Dom Pannell's Blog

Crisis Open Christmas 2004 - Dom's diary

I intend to post a diary of my experiences working in the COC shelters this year. As I wrote previously, this is the fourth Open that I have volunteered on and since 2002 I have been what is known as a ‘Key Volunteer’ so I get to boss newbies around. I won’t pretend that I’ll be able to write something every day of the Open –it can be quite stressful and some days all you want to do is go to bed when you get home – but I’ll do my best. I’ll start with a summary of what I’ve been up to since last time round.

January saw the post-COC party for all volunteers. This is a wild affair, taking place within two weeks of close-down; as well as being extremely therapeutic, it is an opportunity to let your hair down with hundreds of people with whom you have shared an incredible experience.

Next came the Key Vols’s debrief (over pizza and beer…truly the best way to run such things). These sessions are important as they allow us to pool our experiences so that measures can be taken to improve the next COC. I requested more training in dealing with situations that require removing guests; this does not happen too often, but on the last day of last year’s Open I had to deal with someone who came extremely distraught when they realised they’d missed the opportunity to speak to a re-housing advisor. I was too slow-thinking and the situation could easily have escalated if other, more experienced, volunteers had not been around to support me.

Then there was 10-pin bowling at the Elephant and Castle (a Central London shopping centre). I really do appreciate the fact that so many events are organised near to where I live south of the river Thames - although it must be said that did not show my best form and I remember being thoroughly thrashed by Debbie and Jane in the last game that I played. Still, it was a good evening…

The big summer event was an evening on the steamboat the “Dixie Queen” and it really was tremendous fun. The morning shift hardcore met up early in a local boozer before joining all the other party-goers to dance, drink and catch up. Finally, a bunch of us went off to an Indian restaurant where we carried on chatting until they kicked us out. It was excellent to see so many of the other vols in a social environment; the best thing being that there seemed to be very little discussion of COC!! Over the course of the evening I made a few new acquaintances, a couple of whom I see on a more or less regular basis for social and/or business reasons… we rarely talk about Crisis.

There were also several get-togethers, many organised by Wizzy, who sadly (for us, not for him) won’t be doing COC this year as he has headed off for foreign adventures. I don’t know who can stand in for Wizzy as an excellent party-organiser. Hopefully somebody will fill his shoes.

This year any volunteer preparing food must have passed at least basic food hygiene training, which Crisis offered to anyone committed to working at least one shift; when the offer came, I jumped at the chance. As a result, I will spend two shifts working in the kitchens (one in the Main, one in Drinkers). If anyone goes down with food poisoning this year, you know where they should point the finger…

To date, that’s about it, apart from several days spent working in warehouses and delivering donated goods to shelters. COC starts tomorrow for real.

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Day 1 seemed to go relatively smoothly.

I arrived at the Dome just before 8am and bypassed the queue at the entrance; once again I appear to have messed up my application and the letter confirming my shifts did not include the first day. Last year the letter actually stated that I was not required until Boxing Day and the shift team were surprised when I didn’t turn up… I was told to ignore the letter and come anyway because Key Vols are always welcome (AKA use your common sense, Dom!). This year, then, I quickly found one of my friends who swept me past the line of people who had just come off the tube at North Greenwich.

I still had to sign in at the Vols Entrance and write my name on a badge – this is the only thing that differentiates Volunteers from Guests, many of whom arrive looking much smarter and cleaner than their hosts for the week.

Before every shift briefing, Vols are now required to watch a health and safety video, which highlights some of the hazards that are present in the shelter. The video was made with a sense of humour, which is fine, but I know I will never want to see it again after this week. In any case, several of the new Vols ignored the advice on lifting heavy objects almost immediately… possibly in an attempt to impress the very many pretty girls they were working with. Still, they can’t say they weren’t warned.

Before long, I was stationed outside counting sections of metal fencing as they were carried into the centre of the Dome. As I was next door to the kennels, I was able to get an idea of how Guests’ faithful companions will be housed. All the while Andy (Dogs) and Clare rushed around trying to organise things before the doors opened some time after 1pm.

The morning was generally spent lugging things around in preparation for the arrival of the first Guests. Luckily there were plenty of willing Vols around to carry heavier items such as metal fencing and crowd control barriers from one part of the Dome to another. The weather, while chilly, was fine which meant that the job was completed in a cheerful spirit.

I always think that the first shift of COC is rather amusing; new Vols are happy to do the bidding of anyone who (like me) appears to understand what is going on. It is only by the end of the day that they get wise to the fact that only very few people have anything more than a vague understanding of the wider operation. Sure, we are all united in our ambition to make Guests’ stay as comfortable and welcoming as possible, given obvious constraints in terms of time and resources, but only a handful of us really have a grasp of how one section affects the others. This year, due to the design of the Dome, service tents are spread out in a crescent shape; the vast centre being left clear in case of a fire – interestingly, if there is a fire alert, we will have to troop into the centre (and presumably watch the flames without distraction) whereas a bomb alert requires us to leave the building. Because of the layout, communication between, say, the Learning and Skills Centre at one end of the crescent and the two TV tents in the middle, will be made that little bit more challenging.

I spent the afternoon doing one of my favourite tasks: organising the clothes queue. Distributing donated clothing, for many of the guests, is one of the most vital services that COC provides. Consequently, a line formed as soon as the Dome was opened up (I wasn’t wearing my watch, but it was around 1pm. Every Guest is entitled to one visit to the Clothing Store, which this year is half of a marquee that it shares with the General Volunteers area. Clive, the “ticket-keeper” this year (Martyn will be along later in the week apparently) gave out thirty tickets to the first Guests who arrived at the tent.

Within an hour, all of our “customers” had gone away with a black bin liner filled with clean clothes. Most people were extremely pleased with what they received, the only thing that we were lacking being “good boots” for the guys that walk long distances and the brand of trainers for those dedicated followers of fashion for whom looking stylish is all-important – who says you have to lose your self-respect just because you lose your home!

Finished at 4.30pm, will be back in at 7.45am tomorrow.

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Day 2 - Christmas Eve

Not much to report really. I was on the clothing queue all day and it went swimmingly. All of the Guests were great, mainly due to the charming Volunteers who handled them so well. There were no arguments and everybody who wanted clothes seemed to get most of what they wanted.

A couple of people who missed out yesterday were particularly satisfied with the clothes they were given, as they were of a particularly high quality. The only negative aspect was that we gave out a few too many tickets in the afternoon and, as a result, we didn’t finish until after 5pm. The last hour really dragged because we had to cater for some of the more ‘discerning’ Guests, i.e. they spent ages picking and choosing the clothes that they wanted. I can’t say I blame them, as I’m sure I would do the same if I were in their shoes, but I’ll make sure that none of them wangle their way back in for a second visit (Guests are only permitted one visit to the clothing store, but many of them will try to blag a second trip – again, who can blame them? I’d do the same.).

As a result of the longer shift, I was fairly exhausted by the time I was dropped off at home at 6pm, after eating I went to bed for a quick kip and didn’t wake up until half past midnight. I woke up to the end of the midnight church service that was being broadcast on Radio 4. Of course I was wide awake, so I listened to the BBC World Service until about 4am. I did manage to grab a couple of hours more sleep before Tina picked me up to go back to the shelter to start all over again (hence my writing two entries one after the other). Tina offered to fetch a couple of us because there will be little of no public transport for the next couple of days.

So far the Volunteers’ food has been… er, how shall I put this… mixed? While I have nothing against vegetarian burgers and sausages in principle, I won’t touch them again if they are burnt on one side; I had to eat nearly a packet of Wine Gums to remove the taste of char-grilled cardboard in my mouth after lunch. For some reason only one of the two hot water urns can be switched on at a time. As a result it is pot luck as to whether there will be possible to make a cup of tea when we return to the Vols area. Of course, the result is that by the time the water is hot, there is a line of people waiting to fill their cups, so the water runs out and the urn needs to be heated up again. At least it makes for longer breaks.

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Day 3 – Christmas Day

I was back on the clothing queue again, but it was a little more ‘exciting’ today.

The first guest I spoke to had obviously not had the best night’s sleep and when I asked him to take a seat while we were getting ready, he swore at me, announced he didn’t want any clothes and walked off… all that after having waited for at least two hours to be in the queue! I saw him later on and he seemed to be on much better form, although he didn’t rejoin the clothing queue again.

A short while afterwards there was an altercation between two female Guests who had had a falling out in the early morning (I was briefed about it by the night shift when I relieved them) and their heated discussion continued after one of them had been given a set of clothes. For some reason, probably because I was holding a walkie-talkie, it fell to me to step in and separate them. The training I had on dealing with hostile situations seems to have had some effect… well at least everybody came out unscathed! I was supported by the other Volunteers who were very efficient at distracting other Guests with the result that the situation was not allowed to escalate. One of the ladies was encouraged to leave with the bag of clothes that she had received. A little later her potential combatant announced that she wanted to go to one of the other shelters in central London. This provided a perfect opportunity to hurry her through the clothing queue and whisk her out of the Dome.

The rest of the morning went like clockwork and we finished in time to have some lunch. Vegetable pies today (I had two) and tuna sandwiches. They weren’t at all bad; although I was pleased I’d eaten a hearty protein-rich breakfast before Tina picked me up in the morning. Sweets and chocolate got me through the long afternoon.

Although we were strict in the number of tickets we allocated, we didn’t finish until well after 5pm. This is because of the number of ‘high-maintenance’ Guests that we catered for. By the time I was able to lock the doors and leave the clothing store, I wasn’t feeling particularly charitable. Nor were the other Vols who could only leave an hour and a half late. The problem arises because every shift we hold back a few ‘discretionary’ tickets for people who don’t make it into the queue, but who are deemed exceptional cases. Apart from the obvious fact that it involves breaking the explicit deal that we have with Guests who have waited patiently for several hours, the practical drawback of this system is that just as we are winding down at the end of the day, we have to deal with people who need more pampering than most of the others. I think I’ll try an experiment tomorrow to see if we can’t fix this.

The other frustration this afternoon was that the people guarding the entrance to the clothing store were too nice! From now on I’m going to insist that the Vols I pick are hard-nosed enough to look a homeless person in the face and say ‘no’ when they are being entreated to bend the rules. Everyone has a tragic tale to tell and the system is not fair. But after years of alterations, it is the best one we have.

My ‘Crisis cold’ started today – normally it hits me when I relax after COC, but I guess my immune system has closed down. I have dosed myself with paracetamol and Vick’s Rub and I’m off to bed early again.

Roll on Boxing Day.

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Day 4 – Boxing Day

So much for my experiment, Clive was back and wanted to stick with the system we’d used over the previous days… we ended up staying late again with another demanding Guest. A witty New Yorker, “N” has been coming to COC for several years and knows the clothing store system like the back of his hand. He also knows how to play it in order to engineer more clothes than are allowed. When he eventually left (he made us stay an hour and a half late) it was made clear to him that he would not be allowed to come back for more clothes.

I went to bed early again and woke up in the middle of the night. The BBC World Service was full of reports about an enormous earthquake and a tidal wave it caused. Apparently it has caused widespread devastation in countries surrounding the Indian Ocean.

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Day 5

Easy-peasey today. The whole service ran like clockwork and the team finished distributing clothes by 3.55pm. Refusing entry to Guests trying to queue up for a second set of clothes became easier when I heard that a van had turned up in the morning offering to buy bags of clothes for £5 a pop.

Guests have plenty of ruses for ‘gaming’ the clothing system – they know that if they manage to get hold of a ticket, it is all the more difficult to turn them away; emotionally it is very hard to look someone who has nothing in the eye and explain that they can’t have any more clothes.

As there was a lack of experienced Volunteers (this generally happens in the second half of the week), I was given the additional task of monitoring the Guests’ entrance to the Dome and ensuring that Fire Marshals patrol the Shelter. The former involved stationing groups of Vols at strategic spots where they could assist Guests and be ready to help in case of an emergency. All very straightforward and I tried my best to rotate Vols regularly. I was less effective when it came to the Fire Marshals.

In order to distinguish them from other Vols, Fire Marshals wear high visibility reflective yellow jackets. Generally, one shift will take these jackets as they relieve the last shift so after minimal briefing, I sent a dozen or so onto the floor to find the outgoing shift and relieve them. After half an hour or so, I bumped into one of the chaps I’d sent out and he told me he hadn’t seen any Fire Marshals from the previous shift… after a couple of hours during which we’d run out of ideas for who to ask or where to look, someone found a pile of jackets in a neat pile in the Volunteers area. Presumably the night shift Fire Marshals had decided they wanted to go home early…

I asked John, who works for Chelsea FC in his day job, to brief the Fire Marshals properly, which he did in far more detail that I would have been able to do. I guess one of the problems with COC is that it runs once a year, so we are liable to forget a lot of information. John does this sort of thing for a living.

I agreed to come in tomorrow morning in order to show a replacement what to do in the clothing queue and to ensure an element of consistency. Due to COC scheduling, I will be working at the Drinkers’ Shelter tomorrow afternoon, helping in the kitchens. While I’m all for variation, it does mean that the likelihood of repeat visits to the clothing store by Guests will increase as I won’t be there to recognise faces.

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Day 6 – Drinkers

I got to the Main at 7.45am and stayed until 11.00 by which time the clothing system was ticking along nicely. It wasn’t completely without problems, however. The night shift had allowed Guests to bring bedding into the clothing tent and several of them were lying down. Sarah set to, telling them that nobody would be given a ticket if they were not sitting on chairs. We tried to remove the bedding; it is both a fire hazard and very useful for hiding things in, so we prefer not to have it in the clothing queue. Indeed, COC policy is to take back bedding and store it during daylight hours.

While Mike and I were organising the ‘pre-queue queue’ I left an inexperienced volunteer to watch the entrance to the clothing tent. My guess is that we were outside for maybe twenty minutes… plenty of time, as it turned out, for someone to jump behind the cinema screen and swipe the video projector. I only found out when I was trying to put on a cartoon to amuse the Guests as they sat and waited for their turn at the clothing counter. I guess it was smuggled out in some of the bedding. Ho hum!

“N” came back. I don’t know who let him in, but he managed it together with a valid ticket, or at least he claimed he had one – neither Clive or I had given it to him. Still, before either of us had realised, “N” had marched up to the counter where clothes are given out and was demanding to be served. Tina tried her best to refuse him, but he wasn’t moving until a Green Badge came. I radioed for the Shift Leader to come. In order to avoid escalating the situation, “N” was permitted to stay and received a second set of clothes. He took his time again and it was only when another, larger Green Badge appeared that he left with his loot.

I went home, ate some lunch and grabbed a couple of hours sleep before heading off to the Drinkers Shelter.

I love the Drinkers – I said before that this is the shelter that got me hooked in the first place, yet I hadn’t been there for three years.

Drinkers is very different from the Main, particularly as it is like a 24 hour party. All the time I was there, there was a DJ playing and one of the Open’s superstars Blue formerly a Guest (Blue is his street name, although we know by his real name, Malcolm) was running entertainments. Malcolm is a human dynamo who seems to live on sugary tea and adrenalin. He was working in the warehouse with me prior to set up and will go back there immediately the Open is over.

The site this year is the old Lazard’s (http://www.lazard.com/) building in the Barbican Centre (City of London), which I thought was quite appropriate. The shelter is on split floors, however, which is not ideal and the kitchen was in a Portacabin-type construction in the underground carpark. The logistics meant that this year it was not possible to run a 24-hour rolling food service, which has been a distinguishing feature of Drinkers in the past.

During the afternoon shift, the kitchen was run by an excellent fellow called Shelley. I was one of three people who helped him with cutting and cleaning. When food was ready, we had to transport it in ‘hot boxes’ up to the first floor where we served Shelley’s creations to Guests.

I had a fantastic time serving food. After watching Tom in the Clothing Store, I really wanted to get stuck into a ‘public-facing’ job and this was my opportunity. Without exception, the Guests were great. Even if they weren’t happy with all of the food (“Don’t give me any of that vegetarian shite!” was a fairly typical refrain) Sure, a couple of them took the piss, but who really gives a hoot? The only tense moment came when someone skipped the queue and was called up by another Guest. As both were lining up for Christmas pudding (I didn’t realise people still ate it… perhaps it was more palatable because it came from Harrods and was served with M&S Brandy Butter and/or Birds’ Custard), there was no need to push in… we had lots –left the remaining puds were left in a hotbox so that 24-hour party people would have something to tuck into after we had left.

The Vols were equally grateful for what they got, which, given that most of them waited until Guests had been fed, wasn’t always much…

Keeping the kitchen team highly amused were two ‘vegans’ one of whom, it turns out, did not eat anything with tomatoes in, but both of whom consume milk (in tea), eggs (various puddings) and seafood (calamari). One of the cooks had put up a sign in the kitchen so that nobody would forget to cater for them. Shelley has been adding a list of exceptions to their strict vegan diet as and when he discovers them.

The best news I heard while I was at Drinkers was that a number of Guests had been found accommodation after COC. It was cold tonight. That’s the whole point.

I finished at 11pm and was in bed by midnight.

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Day 7

I was back at the Main by 8am. I was in the kitchens again, although they were much larger in the Dome. Again it was great fun, with lots to do all day so it flew by. We prepared four meals; two for Guests and two for Vols. Everyone was pleasant and experienced hands guided us newbies. There were production lines everywhere for all the different jobs that needed doing: sandwich-making (filled bagels); tin-opening; soup-stirring; cleaning, lots of cleaning.

My claim to fame is that it fell to me to monitor seven ovens simultaneously, each filled with cannelloni. It was the first time that I had used a temperature probe and I learned what hot spots are; even when the top was thoroughly cooked, this was no indication of the temperature underneath. The cannelloni came out of hundreds of frozen packets and had been transferred to oven trays of various shapes and sizes. Not all trays fitted into all ovens, which was a good thing as it turned out because it meant that after a while (I forget the exact timing) we were able to deliver a steady stream of hot cannelloni to the bain maries where it was dished up to Guests. The ovens were extremely hot and I was grateful when the sous-chef relieved me so that I could go for a short break after a couple of hours.

When our shift came to an end, I met Lynette from clothing and we agreed to go for a drink. Before we went, however, we found out that all remaining clothes had to be ready to return to the warehouse the following morning, because the clothing tent was going to be taken down. We went to the nearest pub, had a pint. OK, Lynette had to drive to the warehouse, so she didn’t, but I had two to make up… well, I hadn’t had a beer for nearly two months as part of my annual detox – not that it stopped me catching a cold! We were back by 6pm and while Lynette drove back to the warehouse, I recruited a team of Vols from the afternoon shift and we began sorting out clothes that were not suitable for COC – as I explained to some horrified Vols, while a Hawaiian shirt may be a lovely thing, it is of only very limited use in the middle of an English winter. We piled unwanted clothes into the centre of the clothing store. Criteria for inclusion were: flimsiness, ‘threadbareness’ and general bad taste. Designer labels were kept, as many of the Guests are label-conscious (and why not?). Jeans and jogging bottoms, valuable commodities in the homeless communities were also to be retained.

After a couple of hours an enormous pile of clothes. Lynette was back by now and together we loaded them into three large boxes. I’m pleased we did this by hand, as it turns out that our idea of what makes an item of clothing useable obviously differed from at least one of the Vols as we found at least a dozen brand-new Barbour jerseys and several pairs of jeans… next year perhaps we’ll try to persuade some of the clothing distribution crew to help, as they have a good understanding of what Guests want.

All of the rest of the clothes were palletted ready for removal the following morning. By the time Lynette and I had finished, it was 11pm. We found out that the afternoon shift had headed for drinks at a local hotel, so we gatecrashed the party. Lynette mumbled something about sleeping on site so she could start again the following morning, but I pointed out that I needed a lift home and she had a vehicle, so it made more sense for her to sleep on my spare bed.

We chatted for a while when we got in before I crashed on my sofa at about 4am.

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Day 8 – Close-down

Lynette and I made it back to the Main by about 10am (so much for the early start). Close-down was already in full swing and the clothes were already being wrapped for taking to the warehouse.

The day was spent dismantling, carrying, cutting and removing. Everybody mucked in and the progress was evident by the time we finished at 4.45pm. Green Badges strolled around giving contradictory instructions, which was frustrating at first, but amusing by the end. It all got done anyway.

After the shift, most people headed for the pub to say our goodbyes and swap email addresses, etc. many people will be at the post-COC party next week.

I’m knackered, but it’s over for me – now I’d better go back to earning my keep!

PostScript:

I discovered I was rather disorientated and wandered around today thinking it was Sunday... it's Saturday, so I suppose I have gained a day.

Walking around London, I spotted three people living on the street, two of whom asked me for money. I didn't recognise any of them.

I forgot to say a sincere thank you to all the Green Badges. They are amazing people who make COC such an incredibly successful event each year.

Christmas Pillow-Fight

I’ve just woken up after the best night's sleep I've had for ages. The reason being that I took part in a huge, exhausting pillow-fight in Trafalgar Square yesterday. Well… it is Christmas. after all!

Boy it was fun!

Surreptitiously organised by the guys behind Mobile Clubbing, several hundred modern-day jousters converged in front of the National Gallery ready for kick-off at 18:09 on the dot. For the most part, pillows were subtly concealed in bags or under clothes, although a few people had obviously been to the department stores on Oxford Street to buy their armaments. When the moment came, it was chaos and friendly mayhem ensued for the next forty minutes or so.

Feathers flew everywhere as pillow-fighters young and old (I’d say the age range was from 4 to around 64) and tourists ran for cover – scaring foreign tourists is always high on a Londoner’s priority list; it’s our revenge for their continuously asking questions and getting in the way on the buses during rush hour.

There were some particularly violent contenders… unsurprisingly these were mainly girls. I thought someone had cracked one of my teeth out at one point, but I got her back with a swift backhand blow to the face that I developed over the course of the battle.

Next time I’ll come armed with two pillows and I’ll make sure that at least one of them contains real feathers; the light, synthetic one that I was brandishing was good in the cut and thrust, but lacked the weight that some of my opponents had.

I’m not sure what the carol singers in the middle of the Square thought when they were attacked by a cheerful mob of ruffians wielding soft weapons, but they seemed to take it in their stride well enough… I pity the nice lady who announced “you have to sing carols if we want to be here…” Needless to say, she got walloped.

I left during the tidy-up operation (I did help a bit, but there comes a point when you realise that feathers are bio-degradable and that the paving slabs on Trafalgar Square haven’t been shiny since they were laid). The place was still full of smiling faces – not a bad result on a freezing cold December evening.

All good stuff!

/Dom

Crisis Management for the 21st Century

So December comes around again. For me that means Crisis Open Christmas, or COC. Crisis is a charity that works for and with the homeless in the UK. I came across the charity in 2001 when, not spending Christmas in the comfort of my family home for once, I wanted to do something worthwhile. As a budding entrepreneur (not wholly out of choice; I struggled for years to be a good employee, only to realise that I have a fundamental problem with taking orders from people who are driven solely by financial gain and/or their own self-importance) and having done my time signing on for unemployment benefit, I know only too well how easy it is to slip into the downward spiral of disillusionment and exclusion. I am lucky in that I have an amazing support network around me without which I would certainly have hit the streets (thanks everyone!).

While Crisis is not the only organisation that works with London’s homeless, I was looking for a truly effective charity that did not have links to any particular religion (I might write about my views on religion one day, if and when I have worked out what they are!). At first sight Crisis appeared to fit the bill.

I spoke about volunteering to two excellent Colombian friends, Sylvia and Andres, who were also had some spare time during Christmas week and before I knew it they had signed up for the ‘drinkers shelter’ – to this day I don’t know if this was a comment on my own drinking habit… I duly signed up for a couple of afternoon shifts and before I knew it I was there pretty much every day, using my language skills to sort out a young Swedish couple who had had their money stolen on arrival at Stansted Airport and ended up resorting to sleeping in the shelter while they waited for their return flight home. I recall that I overheard two Swedes discussing the safety of the digital camcorder that they had stowed in the luggage store and figured that perhaps they were not in the safest place. Luckily the Swedish Church in London is a particularly compassionate haven and it was a simple task to persuade them to look after the unfortunate pair.

I have been hooked ever since.

In 2002 I was made a Key Volunteer, which means giving up several weekends a year for (excellent) training sessions relating to issues that relate directly to homelessness (mental health, drug use and abuse…), the running of the various shelters at the ‘Open’ (policies for dealing with Guests, team-building…), as well as informing us of the many different services that Crisis offers throughout the year – I am a member of Crisis Skylight (they did say Vols were welcome to sign up) and attended a very good introductory course to film-making last year. Being a Key Vol also means that I get to boss people about…

Actually, that’s what I find so refreshing about Crisis; there is NO BOSSING ABOUT! The operations of the entire organisation are based on respect for others; take the Open, for instance. COC is a massive military-esque operation that is currently run by an amazing chap called Maff Potts. Indeed, COC would not exist at all if it weren’t for the amazing people who are behind it. I believe that this year Crisis is running six shelters, the largest of which (‘the Main’, where I generally work on the morning shift) slept close to 650 people one night last year and topped 500 for at least three. If you reckon on three times that number of people visiting the shelter during the day but are able to accommodate themselves at night, you will begin to see where the estimated £450,000 in donations and donated goods goes.

Every one of the Guests at the Main is given access to the facilities available – if memory serves me right, two years ago this included thirty-seven different services ranging from IT training, to haircutting through three hot meals (itself a vast undertaking), advice on re-housing and drug dependency to access to fully equipped medical and dental staff. In the evenings Guests are offered a whole range of entertainments (if you have ever played soccer against a bunch of ex-squaddies, you’ll know that it hurts) before the beds are put out, the lights are switched off and overnight Guests go to sleep. That doesn’t mean that the day’s job is done, however, as some people can’t or don’t want to sleep, so the lights are left on in one part of the shelter and Volunteers carry on with perhaps the most important of their many tasks: talking to people who may not have had the opportunity to express their thoughts to another soul for many months. The night shift also monitor the sleeping bays in an attempt to protect the property of Guests who have chosen not to stow all of their belongings in the luggage store – sadly, every year sees a handful of thefts, particularly during the hours of darkness. Moreover, it is often during the night that some of the most vulnerable cases are identified. By the time the morning shift comes on, there is always a list of actions waiting to be dealt with once the appropriate professionals arrive. Effective handover briefings are crucial.

Morning shift also means that the clothes store opens for the day. This, along with the dog kennel, where the fabulous Andy (AKA “Dogs”) and her team stay in a makeshift hut for the week minding a limited number of Guests’ faithful companions, is one of the most valuable (and most contentious) services that the Open offers. Several dozen people queue for hours hoping for of a change of clothes in the knowledge that they will probably have to return to London’s wet and windy streets in a few days and that proper clothing may be the difference between life and death. It can be an explosive situation, especially as the clothes available are distinctly limited and have to be rationed in order to help as many people as possible. For as long as I have been working at the Main, the clothing store has been run by Martyn and Lynette according to a strict set of rules. Martyn hands out tickets to Guests who have been queuing patiently for at least a couple of hours. He has to spot ‘repeat visitors’ who try to game the system by collecting two sets of clothes – a few years ago, according to long-standing Vols, it was fairly commonplace for certain Guests to fill up shopping trolleys with new clothes, which they then sold on. In order to prevent any altercations, Martyn is accompanied by two of the… er… larger, more experienced Vols; for the past couple of years that has meant a chap called Andy and myself for the morning shift (if for any reason Andy reads this, I sincerely hope he is recovered enough to work this year).

Certainly, without the cooperation of Guests and Volunteers alike, COC would be a powder keg waiting for the fuse to be lit. The reason it for its success is, in my opinion, the result of some of the most foresighted management techniques around, two of the most essential are respect, delegation and effective support.

Respect
As I have already mentioned, respect for people is fundamental, especially as so many of the Guests and indeed the Vols cannot or will not tolerate being ordered about for no good reason. Shift leaders and their most capable assistants (‘Green Badges’) are constantly on the lookout for potential trouble spots while asking for and taking on board feedback from Guests and Vols alike. Where there is not an obvious reason for something, it is changed if it will make the operation flow more smoothly, in this way ‘management’ continually earn the respect of everyone around them. There is no question of anyone hiding behind a closed door and opting for an easy life…

Delegation
This is another key to the success of the Open. As I have implied, COC has a loose organisation structure whose exact structure depends on the number and experience of Vols available. Crisis Volunteers come in all shapes and sizes and from any number of backgrounds. Many of the really dedicated have experienced homelessness, or as in my case, the bleakness that can come with being made redundant for no good reason (I will post my experience of ‘WASP’ management techniques at some point in the near future - DP). Even those who have no personal familiarity with the issues surrounding homelessness are not being paid, choosing to join in out of the goodness of their hearts. What unites this motley crew is the fact that they cannot be told what to do. Nevertheless, COC runs successfully and is, for the most part, a source of fun in the middle of London’s dreary winter.

Shift Leaders, Green Badges and Key Vols are skilled in asking people to do things, some of them not altogether pleasant. Hopefully new Vols realise that none of us will ever request that someone else to do something that we would not do ourselves… I have done everything except for working in the kitchens and I am due to attend a course in food hygiene training in a week or two so I will be able to fix that particular gaping hole in my COC career.

Over the past four years, I’ve cleaned lavatories and shower units, swept floors, carried boxes, manned the front gate in a blizzard, attempted to physically constrain a guest who, at close-down, realised that she’d missed her chance of being re-housed (she was trying to persuade the person in charge of the medical service to lie on her behalf) and decided she would try to go through the confidential patient files that were still onsite. The young lady in question was eventually talked into leaving the premises. I’ve averted at least three fights (on one occasion I just needed to walk away), mopped up vomit, assisted ambulance crew in providing medical assistance to seriously ill guests and (hardest of all) turned Guests out into the snow at the end of the week.

And yet, none of the above is what comes to mind when I think of COC. What I remember is talking and laughing with friends, listening to some of the most colourful stories imaginable, watching grateful Guests eating hot meals finished off with a cup of coffee and a free fag. I think of all the wonderful Vols who give up that most priceless of luxuries – time – to bring a smile to the faces of good people who, as the saying goes, "but for the Grace of God, go I". I recall the camaraderie that brings Vols together at several points in the year for wonderful (or wild, depending on which shift to which one belongs! I go to all of them…) parties with like-minded folk. This year, all Vols were invited to meet up for an exceptionally good event on the Dixie Queen, which is a steamboat on the Thames; it has already been booked for 2005.

Effective Support
COC is a hard slog and it takes its toll on many of the people involved in running it. Fortunately, support for Vols comes in spades and if anyone feels that they cannot fulfil their tasks, they are encouraged to speak up. A replacement will always be found, or a way round any obstacle.

Working Environment
COC depends on the benevolence of other organisations for where the shelters are based and consequently sometimes they are not located in ideal premises (the hardcore still talk of the time when the Main was housed in a tent on Clapham Common. It was particularly cold that year apparently. In 2002 and 2003 we were lucky to have use of a disused distribution warehouse on Mandela Way in Southwark whose large areas were pretty much ideal for organising the Main. Strong rumour has it that this year two of the shelters will be in a rather famous building on the South Bank… hopefully I will be able to procure myself a bike, otherwise I will be dependent on cadging a lift from Vols when public transport stops on Christmas and Boxing Days. If the rumours prove to be correct, Tim Edwards the Operations Manager and his team have come up trumps again.

For the other fifty-two weeks of the year, Crisis is based in ultra-modern offices on Commercial Street, which is prime development property in the heart of London’s financial district. According to what I have been told, the reason for this is that the landlord made a neighbouring building available for the Drinkers Shelter in 2001 (i.e. my first year) and was so impressed with how smoothly it ran that he proposed the disparate elements of the charity come under one roof. I have no idea whether Crisis pays full commercial rents, but in any case the landlord did the charity a massive favour. Morale is always high in the offices and people clearly enjoy both their jobs and the working environment.

On the subject of working environments, two years ago I effectively quit a well-paid senior management position because the CEO (a woman) refused to introduce water-coolers, despite clear evidence that such a simple gesture would improve the lot of the hardcore of the very hard-working, ill-paid workforce… for some reason the company has an extraordinarily high staff turnover, which costs it an inordinate amount of money in recruitment and training. I knew I could not stay when the MD (also a woman) referred to Human Resources as “really useless, woolly stuff” when we were discussing the business studies that she had done. As this was the same person that had unofficially asked me to look for ways in which the workplace might become a happier place, I knew it was time for me to get out. If anyone genuinely wants an abject lesson in how to keep workers happy in the twenty first century, they could do far worse than to go and take a good look at how Crisis is run… now I think of it, there could be an MBA case study in there!

I have done stints on each of the three shifts (Morning, Afternoon and Nights) and can honestly say that COC NEEDS YOU! This is especially true towards the end of the week when seasonal goodwill is less abundant. No matter what your skillset, there is some way in which you can help; you don’t necessarily have to be ‘in the front line’ as there are plenty of vital jobs that need doing behind the scenes. This year I have had a lull in business activity, which has allowed me to spend the past couple of days lugging heavy objects around warehouses as part of the Resources Management team that is run by Bob Hove. Bob is an excellent manager who worked for twenty seven years in large corporations, ditto ‘Stocky’ who has run the teams that provide the technical infrastructure that underpins COC. Bob and I have discussed the reasons for the repeated success of Crisis/COC and we agree that respect is paramount – many of the fulltime employees have spent time on the street and, in a situation where creative problem-solving, where hard rules do exist, the reasons for them are explicit, understood and followed. There’s a lesson there.

A few hours hard physical work has done me good, as has spending time with people who, refreshingly, have no interest in business and, especially, the ego-politics that inevitably permeates any situation in which people are battling for their livelihoods. Just when I was flagging yesterday, a bunch of schoolchildren from Bexley Heath Lower School arrived with a lorry containing 8,000 tins of baked beans.

Must go, I need to earn some money if I am to avoid becoming a guest at COC this year… One last thought: I wonder what ‘interesting’ substances I will have the pleasure of eating this Christmas – personally I tend to avoid tinned baked beans, but then I guess beggars can’t be choosers!

/Dom