Steven Kissack’s presence with his dog Juno in downtown Juneau gave a face and a name to homelessness. Unhoused, though, is more appropriate here: Steve’s home was the streets of Juneau. His status as unhoused is difficult and complicated, and worthy of our attention, as much as is the way he died.
Whatever way we look at the events of last Monday, Steve’s death was a tragedy. We can dwell on the woulda, coulda, shouldas. We can point blame. We can divide. And we can also listen. We can find common ground. We can try to find ways to prevent similar situations from happening again. The one thing we cannot do is reverse the events of last Monday. As in all life events, we have choices here.
Anger can turn into bitterness where we drink the poison and wait for our enemy to die. Or anger can be channeled into turning a tragedy to change. We have a choice; Juneau has a choice. We are small enough that most of us knew Steve and Juno, the human being and his dog. Many of us had positive interactions with him, yes. But others, especially those in authority, didn’t. In many ways Steve was like all of us. Each of us has both a positive side and, if we are honest, a difficult side. None of us is perfect.
In my discussions with a wide range of people, from the homeless served through St. Vincent de Paul to the owners of neighboring businesses, no one thinks Steve’s death is anything but a tragedy. But there are a wide range of opinions. Some siding with the police, some against. I’ve heard some of his friends wish they had been able to do something.
Communication and listening are part of the healing that needs to take place. Those who feel all unhoused people are dangerous might learn something from listening to their stories. They might find that some are generous, giving people who support each other in positive ways despite their lack of resources.
Those who feel all police are out to get the unhoused might learn something from conversations with officials and law enforcement. I have yet to hear any official express anything but sorrow and regret for last Monday’s activities. Healing starts first by hearing each other’s stories before we pass judgment. Steve’s death should start a conversation about us, rather than about them regardless of our life circumstances.
Steve was a human being, and many people ask why any human lives on the streets. The officers who shot him were also human beings, and many people ask how and why they would shoot another human.
We need to listen to each other. We need to heal. Some of that happens with service providers, through experts in grief counseling, and through supportive friends. Later in the process we may need to gather and share our grief and our common humanity.
There are those who want justice. There are those who want changes. Perhaps we need to start by changing our relationships with our community members, taking the time to listen and trying to understand the different points of view. Mother Theresa of Calcutta once scolded the self-righteous, “If you are too busy judging, you don’t have enough time for loving.”
What changes can be done to prevent the tragedy of last Monday from ever taking place again? If we change systems without changing hearts and attitudes there will still be anger, resentment, and fear. If we change hearts and minds, but not the systems, there will still be injustice. Is it an “either-or” or a “both-and” situation?
Change will come through collaboration of many people and many agencies. What will it look like? Perhaps the founder of the Society of St. Vincent de Paul, Frederic Ozanam, had a valuable insight when asked about charity and justice:
Frederic referred to the parable of the Good Samaritan from the Gospel of Luke and explained that Charity is the action of the Samaritan— caring for and healing the wounds of the traveler attacked on the road. Justice is making sure attacks on the road do not happen.
In Rocking Chair Prophet, by Catholic Evangelist Matthew Kelly, the protagonist asks, “What if when you see the word ‘crisis’, you substitute the word ‘opportunity?’” The death of an unhoused man is a crisis, but we can make it an opportunity to come together, learn from each other, and resolve to take steps to prevent such tragedies in our community in the future.
• Dave Ringle is the executive director of St. Vincent de Paul Juneau.
