Hello, my name is Gregory Martin, Vendor Manager for Street Sense. I have been in this position for a little over a month now. You may remember me as a vendor from Gallery Place Metro station, 20 & K or even 18 & K. First of all I would like to thank all of you who bought the paper from me and gave me donations, especially the pastor who gave me monies for my rent deposit, the lady at Gallery Place that would give me $20 dollars and wouldn’t even buy the paper, and the gentleman at 20 & K with his words of wisdom. Your thoughtfulness and generosity were greatly appreciated. Since becoming Vendor Manager I’ve been walking the streets observing vendors. I’ve also been asking customers for their perspectives on how things are done and what we can do to make it better. Your responses have been great, especially when a woman told me she bought a paper from a vendor because of his pretty smile. I have been receiving emails with compliments and complaints and please keep them coming. As some of you may know, I will respond as quickly as I can.
Because I’ve been on both sides of homelessness, I just want to help make this company grow and with my experience I believe we can make it work and make it better. I know the vendors appreciate your donations. As a matter of fact, we are in need of restaurant review donations. If you would like to donate you can email me (gregory@StreetSense.org) or mail it to the office. If you have any comments or suggestions please let me know.
Thank you!
-Gregory Martin, Vendor Manager
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
The Last Word: Comforts of Home
The harsh-sounding bell jangled as it does a hundred times a day here at Street Sense, signaling that a vendor is downstairs, needing to buy papers, needing to come up, maybe make a phone call or ask for a dry pair of socks or write a haiku.
That afternoon, it was volunteer Roberta Haber’s answer the door, so she disappeared down the stairs. When she came back a little while later, she sighed.
It had been one of her favorite vendors, a hardworking guy with a shy, luminous smile and a habit of talking to himself.
After he lost his place at the shelter, he had, in sly, yet urgent contravention
of Street Sense house rules, stowed a duffle bag in the office storage closet.
And when he had rung the bell, he had asked only for a small favor, Roberta explained. “He just wanted to look at his stuff.”
Every night, I turn a key, and a door opens into a small, well ordered place in the world that is mine. I switch on the light and I see my books there, and my couch and chair and rug. My stuff is there, silently greeting me. It is with a sense of gratitude and awe that I enter. I am home.
When the last vestige of home is a bag in a closet, there must still be some comfort in looking at it, touching it, in knowing it’s still there.
Some vendors use some of the dollars they earn selling Street Sense to pay for the storage of their things, what is left of the homes they once had, before they were thrown out or locked up, before they fell behind or got sick. Sometimes they cannot make the payments and lose those things.
I talked to a vendor recently about the loss of the things in his storage unit. He mentioned with the most regret the loss of his notebooks, his writings.
“You are still the poet who wrote those words,” I reminded him. “You will have to rewrite them.”
Are there things to be gained, to be learned, from losing the last vestige, the last comfort of home and then rebuilding, rewriting one’s life? There must be, I thought to myself, hoping his lost words would return to him in a fierce new flame.
--Mary Otto
That afternoon, it was volunteer Roberta Haber’s answer the door, so she disappeared down the stairs. When she came back a little while later, she sighed.
It had been one of her favorite vendors, a hardworking guy with a shy, luminous smile and a habit of talking to himself.
After he lost his place at the shelter, he had, in sly, yet urgent contravention
of Street Sense house rules, stowed a duffle bag in the office storage closet.
And when he had rung the bell, he had asked only for a small favor, Roberta explained. “He just wanted to look at his stuff.”
Every night, I turn a key, and a door opens into a small, well ordered place in the world that is mine. I switch on the light and I see my books there, and my couch and chair and rug. My stuff is there, silently greeting me. It is with a sense of gratitude and awe that I enter. I am home.
When the last vestige of home is a bag in a closet, there must still be some comfort in looking at it, touching it, in knowing it’s still there.
Some vendors use some of the dollars they earn selling Street Sense to pay for the storage of their things, what is left of the homes they once had, before they were thrown out or locked up, before they fell behind or got sick. Sometimes they cannot make the payments and lose those things.
I talked to a vendor recently about the loss of the things in his storage unit. He mentioned with the most regret the loss of his notebooks, his writings.
“You are still the poet who wrote those words,” I reminded him. “You will have to rewrite them.”
Are there things to be gained, to be learned, from losing the last vestige, the last comfort of home and then rebuilding, rewriting one’s life? There must be, I thought to myself, hoping his lost words would return to him in a fierce new flame.
--Mary Otto
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Grayer Times
After glancing at this issue of Street Sense or the previous one, some of you might have wondered if something has changed. You might have questioned: “Why is my paper so thin?”, “Why does it look so gray?” or “Is this paper smaller?”
Well, something has changed. As you have read, here in this publication and in various other media, the economy looks bleaker every day and these tough times are hitting all individuals and businesses hard. And nonprofits like Street Sense are not immune. As the Catch–22 of social services nonprofits goes, in a bad economy demand for services rises, but the money to fund such services becomes scarcer.
Street Sense has seen its vendor numbers increase 35% over the past year, with circulation increasing by nearly 30%. Yet at the end of 2008, individual donations, while numerous, were not nearly as large as past years. Grant income also fell short. And many predict both of these areas of nonprofit income will only get worse in 2009.
To prepare Street Sense for a worst–case financial scenario in 2009, we decided to cut back on our expenses. That’s where the changes to the actual newspaper came in. We decided to shrink the paper by an inch vertically, only shrinking the printable area by half an inch. We also decided to switch from bright white 35 lb. paper to a 20 lb. newsprint paper, the kind we used when we first started publishing Street Sense.
These two small changes will save the organization about $450 each issue, or more than $11,000 a year. And with a budget of just over $205,000 for 2009, $11,000 is a nice little chunk of change to save. While losing color on the front, back and center would also have saved money, we decided it was important to keep, helping with visibility and vendor sales.
So yes, Street Sense may look a little grayer and smaller than it has it the past, but you are still getting your dollar’s worth and then some as our editorial content — I think — has been better than ever, with hard–hitting news stories and unique features. Also each time you buy a paper, you can be confident that even more of our resources, and yours, will go directly to empowering our vendors rather than to aesthetics.
--Laura Thomspon Osuri
Well, something has changed. As you have read, here in this publication and in various other media, the economy looks bleaker every day and these tough times are hitting all individuals and businesses hard. And nonprofits like Street Sense are not immune. As the Catch–22 of social services nonprofits goes, in a bad economy demand for services rises, but the money to fund such services becomes scarcer.
Street Sense has seen its vendor numbers increase 35% over the past year, with circulation increasing by nearly 30%. Yet at the end of 2008, individual donations, while numerous, were not nearly as large as past years. Grant income also fell short. And many predict both of these areas of nonprofit income will only get worse in 2009.
To prepare Street Sense for a worst–case financial scenario in 2009, we decided to cut back on our expenses. That’s where the changes to the actual newspaper came in. We decided to shrink the paper by an inch vertically, only shrinking the printable area by half an inch. We also decided to switch from bright white 35 lb. paper to a 20 lb. newsprint paper, the kind we used when we first started publishing Street Sense.
These two small changes will save the organization about $450 each issue, or more than $11,000 a year. And with a budget of just over $205,000 for 2009, $11,000 is a nice little chunk of change to save. While losing color on the front, back and center would also have saved money, we decided it was important to keep, helping with visibility and vendor sales.
So yes, Street Sense may look a little grayer and smaller than it has it the past, but you are still getting your dollar’s worth and then some as our editorial content — I think — has been better than ever, with hard–hitting news stories and unique features. Also each time you buy a paper, you can be confident that even more of our resources, and yours, will go directly to empowering our vendors rather than to aesthetics.
--Laura Thomspon Osuri
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
The Last Word: Peace for Vets
An amazing event? I
never would have
dreamed it! “It is
a time for change,” said Barack
Obama, the nation’s
first African American president.
The country is hoping
for better times ahead. In
the meantime, God only
knows what is taking place
on earth. Israel is attacking Gaza, bad weather, days of hard rain,
young African American men killing each other.
However, it will be an Obama–Jam at the capital this month, with
all the big names, Oprah and all the other stars.
Hopefully there will be local change also. A former U.S. Army
Green Beret, a war veteran awarded the Silver Star and the Purple
Heart found himself homeless. He was an African American, facing
unemployment with bad times and trouble adjusting back home.
Living on the streets of Washington, D.C. two blocks from the
White House, the flashbacks are gone but the tough times are still
here. So with this new Administration that calls for change, let’s hope
that this combat vet will find peace. And we as a people will find the
Promised Land.
--James Fetherson
never would have
dreamed it! “It is
a time for change,” said Barack
Obama, the nation’s
first African American president.
The country is hoping
for better times ahead. In
the meantime, God only
knows what is taking place
on earth. Israel is attacking Gaza, bad weather, days of hard rain,
young African American men killing each other.
However, it will be an Obama–Jam at the capital this month, with
all the big names, Oprah and all the other stars.
Hopefully there will be local change also. A former U.S. Army
Green Beret, a war veteran awarded the Silver Star and the Purple
Heart found himself homeless. He was an African American, facing
unemployment with bad times and trouble adjusting back home.
Living on the streets of Washington, D.C. two blocks from the
White House, the flashbacks are gone but the tough times are still
here. So with this new Administration that calls for change, let’s hope
that this combat vet will find peace. And we as a people will find the
Promised Land.
--James Fetherson
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Street Sense Angel
“Believe me, it will all work out in the end.”
That’s a phrase I have often uttered to many a Street Sense staff member, intern and volunteer. And most of the time I get a roll-of-the-eyes kind of a response as the person continues to worry.
But after being at Street Sense for a long time you really do come to truly believe in the above quote. You continue to work your hardest, but simply stop stressing so much.
Ever since the beginning of Street Sense, things have always worked out, even if the breakthrough comes sometimes just a few hours from deadline. Sometimes the challenge is not having enough articles to fill the pages. Then a random volunteer comes through with a first-class article. Other times there is barely enough money to make payroll. Then the next day a hefty check for unsolicited grant comes in the mail. Things just work out.
Co-founder Ted Henson and I like to refer to these last minute mini-miracles as the work of the “Street Sense Angel.”
Yes, if you are wondering, I am religious, and I do abide by a saying at my church: “Work like it depends on you, and pray like it depends on God.” And while I do think that God has a hand in these inexplicable events, I do not think of a higher power when I refer to the “Street Sense Angel.”
This Angel is not a single being but the commitment and passion from many angels that make up all of the supporters of Street Sense.
It’s the volunteer who randomly appears the day before the new issue to gracefully layout out two pages
It’s the donor who decided to contribute 10% of her last paycheck to Street Sense.
It’s the intern who shows up on her day off to help get subscriptions out on time.
It’s the board member who adopts, at the last minute, several vendors for Christmas to make sure everyone gets a gift
It’s the reader who tracked down a vendor’s family to turn the vendor’s Christmas Eve into the best one ever.
You are the Street Sense Angel. And without you there would be a whole lot more worry and stress and far fewer newspapers and vendors at Street Sense.
So if you feel prompted to write a large check for Street Sense in the middle of your regular work day or you are prompted to volunteer some amazing talent to Street Sense for no particular reason or if you simply just feel prompted to write a kind email about a vendor, please do not resist. It’s the Street Sense Angel calling you, and whatever you have to offer is filling some great need you probably don’t even know about but will be crucial in making it “all work out in the end.”
--Laura Thomspon Osuri
That’s a phrase I have often uttered to many a Street Sense staff member, intern and volunteer. And most of the time I get a roll-of-the-eyes kind of a response as the person continues to worry.
But after being at Street Sense for a long time you really do come to truly believe in the above quote. You continue to work your hardest, but simply stop stressing so much.
Ever since the beginning of Street Sense, things have always worked out, even if the breakthrough comes sometimes just a few hours from deadline. Sometimes the challenge is not having enough articles to fill the pages. Then a random volunteer comes through with a first-class article. Other times there is barely enough money to make payroll. Then the next day a hefty check for unsolicited grant comes in the mail. Things just work out.
Co-founder Ted Henson and I like to refer to these last minute mini-miracles as the work of the “Street Sense Angel.”
Yes, if you are wondering, I am religious, and I do abide by a saying at my church: “Work like it depends on you, and pray like it depends on God.” And while I do think that God has a hand in these inexplicable events, I do not think of a higher power when I refer to the “Street Sense Angel.”
This Angel is not a single being but the commitment and passion from many angels that make up all of the supporters of Street Sense.
It’s the volunteer who randomly appears the day before the new issue to gracefully layout out two pages
It’s the donor who decided to contribute 10% of her last paycheck to Street Sense.
It’s the intern who shows up on her day off to help get subscriptions out on time.
It’s the board member who adopts, at the last minute, several vendors for Christmas to make sure everyone gets a gift
It’s the reader who tracked down a vendor’s family to turn the vendor’s Christmas Eve into the best one ever.
You are the Street Sense Angel. And without you there would be a whole lot more worry and stress and far fewer newspapers and vendors at Street Sense.
So if you feel prompted to write a large check for Street Sense in the middle of your regular work day or you are prompted to volunteer some amazing talent to Street Sense for no particular reason or if you simply just feel prompted to write a kind email about a vendor, please do not resist. It’s the Street Sense Angel calling you, and whatever you have to offer is filling some great need you probably don’t even know about but will be crucial in making it “all work out in the end.”
--Laura Thomspon Osuri
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