Dallas' The Bridge Homeless Center's Progressive Approach May Actually Make a Difference

"He is a street fighter and a scrapper, and he will stand up for the poor, the homeless and the discriminated-against," adds Charles Ray, former president of the National Council of Community Behavioral Health Care, and a friend of Faenza's. Ray describes Faenza as being so driven by the big picture that he sometimes gets in his own way. For example, Faenza once missed giving the keynote lecture for one of Ray's national conferences because he was late. "He is so possessed with ideas that there are times when you want to say, 'Mike, I am going to give you an aide. Just like a general. I want to give you an aide de camp that takes care of the details.'"

Over the past year, Downtown Dallas, a business advocacy group promoting downtown, has worked to make downtown a more disagreeable place for the homeless. While the group has long supported The Bridge and will provide security personnel for the facility, it also views the new center as a means to get the homeless off the streets and panhandlers out of the faces of downtown residents, workers and visitors. Last year, Downtown Dallas lobbied the city council to pass an ordinance that prohibits panhandling after sunset, if within 25 feet of an ATM or bank, a pay phone, a self-service car wash or a fuel pump, a DART stop, or an outdoor cafe. It's also illegal to ask someone for money who is putting coins into a parking meter. "It flies in the face of making downtown a live, work and play place," explains John Crawford, the organization's president. Offending vagrants are typically jailed and then released, only to be incarcerated again later. But now, Crawford says, with The Bridge opening, "We'll have a place to take them."

Not so fast, says Faenza. As part of the "guest services" culture at the center, it's essential that nobody be forced into the facility, nor be given a take-it-or-leave-it choice between jail and The Bridge. If The Bridge is equated with punishment or consequences, it won't help. "There must be some kind of misunderstanding," Faenza says, noting that he's had several conversations with the police, the county, and with Downtown Dallas regarding his hopes for treatment of the homeless. "People see homelessness as someone unpleasant asking them for money. Blaming people and bullying people doesn't work on any level, not for me."

With the opening of The Bridge, Downtown Dallas expects the city to expand the panhandling ordinance to outlaw the practice altogether. Crawford says he has a "gentleman's guarantee" with the city that it will do so.

When asked about any change in protocol, the Dallas Police Department says its officers won't behave any differently. "When [The Bridge] does open, it is not going to change anything," says DPD spokesman Sergeant Gil Cerda.

Although Faenza sees the futility in breaking ties with Downtown Dallas, he is against expanding the panhandling ordinance or the forced placement of the homeless in The Bridge. It's better, he says, to work together. "I've tried to say what is right, to the point where people trust me. Would I want to talk to John Crawford and say, 'This is terrible, this doesn't work. This is bad news?' It's not appropriate for me to say this to John Crawford. We have the same goal. He's not a black-hearted guy. We both have strong values. And we want our partnership to have movement."

If the partnership can move forward, Faenza, Rawlings and The Bridge may be on the cusp of creating "a national prototype" for homeless shelters, says Ray. "If it can work in Dallas, it can work in a lot of other places."

It's a Thursday afternoon, five weeks before the center is scheduled to open. Faenza places a hard hat on his head and strides toward the back entrance of The Bridge. Just three blocks away from the Dallas Farmers Market, the center towers over its neighboring buildings. The Bridge has the feel of a university; five brick buildings encircle a courtyard. The most prominent one has a clock tower and a rotunda that will operate as a cafeteria; meals will be provided by the Stewpot, one of Dallas' oldest soup kitchens. Faenza crosses through the quad area, where construction workers are laying rebar, and he reaches the center's main entrance, a grassy area flanked by two concrete columns. Soon, a sign reading "The Bridge" will hang between them.