I pondered that question at about 11:30 p.m. on a Friday
night in June, while attempting to fall asleep on my cot in the basement of a
church I had never set foot in previously, where I served as an overnight
volunteer for Project Home.
Project Home provides emergency shelter for children and
their families in Ramsey County, by arranging sleeping accommodations and
breakfasts in the basements of churches and synagogues. The overnight chaperone
socializes with the families before bedtime, tries to get a little sleep
overnight, and awakens early to offer the parents and children food before a
bus arrives early to take them to a day program.
While chatting on the church steps until the mandatory 10:00
p.m. bedtime, several of the parents smoked, and the secondhand smoke caused me
to cough a few times – yes, even in the fresh air. Later on, pondering the
effects of the smoke on the kids kept me awake.
An article in the July 18 issue of The New England Journal
of Medicine notes that, “Although the prevalence of smoking in the
United States has declined, vulnerable and marginalized groups continue to use tobacco
at high rates.” The article points out that smoking-related deaths among
homeless people occur at a rate twice as high as the rate among people in
stable living situations.
Unique challenges do exist with respect to reducing smoking
among homeless people – such as above average nicotine dependence, psychiatric
conditions, and histories of abuse and trauma, in addition to lack of health
insurance which limits access to smoking cessation services.
Yet, my experience that Friday night convinced me we must
make reducing smoking among the homeless population a priority.
A 9-week-old baby staying at the shelter, who appeared
healthy for the most part, had a raspy wheeze. And despite the fact he had
seemingly very loving, caring parents, they were heavy smokers. His mother said
that a nurse informed her that tobacco smoke could cause wheezing. I tried to
remain supportive, nonjudgmental, so I mildly affirmed the nurse’s comment, even
while I choked back my emotions.
A 30-something father talked with pride about his 12-year-old
daughter, who accompanied him to the shelter. She had earned all A’s and B’s at
school during the past year, despite the lack of housing stability and despite
some stressful events involving racist taunting, which she had to endure. The
girl demonstrated athletic ability out on the sidewalk. Her father, who smoked
several cigarettes that evening, said that she wanted to play two different
sports, but her asthma prevented her from engaging in prolonged and intense
physical activity. Might the severity of her asthma have some connection to his
smoking? I tried to understand why the girl’s father was unable to make the
connection between his daughter’s asthma and the smoke he blew around her.
The children in these shelters are precious resources. We
know that their environments – family and community – will significantly shape
their health; environmental influences of many types will literally
add/diminish years from their lives. (See, for example, our report on “the
unequal distribution of health”.) So, at a minimum, we should perhaps seek
to transform the adage that “your right to swing your fist ends where my nose
begins” to “your right to blow smoke ends where a child begins to inhale.”
In 2004, Minnesota State Representative Marty Seifert
proposed that welfare clients who smoke cigarettes should have a reduction in
their benefits. As the StarTribune reported, his proposal “drew laughs and
criticism from Teresa Nelson, legal counsel for the Minnesota Civil Liberties
Union. ‘That's pretty wild,’ she said. ‘Certainly, giving up the right to put
legal substances in your body should not be a condition of qualifying for
government benefits.’”
Well, giving attorney Nelson the benefit of the doubt, I
attempted, to no avail, to identify some justification for her assertion. Smoking
typically appears as a condition affecting the cost of life insurance, for
example. So, what socially responsible value or principle should inhibit government from taking a life-saving approach
for adults and their children, saying: “If you do not smoke, you will receive X
amount of dollars, but if you do smoke, you will receive less”? That approach
would put pressure on people to engage in behavior which protects their health
and the health of others, and we could evaluate its effectiveness.
Financial rewards and penalties constitute just one
approach. We probably need multiple approaches, given the complexity of the
issue – addiction, psychiatric illnesses, etc. In the case of homeless shelter
volunteers such as me, even some coaching about key messages, what to say when
a shelter resident lights up a cigarette, might help. Perhaps you have thoughts
to share?
In the final analysis, though, we must not deal with this
problem by ignoring it. I concur with the authors of The New England Journal of
Medicine article, who conclude strongly that we must “change the culture of
complacency that has enabled our acceptance of smoking as an inextricable
aspect of homelessness. Though the challenges of addressing tobacco use in this
population are many, we believe that ignoring this issue is no longer
justifiable — and that the conversation should shift away from the question of
whether to address smoking among homeless people and toward the question of
how.”
2 comments:
I've been very fortunate to have never smoked even though everyone else in my family did. As a teenager, I would stuff a towel under my door to keep out the smoke - not to avoid lung cancer, necessarily - but to avoid smelling like smoke to any teenaged boys.
I still remember the presentation about smoking made to my fourth grade class. The presenters passed around a big jar with lungs in them; pink and healthy in one and black and yucky in the other. We were given the wig of a woman who smoked to smell. We were shown the yellowed fingernails of a smoker. That presentation made a HUGE impact on me; perhaps we could have something like that set up in shelters. Fourth grade was a LONG time ago for me but....I remember it very well.
While I applaud taking a brave stand on the harm of smoking on children, I am a former smoker (not homeless) who could not stop - but dearly wished to stop - and not even the presence of an adored child in my home could overcome the addiction that I could not control. What finally did the trick from me was the prohibition at work. I couldn't do my work (not enough breaks in the day), I couldn't find another job (all of them non-smoking), and I feared homelessness as a result. I do not believe that reducing payments will be a sufficient motivator (and how would this be enforced?), and I certainly don't think penalties toward any health behavior should be applied only to the homeless. Nicotine is a powerfully addictive drug, but I believe that all drug offenses are best handled through 'treatment' education. To the point that it harms children, we cannot impose penalties on our poorest citizens that we do not impose on our richest.
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