My Last Day at ROOTS

...182 days to go...

Just before the holidays, I was asked not to return to my volunteer role at ROOTS Young Adult Shelter. The reason? I shared a draft of a blog post I’d written with ROOTS’ executive director, asking for her feedback before publication.

I was, and remain, pretty shocked.

I’ve always thought of this year as an opportunity to learn publicly by asking tough questions as an outsider. The blog exists so others can learn alongside me, if they’re interested. I’ve tried to bring the same analytical approach I used at Amazon to understanding homelessness - examining data, testing assumptions, and sharing what I discover.

Sadly, not everyone wants to be asked tough questions.

Let me explain what happened.

The draft began by describing an interaction I’d observed at the shelter - a young guest not following one of the shelter’s rules and, in my initial reaction at least, not seeming particularly grateful for the support ROOTS was offering him. I didn’t use his name or identifying details.

But I didn’t stop there. The entire point of the post was to push back against my own initial reaction. I walked through the context that might explain his behavior: Many young adults at ROOTS are former foster kids who’ve never had stable parental support. ROOTS requires guests to leave between 8am and 9pm, meaning this young man may have spent his entire day in the literal cold, dark, and rain. Mental illness and substance abuse are common among ROOTS’ population, though certainly not universal, and the shelter welcomes young adults experiencing these conditions.

I concluded that while his behavior was disappointing on its face, it was pretty understandable when you actually thought about the circumstances he might have been facing. I even made a comparison to my daughter Natalie, who also occasionally violates the rules in my house, and noted the absurdity of forcing compliance with every rule as a condition of shelter under my roof.

The post was an exercise in seeking understanding, in checking my own privilege and assumptions - and in challenging readers to do the same.

ROOTS saw it differently.

ROOTS’ executive director wrote that presenting an isolated negative incident could perpetuate harmful stereotypes. She informed me I would be removed from ROOTS’ volunteer roster because the organization “needs to ensure that those who enter our space lead with clarity and compassion.”

Let me be clear: I have enormous respect for the work ROOTS is doing. They fill a critical need for young adults experiencing homelessness, providing not just beds but case management, nursing support, and a pathway to stability. Their services are deeply needed, and I encourage any readers to continue supporting them.

But I couldn’t believe how differently we saw this draft post.

While I agree that sharing negative stories without context can perpetuate stereotypes, this post was attempting precisely the opposite - offering important context that many housed people, including my past self, might not have considered. The whole point was to challenge the “ungrateful homeless person” narrative, not reinforce it.

I also felt the accusation that I lacked compassion was harsh, particularly given this was a request for feedback on a draft, not something I’d actually posted. I’d explicitly written that I wanted to make sure it wouldn’t harm any guests and that I wouldn’t publish unless leadership was comfortable with it. And that’s why I’m not sharing any specifics about the story here.

ROOTS’ executive director is right about at least one thing: I’m obviously an outsider to the world of homelessness. I had two involved parents, attended independent schools, received financial help buying my first home, and worked at Amazon. As a result, of course I don’t always use the right words or think about things in the right ways. All I know for sure is that I want to help.

There are many people who are more compassionate, and more educated about homelessness, than me. I’ve met them this year at every organization I’ve worked with. Some have devoted their entire professional lives to this cause, which certainly dwarfs my single-year commitment. Others are simply passionate volunteers who show up week after week.

But here’s what troubles me most: If organizations eject people like me for perceived lack of compassion - volunteers who are trying to learn, who are asking for feedback, who are genuinely attempting to understand and help - I don’t know how many supporters will be left.

I shared these concerns with the executive director in an email almost three weeks ago. I explained my perspective and intentions with the draft post. But I never heard back.

Homelessness is an enormous problem in Seattle. We have roughly 10,000 homeless neighbors on any given night, with perhaps three times that experiencing homelessness at some point during the year. The need vastly exceeds available resources.

We need as many committed volunteers, donors, and nonprofit employees as we can find. We need people who are willing to set a 5:30am alarm to show up for a 6:30am breakfast shift. We need people who will write checks. We need people who will ask uncomfortable questions and wrestle publicly with their own assumptions.

My hope in sharing this experience is not to criticize ROOTS. I genuinely believe their decision came from a place of passion for protecting the community they serve. But I do think it raises important questions about how nonprofits engage with imperfect allies.

I believe my readers are smart enough to form the right opinions, even when my presentation is imperfect. I believe that talking about homelessness publicly necessarily involves some risk of harm, but that not talking about it is much worse. I believe there is a place for asking tough questions, for examining our assumptions, for learning in public.

We can’t afford to fight amongst ourselves. There is too much work to do.