Men With a Mission: Getting 3 Rs on Track

In many ways, George Velasquez is an old man at 34. An alcoholic who also had a cocaine habit, he bumped along life’s road, leaving along the way a 15-year marriage and two young daughters. He lived in Los Angeles, San Francisco and in a little farm town outside Bakersfield, and he was many things: a janitor, a porter, a grape picker, a manual laborer.

While a prisoner of alcohol and drugs, which at its worst forced him onto the streets without a buck in his pocket or food in his stomach, Velasquez knew he was caged by more than chemicals. It was his dark secret, shared with only a few. Even though he graduated from high school, he couldn’t read or write.

Now, through a program operated by the San Diego Rescue Mission, Velasquez not only is learning to read books and write sentences, but in many ways he now is a young man at 34, one who sees life beginning anew.

“All my life I’ve been hidden in darkness,” he said Friday as he sat in an office at the Rescue Mission, 1150 J St., in the heart of Centre City East, where the sight of homeless men wandering the streets or lying on the sidewalks is commonplace.

“I was a zero reader. Now I can actually pick up something and read it. All I could do in math was add and subtract, now I can divide and multiply. . . . I have new doors opening up. I never thought about me getting away from the mop or not being a dishwasher.”

For almost 35 years, the Rescue Mission has provided homeless men downtown with a place to sleep and eat through its well-known rehabilitation program. Although the program emphasized support, discipline and self-reliance based on Bible teachings, it became clear to mission officials that many men in the program needed another boost.

“We try and take care of the spiritual life,” said Richard L. White, men’s program director and chaplain at the mission. That alone wasn’t enough. “We realized what was lacking was basic education. It didn’t do any good if they couldn’t fill out a job application, and they were back on the streets.”

Along came Gardner Farwell of Literacy Volunteers of America, and thus was born the education program, started from one-on-one tutoring to, as of June, the equivalent of a one-room schoolhouse for homeless men.

The men are part of the Rescue Mission’s rehabilitation program, but they aren’t required to take the education classes--ranging from English and math to speech and science--held two hours a day, five times a week.

About 40 of the 104 men who live at the mission go to class, and 10 are now in college, taking classes at nearby San Diego City College, with another 10 set to go next semester.

The turnaround for these homeless men--some of whom were dependent on drugs and alcohol, had low confidence and poor communication skills--has been, in varying degrees, remarkable. As Velasquez explained, a man has to face why he is homeless, decide he needs and will accept the mission’s help and then confront his educational shortcomings.

“I used to feel ashamed that I couldn’t read or write, but I don’t any more. That’s because of the program,” Velasquez said.

The program’s goal is to “get them to the high school diploma level,” said White. “The idea is to give them an option, give them the ability to handle a paycheck, figure out deductions and budgets.”

That task has fallen mainly on Farwell, who is helped by teacher Alex Townsend. Farwell, who is a contractor, has been involved in teaching adult literacy for 12 years. He’s a volunteer at the Rescue Mission, but he puts in nearly a 40-hour workweek that includes classroom teaching, preparation and grading papers.

The challenge has been to teach both those who can’t read or write and others who, although homeless, may have been to college and now need to brush up and regain confidence. As a result, while some in the classroom are learning elementary math, others are grappling with trigonometry.

“What we have is a one-room schoolhouse,” Farwell said. “Sometimes it’s difficult to find things that are interesting for everyone.”

Several men have warmed to a “speechcraft” class supported by the Toastmaster Club of Chula Vista, and people such as Velasquez are now giving speeches in front of audiences of 400 people. The group has its “graduation” Thursday. Other outside groups have helped as well.

Both the Sweetwater Union High School and San Diego Unified districts have provided the program with textbooks, and White and Farwell are now looking for more teachers and equipment, such as rulers, compasses and computers. As spartan as the program might be, it has been successful, as illustrated by student Albert Jay Eckels.

A one-time heavy user and seller of cocaine who later turned to crystal methamphetamine, Eckels was on the streets when he finally turned to the Rescue Mission a year ago. Next month, he will begin taking English 101 and Math 54 at San Diego City College while still living at the mission.

“At one point in my life, I knew college was out for me,” the 24-year-old said.

He dropped out of high school in Tucson when he was 15 to work for his father, a contractor. “I had a lust for money,” he said, and, with a steady paycheck and new pickup truck, he looked down on those who were still in school.

Drugs, though, were his undoing. He snorted as much coke as he sold, but it was a precarious balance. Caught by his father as he immersed himself in a large pile of the drug set out on a table, he lost his job but not his habit.

One night, he was supposed to sell an ounce of cocaine.

Instead, he kept it, and, at the age of 17, he was forced to leave town, riding the rails, a young hobo who, from Santa Monica to Las Vegas, rarely was able to scrape up enough money to get off the streets. In between, there were other drug rehabilitation programs and stints in jail.

Now, though, Eckels believes he has a chance to turn his life around. With much praise for Farwell, who he said has “taught me how to study,” Eckels says he knows he was foolish to disdain learning.

“I was uninterested in learning then. Now, when I’m in the classroom, I’m listening with my whole self,” he said. Eckels isn’t sure what he wants to do with his education, he’s thought about returning to construction and maybe going into management. But then again, he’s in no rush to choose, and the opportunities seem endless.

“I don’t know what I want to do,” he said, “but I know this is a step in the right direction.”