Fear. Money. And a story of a community’s brush with opportunity

A homeless woman has become a source of controversy in downtown Arlington Heights. I do not know her and know nothing of her background.

I have however walked alongside mental illness and homelessness for decades. I have lived with it in my family. In addition, I have worked closely with and advocated for individuals with biological no-fault brain illnesses and listened to the stories of many people living with this condition.

So, I am concerned about how the Village of Good Neighbors will manage this sensitive situation.

Meanwhile, I ask you to imagine a woman based on people I have known and loved. Let’s call her “Joan.”

Joan was once a hard working, educated and beautiful person. Over a period of time, Joan developed a biological brain illness. Joan didn’t realize there was a chemical imbalance inside her brain. Her symptoms presented slowly as unfavorable changes in behavior, both disruptive and combative. Her friends began to shun Joan because they thought that it was Joan’s true behavior, not symptoms of an illness. Alone, Joan continued to be consumed by more symptoms. Joan thought she was fine and perceived everyone else as being disruptive. She’s was slowly drowning in the symptoms of a no-fault disease.

Once a stylish dresser and practitioner of good hygiene, Joan didn’t realize that she had not bathed or brushed her teeth in days. She didn’t pay her bills on time as she used to. Joan was eventually fired from her job because, once a celebrated employee, she could no longer perform her duties. Her income disappeared. There was no one to recognize she needed medical treatment followed up with therapy. No one to help her fill our forms for disability.

Laundry and trash piled up in an apartment that was once impeccably clean. The neighbors complained. Joan had hallucinations and imaginary conversations. Her landlord gave her notice. Then an eviction notice. She was eventually locked out of her home late at night. Once a vibrant contributor to her community, she was now wandering alone in that community. Meanwhile, her “friends’” gathered at a bistro for cosmos and talked about how odd Joan had become. No one cared enough to discuss it further. Another round of cosmos!

One day, Joan gravitated toward a park bench in front of a high-rise in the downtown area of the affluent suburb where she lived. People living in the high-rise, many of whom attended church services, didn’t see the true Joan. They saw a person seeking a handout who just needed to snap out of it and pull herself up by her lazy bootstraps. They just wanted to be able to walk out of their luxurious apartment complex and not be bothered as they went to buy their mocha lattes at Starbucks.

The residents complained to the village. The village council was divided over what should be done about Joan and others who congregated at that bench. Irrational fear ruled the day. One trustee actually posited that an ordinance prohibiting loitering would be a tool for law enforcement (i.e., criminalizing homelessness) and thought that might inspire Joan to snap out of her illness and get motivated enough to get help, illustrating how little he knew on the topic of biological brain illnesses. The same trustee was more concerned about the image of the downtown area being tarnished. Money. Bottom line.

Another benevolent trustee saw it for what it was, an opportunity. An opportunity to rise above other suburbs by assisting those who don’t even realize they are sick. To become a shining example of what can happen when folks join together as a community to help others. Exploring options for doing just that.

Sadly, the board eventually decided to kick the can down the road for another month. After all, it was summer, a time to stroll the downtown area with one’s date and enjoy alfresco dining and cocktails and shop. Important. Money. There seemed to be lots of money for erecting high rises and trendy restaurants, but nothing available when it came to helping their own citizens get the help they don’t know they need. (Even the local hospital wanted to close their in house behavioral health center. Money. Bottom line.)

What will happen to the Joans of the community in the meantime? Will this town frame its actions as an opportunity for service, or criminalize and stigmatize them for being sick?

Stay tuned.

• Louis S. Guagenti, of Arlington Heights, is a board member of his local chapter of the National Alliance On Mental Illness.