final manuscript

"It was a cold and blustery Wednesday morning on February 9, 1972. The high temperature that day struggled to reach twenty-three degrees, and the relentless winds offered no retreat. It was on this very day that I was brought into the world. I have heard that I was born breech. I came into this world shoulder first. My umbilical cord was wrapped around my shoulder and my neck. When the nurses untangled me, I was still a shade of blue. I have never found out why, but I was born with no middle name. There were four people at the hospital that day. They were eagerly awaiting my arrival. One of these four people was my grandpa. When he saw me for the first time, he said, “Look at our brand new baby blue jay!” And just like that, I had my middle name. Little did I know then, the significance of this very name would later play a profound role in shaping my life's path. My grandparents were present that day because they had lovingly agreed to help raise me. My mother and father, of course, were also present. That Wednesday afternoon must have been the purest joy of my life. I was born into a world where both my parents and grandparents were there, waiting for me. Sadly, this beautiful gathering would prove to be the last.

You see, after leaving the hospital, I was taken to a house where I was an unwanted child, a place where abuse, neglect, and sexual assault would become my harsh reality. My father, after a mere four long, miserable days with me, decided to leave, returning to his hometown in Iowa. I wouldn't see him again for another eight years. My mother, battling alcoholism, was also present in that house, and soon after arriving, I began to suffer abuse, neglect, and profound mistreatment."

 My mom was an alcoholic for as long as I can remember. This is who I was going to live with and be raised by. I don't remember very much of my early childhood. I have been told it was not pleasant at all.

 I already had a brother that was 14 months older than I was. My Brother being her first born he had the number one status. He was the king of the house.

 It was July 1975 that my baby sister was born. She was the new blond haired, blue eyed princess of the house. Now I have an older brother and a younger sister. My brother was the king of the house and my little sister was the princess.

 Im only 3 years old when I get my first taste of a stereotype. For no other reason than being the middle child, I am labeled as an outcast. A bad child. I am sure that being the middle child, I had to act out to get attention. I'm sure it was never good attention but nevertheless I had to somehow make myself not feel like this invisible shell of a boy.

 My very first memory was getting spanked, beat for trying to look in a birds nest.

 I can't remember much until i was in third grade. I do remember moving a lot . I think I remember staying with relatives a couple times. Always remembered having a dog..

 It was the dog house I was playing around. I was digging by the dog house when at 6 years old, more than likely trying to mimic a digging dog, I dug into the ground deep enough to uncover a hornet's nest.

 I remember screaming. I remember the non stop pain. I remember people taking my clothes off to get the hornets out of my socks and underwear. Everything went dark.

 I don't know if I went by ambulance or personal vehicle, I was rushed to the ER. With over 500 stings I spent the next two to three weeks sitting in a wading pool full of baking soda and water.

 This is a memory that still today is vivid. The pain I experienced that day,. The pain that I didn't deserve to be duplicated ever again..

 Unfortunately, the pain I felt that day was just the beginning of what real pain feels like. 

 My mom was an alcoholic for as long as I can remember. This is who I was going to live with and be raised by. I don't remember very much of my early childhood. I have been told  it was not pleasant at all.
I already had a brother that was 14 months older than I was. My Brother being her first born he had the number one status. He was the king of the house.
It was July 1975 that my baby sister was born. She was the new blond haired, blue eyed princess of the house. Now I have an older brother and a younger sister. My brother was the king of the house and my little sister was the princess.
Im only 3 years old when I get my first taste of a stereotype. For no other reason than being the middle child,  I am labeled as an outcast. A bad child.  I am sure that being the middle child, I had to act out to get attention.  I'm sure it was never good attention but nevertheless I had to somehow make myself not feel like this invisible shell of a boy.
My very first memory was getting spanked, beat for trying to look in a birds nest.
I can't  remember much  until i was in third grade. I do remember moving a lot . I think I remember staying with relatives a couple times. Always remembered having a dog..
It was the dog house I was playing around. I was digging by the dog house when at 6 years old,  more than likely trying to mimic a digging dog, I dug into  the ground deep enough to uncover a hornet's nest.
I remember screaming. I remember the non stop pain.  I remember people taking my clothes off  to get the hornets  out of my socks and underwear. Everything went dark.
I don't know if I went by ambulance or personal vehicle, I was rushed to the ER. With over 500 stings I spent the next two to three weeks sitting in a wading pool full of baking soda and water.
This is a memory that still today is vivid. The pain I experienced that day,. The pain that I didn't deserve to be duplicated ever again..
Unfortunately,  the pain I felt that day was just the beginning of what real pain feels like.
 I was taken from the hospital as a baby to the basement of my grandparents house on South 3rd Street. Whether it was a home or not I will never know.

 My grandparents took me under their wings from day one. I am positive that my grandma introduced me to my first and only home here on earth, which was church, at a very early age.

 Church began to teach me a lot about the Lord and who I am to him. Now that I am 48 years old and I look back, this is also where I began my training.

 Love, Fellowship, and basically family could be found at church. Learning of great leaders, learning of disciples, learning how to walk the way of the Lord impressed me. I wanted to become one of his angels.

 I had learned of great mansions built in heaven for those that God chooses to call home. God knows our plans even before we are born. I believe that God put me on a path of homelessness so that I have the opportunity to be where I'm at today.

 Jesus said let the children flock to him and do not hinder them for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

 At 8 years old as an innocent child I was taken from God without the knowledge of his word. My body was ravaged and my soul was broken. This is when I believe I was granted everlasting life and chosen to be be an angel for god.

 At 8 years old I was not fully an angel, but I believe that's when I got my Nubs. I have a long ways to go before I ever earn my angel wings. I continued going to church until I was 15 years old with my grandmother.

 The path that I was put on in my life has been pure hell. But my path has a true meaning. My path is a path that I want to make better for all. Now I want to stay on the homeless path, but for the reason that I'm called.

 Not a single person deserves to go through some of the trauma I had to suffer growing up. My job as a volunteer is to help others no matter what. I want to use my life experience to change the live of many. I also want to be a protector of those in danger.

 I want to be like a good Samson. I want to be a fearless leader that fights for our homeless communities. I want to be a fearless voice like the loudest trumpets played from angels.

 I believe that the path God has chosen for me to be put on from birth. The path he kept me on. The path that has changed into the person I am today. This path is the only path for me.

 So meaning of God's children are hated here on Earth just because they are in a predicament. I am one of those people. This is why I have decided to try to change the face of homelessness.

 I am certainly not trying to change the face of homelessness for me, but for the many of God's children who suffer. Most of all I do what I do for my maker.

 I feel that no matter what God throws at me at this point I can handle it. I love to overcome not just for myself but for others. I know this path is never going to be pleasant here on Earth. But this path that I am on that was chosen for me as a final destination.

 I believe that when God is through with me here on this Earth. It is my hope that the path I am on leads straight to the door of one of those magical mansions in heaven.

It is in my heart and it is in my belief set one God decides to call me I will fly higher and faster than any Angel because finally it will be my turn.

I am going home!!

 I started going to Sunday school with my Grandma at a early age. We would go most Sundays. I really liked going to Sunday school. 

 Everybody there seemed so nice. We would get good snacks. Sometimes even ice cream.I was starting to make friends.

 I paid attention in Sunday School. I am learning about Giants getting defeated with a single pebble. I got to learn of a man who had two of every animal on a great big boat. I even learned of a man who could split the sea.

  Samson was my favorite. He was so strong and powerful. He was a judge and a great leader. He fought for people. He fought till the very end and got revenge. I wanted to be like him. I tried to grow muscles.

 As I get a little older, I started going to church and Bible study with Grandma. Not only was this time I to spend with Grandma, I get to spend time in this giant house.

 A beatiful house where everyone seemed to love one another. Everyone sang and was happy.

 Of course the lessons in church and bible study are a lot harder than Sunday School I still tried to take in as much as I could.

 I think that personally the most important lesson I learned is that our body is a Holy Temple that shall be filled with the love of the Holy Spirit. As long as you don't destroy your temple it is your personal dwelling. 

I loved that because no matter whose house I was at. No matter what was happening.. I can always seek shelter within my own Temple. 

 If I took care of my temple, kept it full of love and the holy spirit. Keep going to church. I knew tthat when my time on Earth is. over I have the most awesome place ever waiting for me.

 I would learn verses, and receipt in front of everyone. Grandma was proud of me. I was happy.

 The church would serve meals at the food kitchen. I would help Grandma cook, and then I would go be a server with her. We would also deliver meals to houses. 

 I continued going to church with her until I turned 15. 

I love you grandma

When I was a child, I spent alot of time at my grandparents house. I spent all the time that I could at their house. The happiest times of my childhood was with them.

They showed me lots of love. They were not abusive towards me. I was safe and comfortable there. This is the place where I was welcomed with open arms, hugs and kisses. 

Being at their house came with a price. Some of my cousins started saying I was the favorite, the family pet, the only one they liked, and so on. Then I catch wind some of some of the adults feel the same. It damaged me even worse than I already was.

  I loved and honored both my grandparents so much. The older I would get the more I would do for them. I would clean the yard, help pick vegetables out of the garden, shovel snow and even paint their house. I would anything for them.

 They were teaching me life skills and lessons. Most of what they taught me I still utilize in my life. They were both giving me life.

 Grandpa was my father figure. We would go fishing on Sundays. At the crack of dawn or even before we would be at the water. Some Sundays we would go after church.

 No matter the time of year it was he always Christmas rock candy. He would me tall tales about and life while rock candy. He was helping my imagination grow and giving me great memories.

 He also took me hunting to teach me to hunt. The first few times I was the dog. I will walk beside him as he was teaching me and I would fetch the game after he shot it. I learned to clean and prepare our bounty.  

 My grandma was a wonderful cook. I spent time in the kitchen helping her cook. I was learning recipes, techniques, and more. We made it all. Candies, pies, cakes, ice cream, even homemade horseradish. I credit her for my cooking ability.

 Grandma liked to do word puzzles and watch game shows on television. That's what we did after dinner. With some of her word puzzles and game shows this is why I started figuring things out learning to solve problems. We would write letters to people in prison.

 All the love, all the happiness all the life skills all the lessons i was learning while I was there was only temporary. I never lived with them. I always had to go back to my moms.

 I was 14 or 15 when Grandma went to Heaven. Ii think I was 18 when Grandpa followed her. Before Grandpa left to join her I had a hard lesson to learn...

My mom had the disease of alcoholism. She was an alcoholic for as long as I can remember. I was being raised by an alcoholic. When my mom would drink, she would become extremely abusive. I don't remember very much of my early childhood, or childhood in general. I'm sure I blacked out a lot. I have been told by family members my childhood was not pleasant at all.

Our family consisted of my mom, my older brother, my younger sister, and myself. My brother was 14 months older than I was. Being the firstborn, he had the number one status. He was the king of the house who could do no wrong. My sister was three years younger than I was. She was the blonde-haired, blue-eyed princess.

I was only three years old when I got my first taste of what a stereotype is. For no other reason than being the middle child of the family, I was labeled as an outcast. My brother and my sister made it a habit to always blame me when something happened. I am sure that being a middle child, I had to act out now and then to get attention.

I'm sure it was never good attention I was getting, but nevertheless, I had to somehow make myself not feel like this invisible shell of a boy—the left-out, unworthy middle child.

One of my very first memories was getting spanked, or, for better words, beaten, for trying to look at a bird's nest. I was thrown into the shower, and that's where I received my punishment.

I certainly cannot recall very much at all growing up. I guess I started retaining some memories right around the fourth grade. I do remember that we were always moving. I think I remember staying with relatives more than a couple of times. I'm not sure if it was because I was an unruly, unmanageable, horrible child. I'm sure it was all my fault.

I always remembered having some sort of a dog. We were living across the street from Foursquare Church in the South end of Saint Joseph. I do not recall if we had a dog, but there was a dog house in the side yard. I'm not sure if I was five or six years old, but I was playing around this dog house. I was digging by the dog house, more than likely trying to mimic a digging dog. I dug into the ground deep enough to uncover a hornet's nest.

I do not remember anything about this day other than people taking my clothes off to get the hornets out of my socks and underwear. Everything went completely dark after that. I don't know if I went by ambulance or personal vehicle. I was rushed to the emergency room. I do not know how many times that I was stung. The first memory I have after the hornets attacked me was laying in one of those little blue swimming pools.

I was across the street from where we lived at Sister Mayberry's house. She was the Reverend of the church that my grandma and I were members of. Her house was directly behind the church. I remember her pouring white powder into the swimming pool. And that is the last memory I have.

The excruciating pain that I must have experienced from getting attacked by ground hornets had to be a physical pain no one deserves. This experience was only the beginning of what real pain feels like.

I wondered my whole life why I was given the name Tracy. It is basically a female name. I would be made fun of in school for having such a name. It bothered me so much that teachers would call me T.J. to help curb the bullying.

 Some of my early classmates would get to know me as T.J. Some who have moved away probably never even got to know my real name.

 My grandpa told me a story. I am not sure if it was one of his tall tales or if it could possibly be the truth.

 He told me that one night he was driving along the Platte River through a town called Tracy. He told me that he was very hungry and that he had hit a bullfrog on the highway with his car. He took this bullfrog into a local Diner in the town of Tracy.

 He was wondering if someone in that diner could cook the bullfrog for him. He told me as the cook came from the kitchen into the diner that he fell in love at first sight. 

 The cook that was in the kitchen, the one who decided to cook a bullfrog was my grandma. He told me this is why I was named Tracy. I was named after the place where they first met.

 Most definitely what he told me gives me a little pride to carry the name Tracy. I mean to be named after a place where they met was awesome. Not to mention the fact I already knew he was the one to give me my middle name.

 Today I have figured out the entire meaning, purpose and value of my name. My name alone never had a place to call home because to me, it seemed for years that I didn't really like my name.

 My first name Tracy now represents both male and female. Tracy represents hunger because my grandpa was hungry when he hit a frog. It most definitely represents love because he fell in love with my grandma. But most importantly it represents a community because I was named after a town.

 My middle name Jay given to me by my grandpa has extreme value as well. My middle name to me represents race. For a Blue Jay is born a black bird. How could I ever be racist with such a name? 

 My middle name represents the Fierce voice of a bird that protects its family. Most of all my middle name represents change. It is the Blue Jay that changes from a blackbird to the most beautiful recognizable bird in the world!

To me, I have the most powerful, the most meaningful the most valuable name I have ever heard of. A name that represents their fearless voice for change.

 As I mentioned in the beginning it was on that Wednesday afternoon in 1972 when I made my first appearance into this world. As I begin this new life the first breath of air I took was as an incomplete baby. I was born with the name Tracy Gillespie. 

 There was a man in that room awaiting my arrival. As soon as he laid his eyes on me the first words he ever spoke to me were, "Look at my new Baby Blue Jay!" That comment completed who I was to be known as. 

This man gave me my very first gift. He gave me my middle name. I became Tracy Jay Gillespie. 

 

 This gift came from a man who I would learn to love, the Deep respect I would have for him, the only man I would ever look up to, this is the man I would soon be calling my Grandpa.

 When I was born I was born breech, I was told that I came out shoulder first and the umbilical cord was wrapped around my neck. I was blue when I was born and that's why Grandpa called me a baby blue jay. 

Not only was I born without having a fully completed name. I was born into a world where I would never experience a safe and secure home. I was born to be put on the path of homelessness.

 I began migrating through my life experiencing things that kept me on that homeless path. I begin to let my imagination wander freely and it starts to grow and expand. My outside of the box thinking process looking for answers and solutions also magnifies. 

It takes me forty six and a half years to start putting things together and finally I began to figure out who I was.

 The Blue Jay is one of our largest, loudest and boldest song birds. The intelligence of a Blue Jay is the highest among songbirds. The Blue Jay is the most recognizable songbird in America.

The Blue Jay is loyal and protective of its family. Blue Jays protect each other with their loud screams. They start life off as a blackbird and this is why they have a black brindle on their head.

 The more that I am learning about the Blue Jay. The more I started understanding its complexity, things really started to come together. I could not help but wonder if this was the real reason Grandpa gave me such a gift?

 When you see our Blue Jay the biblical meaning is to start communicating well, be persistent and plan for the future.  

 A Blue Jay spirit animal encourages you to speak your mind and not keep things bottled up. It means to fight not just for yourself but for others.

 Not only did Grandpa see that Baby Blue Jay on February 9th 1972. He had to know my true calling. What I thought was the gift of a middle name was so much more than that.

 My middle name is what gives me confidence, strength and courage to do what I do. When Grandpa completed who I was to be known as, he started who and what I have become.

 He gave the world his Advocate!

 The first ever documented case of homelessness that I can find is the birth of Jesus Christ. This baby was born in a manger on a pile of hay with Beast by his side.

The King Philip's War also known as the Great Indian War of 1675 and 1676 created homelessness in America. Colonies were forced from their homes. They had to seek shelter and refuge along the coastlines and in the timbers.

I n colonial times English "vagrants"were considered outcast and sought by the police. Almshouses were built for housing these individuals. Almshouses started out basically as mental institutions. They slowly transformed into homeless sheltes.I

 In 1861 during the Civil War was also a factor in people becoming homeless. Homes were destroyed during this war and soldiers would be called transits as they search for food. Homelessness has never 100 percent recovered.

 In 1870 Jacob Riis A Scottish photographer was the first ever documented American homeless individual. He would travel with a band of vagrants seeking employment in the United States. He was homeless for 3 years.

Homelessness did not become a national issue until 1870. The lack of employment during these times caused people to pillage the hillsides for food. This is when the words like Pillagers, bumbs, hoboes, vagabonds, and so on were born.

 The first Great Depression in 1930 created a significant rise in homelessness. Homeless people started staying in emerging cities like New York and San Francisco. They were really seeking employment.

 World War 1 and World War II were contributors to people becoming homeless. Soldiers would return home to find that their wife had moved along. Also the women could not maintain housing all alone.

 Homelessness to this point had almost been eradicated. After each historical moment the economy would recover. People never chose to become homeless.

 The Housing and Urban Development Act of 1955 created what is now known as the Housing and Urban Development, which was born in 1965. This agencies sole purpose was to combat homelessness on a government level.

 In 1982 the great Reaganomics speech made homelessness permanent in America. It was at this point that 40% of all funding was cut to the Housing and Urban Development. Ronald Reagan believed that all churches should adopt 10 homeless families and that that would end homelessness.E very year since 1982 funding has been cut to the HUD programs upwards of 80%. At the same time homelessness has become a national crisis.

 Since 1982 upwards of 50,000 people have died in the streets in America. They died of natural causes, suicide, homicide, and hypothermia. Each one of these deaths could have been prevented if the HUD agency had funding available.

 I just thought I'd like to share a couple facts with everyone this morning. The facts you are about to learn or directly related to homelessness. Individuals have been experiencing homelessness since colonial times. If you ended up homeless during the colonial times, there were houses that were built called alms houses. People experiencing homelessness were allowed to live and work in the alms houses. If you were homeless you were still accepted in these times. There were no stigmas or stereotypes.

Throughout history societies and cultures begin to change. And so does the way people start to perceive homelessness. Individuals who were homeless started to become more and more rejected in society.

The Housing and Urban Developments definition of homeless is anyone who sleeps in the streets, anyone who sleeps in a homeless shelter, or anyone that stays in a dwelling not meant for human habitation. This is the guidelines that agencies across the Nation follow to determine if a person is actually homeless.

Being homeless has affected a wide variety of people. Many of the actors and actresses we love to watch have experience being homeless. A couple of our presidents have experienced homelessness. Dr. Phil, Oprah Winfrey and many many more celebrities have had a taste of homelessness.

Homelessness is even talked about in the Bible. Jesus Christ spent most of his life homeless.

1.) There are enough homeless people in the United States to fill five football stadiums.

2.) 2.5 million children experience being homeless annually.

3.) There are tens of thousands of homeless veterans. 

 4.) The number one cause for homelessness among women is domestic violence.

5.) A chronic homeless individual has spent at least 12 months out of 36 being homeless.

6.) A Continuum of Care (CoC) is a local body that coordinates housing and resources for our homeless.

7.) The latest numbers show that upwards at 30% of our homeless suffer from mental illness

8.) Thousands of our homeless die on the streets annually. 

9.) Agencies use the housing first model to house homeless individuals.

10.) There are different housing options based on risk factors. There are enough homeless people in the United States to fill five football stadiums.

11.) At least 50% of women who are homeless are fleeing sexual or domestic abuse. 

12.) 30,000 homeless are beaten or killed in the streets just because they're homeless.

13.) 37,500 Veterans were homeless in 2019.

14.) 2.5 to 3.5 million people experience being homeless annually. 15.) 1000 homeless in L.A. alone, died in the streets in 2019.

16.) Thousands have died across the nation in the streets.

 Glossary of Key Concepts in Homelessness, Trauma, and Recovery

Each term below reflects a critical dimension of the lived experience and systemic challenges faced by individuals navigating homelessness, mental health, and recovery. This glossary is designed to foster understanding, compassion, and informed action.

1. 🏚️ Homelessness

Living in housing below minimum standards or lacking secure tenure. Includes individuals sleeping in places not designed for human habitation, such as vehicles, parks, or abandoned buildings.

2. 🔄 Complexity

A system with many interconnected parts whose interactions produce outcomes greater than the sum of their parts. Understanding homelessness requires a complex systems lens to address overlapping causes and effects.

3. 🧠 Social Stereotype

An overgeneralized belief about a group of people. Stereotypes about homelessness often perpetuate stigma and hinder empathy and policy reform.

4. 🚫 Social Stigma

Disapproval or discrimination based on characteristics that set someone apart from societal norms. Stigma around mental illness, addiction, and homelessness can lead to isolation and systemic neglect.

5. 💊 Addiction

Compulsive engagement with substances or behaviors despite harmful consequences. Addiction may exist with or without physical dependence.

6. 💥 Trauma

Can be physical (major injury) or psychological (emotional damage from distressing events). Trauma is both a cause and consequence of homelessness.

7. 🚬 Substance Abuse

Use of drugs in harmful ways, affecting the individual and others. Often intertwined with trauma, mental illness, and survival strategies.

8. 🧩 Mental Illness

Patterns of behavior or thought that cause distress or impair functioning. May be episodic or chronic, and often misunderstood or untreated in homeless populations.

9. 🧬 Characteristics

Traits or qualities that define a person, place, or thing. In advocacy, understanding individual characteristics helps tailor trauma-informed care.

10. ❄️ Frostbite

Freezing of skin or tissues due to exposure to cold. Common among unsheltered individuals lacking adequate protection.

11. 🍽️ Hunger

Persistent lack of access to sufficient food. Chronic hunger affects physical and mental health, especially in children and elders.

12. 💧 Dehydration

Insufficient water intake to replace loss through normal processes or illness. A silent but dangerous condition among people without access to clean water.

13. 🛡️ Trauma-Informed Care

An approach that recognizes the impact of trauma and creates safe, empowering environments for healing. Essential in shelters, clinics, and outreach programs.

14. 🦶 Trench Foot

Injury from prolonged exposure to damp, unsanitary, and cold conditions. Preventable with proper footwear and hygiene, yet common in street homelessness.

15. 🍷 Alcoholic

A person whose alcohol use causes mental or physical health problems. Labels like “alcoholic” can carry stigma; person-first language is preferred.

16. ⚠️ Sexual Abuse

Non-consensual sexual behavior, often involving force or manipulation. Survivors may face compounded trauma, especially when justice and support systems fail.

17. 🏠 Domestic Violence

Abuse within intimate or familial relationships. A leading cause of homelessness, especially among women and children.

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