LONG READ: IN HER OWN WORDS

I’m Amber*, staff of NSTAY (Nova Scotia Transition and Advocacy for Youth) program at YWCA Halifax. I’ve been attached to the Y for at least 25 years, possibly more. My journey at the Y started at the residence that used to be on Barrington Street. I was at that time involved in addiction and sex work. I needed a place to sleep at night so my social workers said “Go to the Y.” They were very much about harm reduction. You couldn’t smoke, do drugs or drink there and you couldn’t have any male persons over age 12 in the upstairs area. 

*Name changed

Early Years

My mother’s reserve was in Alberta. My father was working out there as a train porter and he ended up meeting my mom. It’s still funny to me because my mom said “Your father was the first black man I ever saw in my life and I just thought he was beautiful and I had to have him so I got pregnant right away.” They were having difficulty out west and so dad said “let’s go home to my parents in Nova Scotia.” On the way, mom went into labour the day before valentine’s day and I was born in Winnipeg. ‘Mom said you couldn’t wait for one day?” My mother is a survivor of a residential school and so her mothering skills were never… she didn’t learn that.

I grew up between foster care and different family members. I started intravenous drugs when I was 13.  My drug of choice was coke and speed. I left school in grade 7 and I didn’t live with my parents from 13 to when I was turning 18 with my first kid. Unfortunately, within the Black and Aboriginal community, there are a lot of things that people don’t acknowledge. People have a lot of issues and very little resources. We don’t have the money a lot of times to go to a therapist. I lived all that time in the streets in different parts of Canada. I panhandled, I hooked, I shoplifted-whatever it took to survive. I learned how to go to soup kitchens for food. I found people to crash with because street kids hang together. I call my time in the streets being in the war because that’s what it is. You have to stay aware; you have to take care of yourself; you have to find allies in order to stay alive. I learned about Salvation Army because you could go there and eat. I learned about the Bahai people, only because they served a need for me and not a spiritual need. At that time, it was just not being hungry. Before I turned 19, I had two children. I was blessed that I was able to quell my additions long enough to have my babies. I always had an escape plan. I said if I can’t get a handle on myself with the baby, I’ll just go spit on a cop’s shoes and go to jail for 6 months. By that time my baby will be viable and healthy. Not that you can’t get drugs in jail, cos you can. But I didn’t want to get high in jail. I’m paranoid enough!

In and Out of the YWCA

I wasn’t ready to look at recovery. I was happy where I was. I was making a lot of money; I was staying high and I would go to the Y just to crash and eat. At some point I didn’t enjoy the structure- I wanted to get drunk or high in my own place and so I left. I would go to shelters or hang out in one of trap houses. You’re actually trapped in there. You don’t realize it but you are. It’s a place where people go to buy drugs, do drugs and turn tricks. It’s a place where someone, through social assistance, has been able to keep an apartment.  My place happened to belong to an 80 something year old on pension. I told him “Every time I bring a client in here, I’ll give you 40 bucks to keep.” I also put a TV in there and a VCR or DVD at that time.  He actually had his own addictions. Although I would buy the drugs for me, I would buy the liquor for him. Sometimes I would just be homeless in the street. When the weather was really bad, I used to hail the police cars hoping they would take me to jail. They would just laugh.

So, I went back to the Y. After 20 to 25 years, I decided, I wanted to get out of here. I wanna clean myself up. So I went to numerous 28-day programs, numerous times at detox. But they [the Y] were always open to say “When you get out of detox we’ll find a place for you.”

I applied for the WISH (Women in Supported Housing) program.  It’s for women who don’t have a good rental history that are still fighting with addictions and that people wouldn’t want to rent to. WISH has apartments all over the city. They only have one participant per floor so you don’t run into your demons in the hallway.  After my two years I begged for them to let me stay for another year. I thought, If I don’t have my own apartment, I’ll end up back out there. I knew it. So, they kept me an extra year. We fought all the time though because I didn’t like people coming to bug me every Friday.  Plus, you weren’t allowed to have dogs and I’d had my dog for 15 years. We were homeless together and I wasn’t giving him up. Like I said, I was not always pleasant. I can be confrontational because I felt attacked. From the streets I learned that if you don’t put your back against the wall and come out fighting, you’re lost. Tears on the street is like blood in the water when you’re fighting a shark. Predators can attack you in all different ways. Even if it’s only allowing you to be at their house when they have drugs to share or calling you saying “I’ve got this john and he wants to see someone new” and then they end up taking 50% of that, plus you end up spending your 50% on them anyway.

Back to School

I was 56 when I wanted to return to school. I had to fight for the opportunity. Welfare decided that at my age I was too old to reinvent myself; that I probably wouldn’t get a job. My worker basically said “Listen Amber, they’ve written you off. Let’s just stay on welfare then transfer to disability.”

I said “that’s all well and good but I want to work. I need to feel like I’m doing something useful.”  -

I had to shame the Department of Justice to fund me. They were like “You’re already old. No one is going to hire you because they can’t get the 25 years out of you. We also can’t take the chance with your amount of addictions.”

I had already gone for adult education upgrading at the Native Friendship Centre to try to prove myself. I made a package so that when I went to people for funding, I could show them how I was doing.  I had also started working at another organization called In My Own Voice (IMOVE) artists association working with youth and preparing meals every Friday to feed the community in North end. A co-worker and I also started a Wednesday craft night. I thought I was doing good but I’m getting no, no, no. I was ready to give up and then finally, in court the judge asked if I had anything else to say.  I told the Department of Justice, “listen, how much does it cost to keep me in a correctional centre for year?” At that time, it was around $60,000. I said “All I want is $7000 for school. I know I’m a risk but I will do what I need to do. You can check my attendance. You can make sure I’m going to school.” I was even willing to do a urinalysis.  

Finally, they said “Okay Amber, $3000 is our cap.”

I said “You can lock me up for $60, 000 but all you can give me for school is $3000.  I’ve had to hustle to survive but now I’m trying to find a new career.” After that, I went back and got my holistic veterinary assistance license.

Finding Work

I graduated school but because I had a criminal record and history of drugs, I couldn’t get a job. I was like Why the hell am I doing all this? it doesn’t seem to be advancing my life at all. No one would give me a break because I didn’t have any past work experience that I could write on a resume, you know? Then I ran into a worker from the Y who had worked at an organization that I used to go to called Stepping Stone. It was Charlene Gagnon. She was like “Amber, I think I have a job for you.” It was the Outreach Coordinator for the Uniacke Centre for Community Development. Later on, a job became available at the Y and by that time, I had job experience.  I had proven to the moral majority that you can make a hooker into a housewife!

I’m doing this because I want to, not just be the face of the hooker, but that of a successful woman.   I just want to show that we can do anything no matter our circumstances.  I want people to know that I’m still working on myself but learning how to go about that in the most painless way has been good. Luckily, I’m able to do it unmedicated, I go to a therapist.  I want to be the person that, if someone else is just starting their journey of healing themselves, I will walk with you. I can’t do it for you but my hand will be there if you need to grab a hold of it. I believe any person can do this with the right supports, with the right mindset. It’s not going to be easy. People kick you any chance they get. But the fact that I can help people to go along this path, that’s where my blessings come from.

There’s a lot of other stories. there’s a lot of women who had to sell their bodies to survive but they are not in a safe place to talk about it. I’m safe partially because my kids are in their 50s now. I also have a bunch of grandkids- I was thinking Do I want my grandchildren to know only this part of me or do I want them to know the good part of me?  People will be evil and they can say “oh yah I knew your grandmother when.’’ Secrets are bullets and I’m not loading any one’s gun so I’m not holding any secrets. So, I talked to them about my life in an age-appropriate way and time.

The Y has always supported me even when sometimes I felt like they’re just gonna tell you to f- off. So first I wanna tell the Y thank you. I know that I’ve been a challenge throughout the years but their support has continued. I had a record that dated all the way back to 1975 and the Y helped me with my record expungement so I no longer have a criminal record. I started working with Home for Good about four or five years ago and now I’ve been working with NSTAY for maybe 5 years. I love my job. I could have retired two years ago but my brain can’t retire right yet. Whatever comes to you in life, whatever gifts you receive, its important to spread them around. What’s it called? Paying it forward. So that’s what I’m doing.