Inner-City Smell-O-Vision (by Bart Campolo)
No words can really communicate the essence of what we are doing here. For that, you'd need Smell-O-Vision.
In case you didn't know, Smell-O-Vision was a system developed in the 1950s that released odors during the projection of a movie so that the viewer could actually smell what was happening onscreen. Thirty years later, cult filmmaker John Waters tried the same thing with scratch and sniff cards. In both cases, the idea was to take advantage of the scientific fact that smell is easily the strongest and most vivid of our senses when it comes to processing emotional experiences. If you've ever smelled something and had memories you hadn't thought of in years come flooding back, you know what I'm talking about.
What you may not know, however, is what the scent of urine in a hallway tells you about a low-rent apartment building, or what the combination of cigarette smoke and baby formula on an infant's blanket tells you about a family, or what cheap liquor on an addict's early morning breath tells you about the rest of their day, or maybe the rest of their life. These are some of the smells I'm learning these days.
I know a few already. At the grocery store the other day, I didn't even need to turn around, let alone ask any questions to be sure the man behind me had no house, no car, no job, and nobody looking after him. What I needed instead was the intestinal fortitude to talk with him like a friend even though he was mentally unstable, and to offer him a ride to the soup kitchen even though it would take half a day to get his stench out of my van.
I know marijuana in the afternoon air means I'm going to have to answer a lot of bizarre theological questions from my street corner buddies Richie and Big Mike. I know the smell of mold and too many cats means helping a friend pass her Section Eight housing inspection is going to take more than a morning, and the smell of an open electric oven means we might as well not bother because her lousy slumlord still hasn't fixed the furnace. And, unfortunately, I know the smell of fecal matter coming out from under a dirty set of clothes means it doesn't much matter how skillful I am as an after-school tutor.
There are wonderful smells here too, of course – ammonia in the spotless kitchen of a single mother with two jobs, soul food in a neighborhood restaurant, talcum powder on the older church ladies, my warm house at the end of a long day – but not nearly enough to cover the others. If you are highly sensitive in that way, like my wife Marty, how much you can love poor people sometimes boils down to how long you can hold your breath.
There is more to it than that, though. As I said earlier, smelling things is probably the most powerful way that we feel where we are and what we're doing at a particular moment in time. No wonder a hospital administrator recently told me that his boss devoted an entire staff meeting to making sure their hospital smells as clean as it is, in order to subconsciously instill confidence in their patients' families. For better and for worse, smells communicate things that words just can't.
The bad smells here do not instill confidence at all. On the contrary, what they communicate is a deep, visceral sense of neglect and decay and futility that threatens to overwhelm this whole neighborhood and our hope along with it. So then, when I tell you that my dream is to motivate and organize folks to clean things up around here, you can rest assured I mean that quite literally. We have plenty of souls to soothe, to be sure, but we also have bodies to bathe and clothes to wash, basements to clean out and houses to renovate.
I know we can't change everything in our poor little neighborhood. Honestly, my best guess is that we can't even change very much. But even on my most dismal days, when the odors of brokenness around me are more than I can stand, I believe we can, at the very least, leave some places and some people around here perfumed with the sweet smells of care, healing, and hope. After all, most of those smells are simply a matter of soap and water, hammers and nails, and meat and potatoes.
In the meantime, since you don't have Smell-O-Vision, or Odorama, or probably even a good aroma therapy kit, I guess you'll have to take my word for it that loving poor people can be an awfully smelly business. Then again, maybe not. Maybe you just know a different set of smells than I do, because you are trying to love a different kind of poor people. I hope so, because I suspect that at least part of the reason God calls us to all this smelly loving in the first place is so we aren't completely knocked out when we're the ones who stink.
Bart Campolo is a veteran urban minister and activist who speaks, writes, and blogs www.bartcampolo.com about grace, faith, loving relationships and social justice. Bart is the leader of The Walnut Hills Fellowship www.thewalnuthillsfellowship.org in inner-city Cincinnati. He is also founder of Mission Year www.missionyear.org, which recruits committed young adults to live and work among the poor in inner-city neighborhoods across the USA, and executive director of EAPE, which develops and supports innovative, cost-effective mission projects around the world.
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[I know we can't change everything in our poor little neighborhood. Honestly, my best guess is that we can't even change very much. But even on my most dismal days, when the odors of brokenness around me are more than I can stand, I believe we can, at the very least, leave some places and some people around here perfumed with the sweet smells of care, healing, and hope. After all, most of those smells are simply a matter of soap and water, hammers and nails, and meat and potatoes.]
Thanks, Bart. Yesterday the local sermon was on John 9 (the healing of the man born blind). I am struck with our tendency to ask "who's to blame?" instead of "how can I share God's love in this situation?", and our refusal, too often, to see the commands of our Lord Jesus as really being from God. Keep inspiring us Bart!
Igor
Posted by: Deryll | February 25, 2008 11:43 AM
Bart,
thanks for such a clever and inspiring piece. And knowing you write from Cincinnati makes this former Buckeye farmboy and perennial Reds fan just a little homesick.
RIP Bob Howsam
Posted by: carl copas | February 25, 2008 12:29 PM
Thank you for a post that I think most nurses can relate to.
There are a number of things that make nursing difficult, one of which is caring for people who offend us in some way – those who smell, those who have substance abuse problems, those who verbally abuse us, those who have “done this to themselves.” Many of us see the worst of what humanity and life on this planet has to offer. Most of us learn healthy ways to cope with these challenges; some of use very unhealthy means to cope – myself included.
There has been a lot of research into a phenomenon that is called ‘horizontal hostility’ in nursing – that is, we are our own worst enemies. The most frequent sources of abuse nurses suffer are patients, patients’ families, and doctors, but the worst abuse comes from other nurses. It took me many years to learn to deal with horizontal hostility, but for about half of my nursing career I questioned whether or not I wanted to stay in nursing because of the abuse I suffered from other nurses.
I bring this up as a comparison to Christianity. We are commanded to love those who are the most difficult to love – our enemies. We have to rely on each other for support, just as nurses do, but we also suffer abuse from other Christians. We are judgmental, we like to believe that we are more ‘spiritual’ than others, we believe we have the most accurate or even the only correct interpretation of God’s word and that is impossible for others who disagree with us to know God’s will. We become our own worst enemies. Is it any wonder the secular world seems to have so much disdain for us?
We need look no further than this blog for examples. Some of the posts I read here really stink!
Seek peace and pursue it.
Posted by: neuro_nurse | February 25, 2008 12:34 PM
[We need look no further than this blog for examples. Some of the posts I read here really stink!
Seek peace and pursue it.]
neuro
Some comments do really stink; as do some of the responses to those comments.
My wife is an RN and some of the worst stink she puts up with is from me. Keep the faith!
Igor
Posted by: Deryll | February 25, 2008 12:46 PM
Interesting. Taken a little further, we could probably work out an olfactory version of the "broken window theory." In other words, I suspect the smells themselves are a large part of the demoralization of poor people.
Posted by: I and I | February 25, 2008 12:54 PM
There has been a lot of research into a phenomenon that is called ‘horizontal hostility’ in nursing – that is, we are our own worst enemies. The most frequent sources of abuse nurses suffer are patients, patients’ families, and doctors, but the worst abuse comes from other nurses. It took me many years to learn to deal with horizontal hostility, but for about half of my nursing career I questioned whether or not I wanted to stay in nursing because of the abuse I suffered from other nurses.
If you want an opinion from someone who gets to see it regularly, I kind of agree with you, but I have a theory about it. Let me disgress a bit to try to make sense of it, though.
Is there a smell of death? I swear there is. I worked in a nursing home in my younger years, and I came to recognize a certain smell, one I knew wasn't the janitorial chemicals, or the "odorcide" machines strategically placed. It wasn't the fermenting stench from the laundry carts sitting in the laundry greeting the morning laundry staff, either.
I recognized it in other nursing homes I've been to over the years since that first one. It is imprinted on my mind, as solidly as are the faces of my children, my wife, my parents.
Almost nobody chooses to be a nursing home. Almost everyone in it wishes they were somewhere else. Sometimes that somewhere else is in a grave, even.
Day after day, week after week, year after year, decade after decade, the people who live there and don't want to be, often turn that resentment towards the staff.
But nurses, foodservice, housekeeping, doctors, administration... They have this continual bombardment of negative reactions. No, I'm not saying that everyone is mean, rude, or endlessly angry, some are, though. But just knowing that they wish to not be there is enough...
As professionals, you cannot reflect this, you have no real outlet for dealing with this unending negative environment.
Now, mind you, I use nursing homes as an extreme example. But there's hospitals where most people come to die. Or where the incurable children wait out their days. There are also hospitals where people come only when bad things happen.
And there's a few places where you can work where babies are born, miracles take place, and you know that you're really doing something great.
But for all the rest, like that "death smell", there's an imprint on you. There's those negative things that you have no outlet for dealing with appropriately, it appears to me that many, many people find themselves jaded, cynical, and often hostile toward caring or being personally 'available', perhaps as a defense mechanism against the palpable ugly that passes around them.
And it gets directed toward co-workers.
It's a theory, from first hand observation. It may be right or wrong, but if you're in the business, deliberately finding an outlet and using it is, I think, imperative.
My wife comes home, and lets it go sometimes. I recognize it. I listen. I let her vent. I understand, I have experience to know why.
But how many do not? I think perhaps you have a possible idea of who they are and what happens.
Posted by: The Watcher | February 25, 2008 1:02 PM
Bart thanks for taking the time to write this piece . I found it inspirational. Don't let the enemy make you think your not doing enough . Your doing more then most , and you are inspiring , not condemning .
Posted by: Mick | February 25, 2008 1:15 PM
nuero_nurse,
I agree with you in part,but let me add something. As a pastor who has worked with the "least of these" I've have often been on the other end of that judgement. We've helped people dig out of the most desperate situations, helping them through the consequences of poor choices (sin). In the process we deal with additional bad decisions and pleas for forgiveness. It's all part of the ministry. Here's the kicker, often these people will be the most judgemental when there is a mistake perceived or otherwise. This is why many people don't last long in innercity ministry. Wounded people have a tendency to lash out. Hopefully this gives everyone an even greater appreciation for those who reach out to the poor.
Jeff
Posted by: Jeff | February 25, 2008 1:31 PM
Deryll, et alia,
I tried to use inclusive language throughout my post – I include myself among those who are judgmental and abusive – both in my behavior in this and other forums and in my workplace as a nurse. Each of us face challenging situations and none of us are perfect.
Watcher,
Is there a smell to death? I suspect so, although it is probably subliminal. Blood has a smell that I doubt most people recognize. I also suspect that the visual cues, and to some degree, auditory cues of impending death are much more predictive than olfactory cues. (Several months ago there was an article in the New England Journal of Medicine about a cat living in a nursing home that avoided people, except those who were within a few hours of death)
As I alluded to above, I not only recognize negativity and callousness in my colleagues, but also in myself. As a recovering alcoholic, I tend to have more patience and compassion for my clients with substance abuse problems, a trait that I often see lacking in many of my colleagues. There are certainly patients with whom I am less than compassionate and situations in which I respond poorly.
As Dirty Harry said, “A man’s got to know his limitations.” I believe it is incumbent upon us as Christians to recognize our own weaknesses before we expend the least amount energy making note of the weaknesses and failings of others – but that’s hard to do, isn’t it? We’re human, and Christ recognizes that. Hebrews 4:15
Regarding death, it is a part of life, and can be a beautiful transition from this life to the next, but as a culture, we do not accept death. We are horrified by it, we deny it, we make death ugly and we deny the beauty of death to those whom we love the most. There are those, even among the most devout Christians, who think that any day above ground is better than being below the ground (even thought the Bible tells us otherwise). Usually, those are the people standing next to the bed, not those in the bed.
Jeff,
I started my nursing career in a county hospital, and other than the year I spent in Ethiopia, I have always worked in inner city hospitals (suburban hospitals scare me). I also know that often when people lash out it is not a personal attack, although it seems like one at the time, the recipient just happens to be standing there at the time, or is a transient source of frustration for a person who lacks adequate coping skills. I think that realizing that is essential to longevity in nursing and ministry. Again, it’s human nature. We prefer to recognize or seek fault in others rather than acknowledge our own. I can assure you, we are no better than those who wound us.
PX
Posted by: neuro_nurse | February 25, 2008 2:18 PM
I am going to take this comment a little deeper than I normally do and if you the reader has a problem w/ that you might want to skip this comment.
Is there a smell of death?
Yah I smelled a decomposing baby a few weeks ago. It sticks with you after that. I don't say that truth to point out the reality of death. No one needs that to see the death in our culture, whether poor or rich.
I loved this post for several reasons. One is that it was freaking real, it was honest and it did not sugarcoat anything. I loved this post because it spoke of enduring hope in the midst of tragedy and loss. I loved this post because it showed the reality of systemic injustice. The reference to the slum lord and other practical injustices are things that many of us never see. It's good to hear that we have the power to make changes in that for the least of these. If anything that scent, the scent of love is for more powerful and the wonderful then the smell of feces, death, or an oven.
p
Posted by: Payshun | February 25, 2008 2:41 PM
Smells. I remember a City inspector coming into one of the buildings we had newly rehabbed in our low income community, conversion of an old school into apartments. He said that he could smell cabbage cooking in the hallway and that was not acceptable. The code required smell free hallways. I said that I thought the smell of my neighbors menu was a good, friendly smell and that was what community was all about. Strange rules.
Posted by: Mary Nelson | February 25, 2008 2:45 PM
neuro_nurse,
Agreed, the frustration is being cut off from these people who come so far. Many times they may be looking for an out to go back to the old life. The important thing for those working with these people is to not take the blame personally in those cases. People will scapegoat and then go out and literally destroy themselves. This can weigh heavy on those only hoping to serve. God bless those who continue to serve.
Jeff
Posted by: Jeff | February 25, 2008 2:49 PM
“As professionals, you cannot reflect this, you have no real outlet for dealing with this unending negative environment.”
If that were true, no one could survive working in health care. We absolutely must find “outlets,” as you call them, coping mechanisms is a more appropriate term. Some of our coping mechanisms are healthy (as soon as I post this I'm going for a nice long bike ride on this beautiful afternoon in New Orleans), some are not – that’s one of the reasons there is a high prevalence of substance abuse among health care workers – including physicians, and again, including myself (9 years of sobriety without relapse - thanks be to God!).
“And there's a few places where you can work where babies are born, miracles take place, and you know that you're really doing something great.”
I become a nurse to work in Africa. Contrary to the persistent negative attitude I hear from people in this country regarding Africa, it is not hopeless, Africans are not doomed to live in poverty and in poor health. Having worked in Africa I can tell you that my efforts there seem to me to go much farther than the work I do in this country – more bang for your buck, if you will. Once I finish my MPH I plan to go back to Africa to do the work to which God has called me.
PX
Posted by: neuro_nurse | February 25, 2008 2:57 PM
"Many times they may be looking for an out to go back to the old life."
I strongly disagree!
As a recovering alcoholic I can tell you that no one wants to go back to their previous life. People relapse because they lack the resources to prevent themselves from doing so. Those resources come in many forms – the spirituality promoted by 12-step programs, people in their lives to support them, and access to a better way of living.
Yes, it’s frustrating to detox a patient – to watch them go through the horror of withdrawal – and then see them again a year, a month, a week, or even days later using again. I know that a lot of people disagree, but those of us in the medical profession consider (or should consider) substance abuse a disease, and the abuser is not to blame for her or his disease. Yes, they had a choice to start using or not, as I did. We live in a culture where substance abuse is promoted and glorified. The addict loses the choice.
An interesting note to this is that Ethiopia is about 45% Orthodox Christian, 45% Muslim. The Muslim communities in Ethiopia are much healthier than Christian communities. One reason is that Muslims generally don’t smoke, drink, chew chat, or enlist the services of ‘bar girls.’
Salaam alaikum.
Posted by: neuro_nurse | February 25, 2008 3:09 PM
(sweaty after a windy bike ride)
Let me clarify what I wrote above.
The rewards of substance abuse are immediate and tangible, much more tangible than either the rewards of sobriety or the consequences of the substance abuse which, by the way, the person with the substance abuse problem is more keenly aware of than anyone around her or him – denial is an essential component of substance abuse.
Getting high is easy, and for the user, it’s familiar territory – we get to hang out with our using buddies, be cool, be part of the group, maintain our status or social networks, but most importantly, the pain goes away.
Staying clean and/or sober is hard work, and no one works for anything for which she or he does not see a value. I can tell you from my own experience that shortly before I quit drinking my own life had little value to me. One way or the other that is the end of the road.
I wrote above that the people who relapse lack adequate resources. Seeing oneself as having value is a resource, and as ridiculous as it may sound to you, it is a resource that the addict lacks.
It took several years for me to recognize that it was Christ who valued my life. No one could tell me that, Christ had to show it to me himself. I would not have believed it otherwise. Our Lord knows that about me and chose to be patient with me. More so than any human ever could.
PX
Posted by: neuro_nurse | February 25, 2008 5:00 PM
[I tried to use inclusive language throughout my post – I include myself among those who are judgmental and abusive]
neuro
As am I! Praying that we may all continue logging. Thanks for your insights. Bless you as you continue in your calling.
Grace and Peace
Igor
Posted by: Deryll | February 25, 2008 5:31 PM
neuro_nurse,
I guess we will have to disagree on this point. My experience is that the pull of old addictions is the biggest obstacle for recovering addicts. Like the children of Israel going back to the flesh pots of Egypt. This has been my experience.
I agree with you on Africa. My limited work there sounds similar to yours. My work has been in Liberia. Hope doesn't die there. At the same time peace is always tenuous. Not AIDS or Malaria, the big killer in West Africa is tribalism. We are saving up for our next trip.
Jeff
Posted by: Jeff | February 25, 2008 8:19 PM
If you really wanted to clean up the inner-city you would have dropped the guy behind you at the grocery store off at a mental institution instead of a soup kitchen.
Posted by: DontImmanentizeTheEschaton | February 25, 2008 8:58 PM
"I remember a City inspector coming into one of the buildings we had newly rehabbed in our low income community, conversion of an old school into apartments."
City inspectors are the most useless people on Earth, in terms of accomplishing whatever purpose might hypothetically justify their salary.
Posted by: kevin s. | February 25, 2008 9:00 PM
"City inspectors are the most useless people on Earth..."
My goodness, you sound like a New Orleanian!
Posted by: neuro_nurse | February 25, 2008 10:58 PM
"My goodness, you sound like a New Orleanian!"
Where, of course, they've done wonders.
Posted by: kevin s. | February 25, 2008 11:43 PM
Just wanted to say that I thought this post was so creative - what a brilliant way to make us feel what it is to work with the urban poor - not glamourous at all - but worth it. Must admit to being like Bart's wife, and too sensitive to smell, so very glad God has placed us here in rual NE Brazil, where folk mostly live in the open air, and are amazingly clean, given the paucity of water (it is semi-arid here).
But still, there are times when you need all God's enabling - turning over a dead baby to dress it, several hours after dying in 40C heat...or taking stitches out of a man's chin, who is sweating profusely with fear and has a mouth full of rotten teeth...
Thank God that He DOES give grace.
Posted by: Daveen Wilson | February 26, 2008 8:38 AM
"Where, of course, they've done wonders."
For the time being, I'd rather be nowhere else than New Orleans. Besides, living here is a great way to prepare my dear wife for life in a developing country.
PX
Posted by: neuro_nurse | February 26, 2008 12:41 PM
I like your reminder that we ourselves may be the source of the greatest stench. We don't notice our own smell so much of the time, because we're used to it.
Posted by: lomagirl | February 26, 2008 3:54 PM
Bart, I like your ideas, your actions, and I like your views on what a loving God is like and what she requires of us. Thanks.
Posted by: Ed McCartan | March 1, 2008 11:12 AM
Once again I am struck by the sanctimony of this blogger. Poor people smell? And you're so holy to put up with it? It is ofensive and mean to even speak of someone's odor let alone write about it and try to elevate yourself as some martyr for the desperate and the poor. If anything stinks around here it's this blogger. He reeks of egomania.
Posted by: DG | March 4, 2008 12:59 PM
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