Letters in the street:

A narrative based outreach approach

by

Joel Glenn Wixson
1


[This article first appeared in Gecko: A Journal of Deconstruction and Narrative
Ideas in Therapeutic Practice, 2000, no 2, 50-58]

In 1985 I took a job working as a clinician in the streets of Boston. I was working
with people who are often described as homeless. My role was to develop
connections with the people I met. Working in the street necessitated a change in
my approach to working with the people I had come to think of as clients.

One change was that I could no longer expect people to come to me. Not only did I
have to go to them, I also had to find out where they were. I looked in abandoned
buildings, vacant lots, abandoned cars, shelters, detoxs, bars, alleyways;
anywhere I thought I might find someone looking for help.

Along with having to search for clients, I also had to change the way I thought
about our interactions. I could no longer count on seeing people more than once.
These folks werent calling up and making appointments. I might meet someone
one week and not see them again for months, or ever. I no longer had the luxury of
thinking a conversation could happen once a week for several months.
Consequently, I began looking for ways to extend conversations beyond the limits
of my physical presence.

Letter writing was a tradition I had been exposed to through my interest in narrative
ways of working (White & Epston 1990; Freedman & Combs 1996; Zimmerman &
Dickerson 1996) .

As a narrative therapist working in an office, I had been using letter writing as a
way to extend conversations with people beyond our fifty-minute sessions. The
letters I wrote in more traditional contexts became topics for ongoing sessions.
These letters conveyed questions I had that I had not been able to ask in the
session, or thoughts that had arisen after the client left my office. In most instances
they were a part of an ongoing process.

The relationships I developed with people who lived in the street were different
from the ones Id had with people in offices. We didnt meet regularly. They didnt
have addresses. I would find someone and share some of their life with them, then
they would be gone.

It occurred to me that letter writing might be a way to continue these conversations
as well, even if they couldnt continue in person. It occurred to me that I could use
letters to share with the recipient some of my ongoing questions. I also thought I
might use the letters to document aspects of peoples lives that stood outside of
the despair and hopelessness they might be experiencing.

What follows are examples of the sort of letters I wrote. Out of respect, I have
changed some of the details to mask the identities of the recipients. There was one
ground rule that I followed in the writing of these letters. The rule was that I would
always ask the person if it would be okay for me to write to them about
conversations we had had. I was concerned presenting people with letters without
asking for permission to write down their words might seem intrusive. As it turned
out, no-one ever refused, and my suggestions and letters were consistently met
with much excitement and enthusiasm.

You will also notice that each of the letters is written in a narrative style. For me,
the narrative style of letter writing includes externalising problems, tracing the
history of the problem, bringing back to people ways in which talking to them has
affected my life, and attending to exceptions to the problem-saturated narrative.
Connected to this last idea is the idea of documenting those parts of peoples lives
that are consistent with their preferred ways of being. These are aspects of their
lives that they have been able to stay connected to in spite of the influence of
problems.

I used quotation marks to indicate words and phrases that came from other people
or the person to whom the letter is addressed. Quoting what people told me was an
attempt to stay connected to their expertise about an issue, and not take over by
rephrasing things as I would have written them. I included quotations from other
people in an attempt to share the expertise of others and remove myself from the
position of the one with the knowledge. It was my intention to share the experience
and knowledge of others, thereby supporting the development of letter-based
communities of concern. I hoped that these people who are so often without
anything to hold would have, at the very least, a letter.


A letter to David

The first street letter I wrote was to a man named David. The conversation I refer to
in the letter happened behind a hedge in the midst of a busy city intersection one
hot day in early summer. It was a spot people used as a refuge for drinking and
sleeping. David had been there the previous night, and when I caught up with him
he was already intoxicated from a morning of drinking.

We talked for about an hour. During our conversation I mentioned the possibility of
a letter. He was interested. I wrote the letter later that day when I got home. I
delivered the letter the next time I saw him. It was about one week later. I found
him in the middle of an abandoned lot. He was with a group of people. He was
quite surprised to see that I had actually written the letter. Not wanting to
embarrass him in front of his friends, I gave him the letter and left.

This is what I wrote:

Dear David,

I just wanted to write you this letter to thank you for helping me realise what a big
deal it is that you guys who live out there help each other out. To tell you the truth,
in my years of doing this work I have usually thought about you guys helping each
other out as a way to avoid looking at what is going on for you. Many times I have
seen people who really seem to need detox spending all their time trying to get
other people into detox. I always focused on why they werent trying to get
themselves help. You have helped me realise that there is a lot more to helping
each other out than I knew.

I used to think it was part of what alcohol did to keep you from thinking about your
own situation. To take the focus off yourself. Now, thanks to you, I think of helping
each other out as a caring part of who you are. It also seems like a part of you that
alcohol hasnt been able to touch. It was also really helpful for me to realise that
you guys helping each other out is one of the things that keeps me aware of the
part of you that is fighting against alcohol. As I said on Tuesday, I want to support
these parts of who you are.

As a part of supporting these parts of you I wanted to ask you how you have kept
alcohol from getting you to not take care of each other. It seem like alcohol would
rather isolate you guys from each other and have you not helping each other out.
How is it that you fight this part of what alcohol wants? What is it about you that
doesnt let alcohol rob this part of you?

I also want to remind you of some of the things we talked about and tell you about
some questions that occurred to me after I left. Along with your words about
helping each other out in the street, I was also struck by your talking about how
youre better than this, and what you are capable of, and about how you choose
to stay alive because death is too final and that you want to have the choice.

I really appreciate your sharing these parts of yourself with me. As I told you, I think
about these things as parts of who you are that are different from what alcohol
wants you to remember. I was wondering about how you remember these things
when alcohol doesnt want you to. How do you keep in mind that you are better
than this? How do you remember what you are capable of? How do you keep
alcohol from making you forget that you can do anything?

We talked a little about who in your life supports your thinking that you are better
than this. Are there people along with your uncles that know about this part of
you? What would they say about what they know about you and what you are
capable of? How would they explain your ability to remember these things even
when alcohol doesnt want you to?

I was also really struck by your saying what a bad job alcohol does at dulling your
pain. I also remember you saying that you thought it would be hard for people to
care about you. I was wondering how alcohol has tricked you into thinking that it
would be hard to care about you. I find it very easy to care about you.

Well thats it for now. Again, thank you for helping me understand your helping
each other out in a different way. Also, I want to tell you again that I want to
support the parts of you that remembers that you are better than this and capable
of anything. I hope we can continue to talk about these parts of who you are and
how you keep alcohol from convincing you to forget about them.

Sincerely,

Joel

Seeing David some weeks later he thanked me profusely for the letter. He told me
he kept it with him, and often re-read it as it had become a source of support for
him during his days in the street. I was happy to hear that the letter was of value to
him. It was heartening for me to know that even in my absence I might be one of
his allies supporting his knowledge that he was better than this.

I saw him only once more. At the time he had just left the program and was looking
for housing. He thanked me again for the letter and said he would love to sit down
and talk about helping each other out, and the other questions I had asked him.
Sadly, we never had the chance to have that conversation.


A letter to Andrea

I wrote this final letter to a woman I had talked to many times. I have included it
because it is an example of how I closed some of the letter-based conversations I
started in the street. It also represents a narrative style of closing as it is filled with
ongoing questions and the possibility of continued connection.

Dear Andrea,

Im writing this letter for a couple of reasons. One is because I dont think I will see
you again since I am leaving my job in Quincy at the end of June. I will be moving
to California to start a new job. Before I go, I wanted to say goodbye and thank you
for some of the things you have taught me. I also want to leave you with some
questions our work together has brought up for me.

Recently I had a conversation with one of the other folks on the street. He helped
me understand how the fact that you folks help each other out isnt necessarily
about taking the focus off yourself. He helped me realise that helping each other
out is part of who you are that alcohol hasnt been able to take away from you.

You have been a part of this learning, too. Your concern about your friends out
there now seems more like a reflection of a positive part of you, not some form of
denial. So I want to ask you - What is it about you that keeps alcohol from robbing
that caring part of you? How do you keep hold of that in the street when alcohol
convinces you to forget a lot of other positive things about who you are?

I also want to thank you for letting me into your life around the time when your
mother died. As you know, my father died around that time as well. It was so
helpful for me to see someone else in a similar situation. I was so impressed with
how you pulled yourself together and stood up in the face of a lot of peoples
negative expectations about how you would act. You sure proved wrong those who
doubted that you could make it through that time in your life. How did you stand up
in that way? How did you keep alcohol from convincing you that the only way to
deal with the pain was to get drunk? What was the thing about you that kept you
going? Are there other people in your life that wouldnt be surprised about that
thing that kept you going during that time? What would they say about that part of
you that helped you during that time?

It has been a pleasure to know you during these past years. You have taught me
that intelligent, resourceful, creative, and caring women can get caught by alcohols
tricks. You have also taught me that even when alcohol convinces people that
living in the street is a reasonable alternative to living life without alcohol, there are
still parts of people that alcohol cant touch. I am really interested in learning how
you keep alcohol from taking everything away from you? How do you keep from
giving up?

Some other people I have spoken with, have talked about realising that they are
better than this, and that they know what they are capable of. They tell me that
their self-preservation keeps them from giving up. Is this part of what keeps you
from giving up? Are there other things you would name that keep you from giving in
to alcohol? Do you know that you are better than what alcohol wants you to think
about yourself? We have talked about your work in the accounting. How do you
keep alcohol from making you forget about that and what you are capable of?

Before I close I want to be clear about the questions I have asked you. I ask the
questions I ask because I really want to know how you hang onto these positive
ideas. I also want to keep the ideas like self-preservation up front and in the open
while alcohol tries to make you forget about them. I hope this is clear and helpful to
you.

Finally, I want to thank you again for all you have given me. I will miss you. I know
you will continue to be able to keep alcohol from robbing all of your life from you. I
will always be one of the people who supports those parts of you that alcohol
hasnt taken away. If you want you can contact me at the shelter through to the end
of June, or Tri-City Mental Health in Medford after that. Peace to you.

Sincerely,

Joel


Epilogue

After working in the street for a while I began to notice that there were certain
items, like a leather jacket or a specific hat, that became valued commodities.
These items would be taken from one person and appear on another, only to be
stolen again and transferred to still another person. The hat or jacket would thus
circulate throughout the community.

I was shocked to learn that the letter I wrote to Andrea had become such an article.
It had been stolen from Andrea by another woman, and eventually someone had
taken it from her. It was circulating and being read by many people. (Hearing this I
provided Andrea with another copy.) Though I was saddened to hear about the
theft, I was struck by the value that could be placed on something as simple as a
letter. It was in fact the theft of Andreas letter that prompted me to write this paper.

Hearing of the theft it occurred to me that letter writing was not only a useful tool
applicable in a variety of different contexts, but it was also highly valuable to the
letter recipients. I hope others will be encouraged by the response of the people I
wrote to, and consider using letter writing in contexts that exist outside more
traditional clinical environments. It is clear from my experience that this practice
can have powerful effects on peoples lives.


Note

1. Joel can be contacted c/o Lesley University, 7 Mellen street Cambridge, MA
02139. Email: jgwixon@aol.com


References

Freedman, J. & Combs, G. 1996: Narrative Therapy: The social construction of
preferred realities. New York: Norton.
White, M., Epston, D. 1990: Narrative Means to Therapeutic Ends. New York:
Norton.
White, M. 1997: Narratives of Therapists Lives. Australia: Dulwich Centre
Publications.
White, M. 1996: Re-authoring Lives: Interviews and essays. Australia: Dulwich
Centre Publications.
Zimmerman, J.L. & Dickerson, V.C. 1996: If Problems Talked. New York: Guilford.

Copyright Dulwich Centre Publications 2000


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