How to live well
Fish slider/Copyright Living Well
The last time I saw him was the only time the man with the tattoo on his neck looked me straight in the eye. He took the bag of food from me and said: “Don’t take this wrong the way, but I hope I never have to see you again.”
Each Friday afternoons in a hall in South East London about 90 people gather together for lunch. They form a diverse bunch, including musicians, retired GPs, former journalists and headteachers, veterans of the Gulf wars, gardeners, builders, artists and people recently released from prison. Many, like the man with the tattoo on his neck, are temporarily unemployed. One third are homeless, others are struggling with alcohol or drug addiction, with long-term unemployment, debt or mental health problems. What brings us together is a small charity called Living Well.
Living Well – a community foodbank and drop in centre in South East London – began as a result of a growing number of people turning up at the local vicarage asking for food and advice. As the numbers grew, local people began donating to a food cupboard which is now a fully-fledged foodbank, providing nearly 3,000 bags of food a year.
Living Well aims to be a community where people feel valued and cared for. There are no paid staff – the foodbank, community lunch and other activities are run entirely by volunteers. Activities come and go according to the skills of those who turn up. One woman brings her sewing machine along each Friday and sets up in a corner, mending clothes and sleeping bags for those sleeping rough. Two art therapists run an art group, encouraging conversation alongside drawing and painting. Another volunteer – a cook – runs cooking classes, while another listens to and writes down the stories that people choose to reveal.
As the community has grown, so have our partners. The local drug and alcohol service run detox sessions before and after the meal, and job centre staff run a monthly benefits clinic. A local homelessness charity meet clients over lunch, finding it a safer, warmer, more welcoming place to meet than the places where their clients sleep. We’ve reached out to local supermarkets, with mixed success – as a grass roots project, run by volunteers, we can’t always meet the expectations these behemoths set before they will donate unsold food.
There have been lots of lessons along the way. As we grow, we struggle with the balance between putting in place structure and form, policies and procedures and maintaining the informality, friendliness and spontaneity which draws people in.
We never expected August to be our busiest time at the foodbank, but it’s the time when families turn up, seeking food for children who don’t receive free school meals in the summer holidays. The type of food preferred is simple, filling and comforting – corned beef and instant mashed potato being some of the most popular. Tins of artichoke hearts or packets of chick peas are generous donations, but aren’t suitable for a meal which might be prepared with only a kettle and a saucepan. Instead, toilet roll or washing tablets are more useful.
Most of all, we have realised that behind the need for food is a greater yearning – for friendship, company and conversation. The food is often a way in, but the malaise we are really tackling is not hunger, but social isolation. A recent survey among the people who come to Living Well highlighted the need for community, in a society where often the vulnerable and the needy get overlooked. One person asked us to keep going, and “to keep that integrating force of community life rather than be over-labelled and organised.” No fear of that so far.
Loved the article Claire well done on being a part of Living Well. Also like to say to Dames net I’ve enjoyed reading the articles and wishing you many more happy birthdays love helen xxxx
This is one of the most moving and yet also uplifting pieces I have read about the power of community spirit.