveted place in Bowery Mission’s 6-month residential program, which provided skills training, legal aid, and education opportunities, among other services to the homeless. The hope was that after the program, graduates could enter society, employed and housed.
Cantor even has the sweater to prove it. Seated next to him, his friends wear maroon hoodies issued to ‘alumni’, as if they had gone through a four-year college and not a homeless shelter.
But in his experience, such institutions only made false promises, said Cantor.
Many of these homeless shelters have not helped his search for steady employment. Over his whole life, he has worked only two jobs: a security guard, and a porter at the Garden City Hotel twenty years ago, where he said he once saw Ringo Starr. But he could not hold on to either job, forcing him to live on the streets.
He points out that many of the alumni still hang around the shelter, few having left the confines of the system. Some of the staff at the Bowery Mission have gone through the program themselves, but were unable to find employment elsewhere.
It didn’t help that he hasn’t had much formal education. He received his high school certificate, but spent most of his school years in special education classes, where teachers would complain that their charges were “behind the eight ball”.
But Cantor was not looking for employment now. The quest for permanent housing occupies most of his time. He professes a deep belief in providing homes for the homeless. Only from there, could someone start a new life, he said.
Prior to his stay at Bowery Mission, his search had already taken him past eight case officers, gatekeepers to much sought-after low-income housing. But each application was met only by failure. Describing the process as a game of “ring around the rosie”, Cantor said the paperwork he had to fill out and the strict requirements for approval was frustrating.
For now, he rents out a room in Bowery House, a cheap motel opposite the shelter. It costs him $560 a week, much of it paid from the dwindling inheritance left by his mother. Other than this, he subsists on food stamps.
Though he has friends around the city, he doesn’t have an immediate support network. His only sister resides in Israel, where she works as a microbiologist.
During our interview, Cantor occasionally fingers his cell phone. He says that he is waiting for his sister’s call. She makes the effort to call everyday, he said, and is trying to help him immigrate to Israel.
Despite his Jewish heritage, he’s unsure if his application will succeed. And after a lifetime of disappointments, he does not expect his difficulties to end.
But with money running out, he feels this is his last hope. Tired of “broken promises”, he said, he wanted to make a fresh start somewhere else.
