Lazy. Unreliable. Unwilling to work. As you read these words, who comes to mind? For many of us, the answer is shaped almost entirely by silent observation: people holding signs on street corners, sleeping in tents on sidewalks, or standing outside shelters. It is easier to look away and tell ourselves, "That could never be me." I confess that for most of my adult life, this was my perspective, and I often thought, "Someone should do something about it." Sound familiar?
In 2018, I met a woman working for a nonprofit organization whose mission is to connect individuals experiencing homelessness with long-term employment opportunities. Call it divine intervention, fate, or simple coincidence, but that same morning, traffic downtown was particularly bad, even by Seattle standards. I spent the better part of 10 minutes at a near standstill in front of her organization's facility, watching dozens of people enter individually and leave in small teams wearing PPE, clearly with some kind of purpose. Intrigued, I toured the facility a few weeks later, agreed to join its board of directors, and quickly learned how wrong my silent observations and assumptions had been.
Meanwhile, we have all seen countless articles about the critical shortage of qualified and capable workers affecting virtually every industry, and maritime in particular. Technical conferences and conventions regularly include panel discussions promoting the idea of proactively reaching and recruiting future generations. Trade organizations host industry days and training programs to introduce high school and even elementary-age students to the wide variety of opportunities the maritime industry has to offer. These efforts are important and necessary parts of the long-term solution to the workforce shortage. But even in a best-case scenario, it will be five to ten years before they produce significant results. Until then, where will the maritime industry find the sizable pool of capable, reliable, working-age adults it needs now? Is it possible that one crisis can be part of the solution to another?
Through my board role, I was surprised to learn that most people become homeless because of financial instability, not drug addiction or mental health challenges. Job loss, medical expenses, and rising rents are primary causes that can quickly compound. I also learned there are countless smaller challenges that seem simple to address until the day you find yourself on the street. It is truly shocking how many of the clean, sober, healthy, and capable individuals I have met struggle to find and hold jobs due to relatively minor, easily solvable issues beyond their control. Where do you get glasses to read and complete a job application if you don't have insurance or hundreds of dollars for the exam and frames? Without a cellphone or internet access, how do you check your shift schedule from week to week? Where can you shower and wash your clothes before going to work? If your car breaks down and you can't afford to fix it, how do you get to work? These are just a few examples.
Numerous nonprofit organizations across the United States are working tirelessly to help individuals address these barriers. For example, established more than 100 years ago during the Great Depression, Uplift Northwest provides vision exams and glasses, laundry and shower access, protective workwear, and job referrals at no cost to participants in its four-week workforce readiness program. Graduates are motivated, reliable, prepared, and eager to accept entry-level positions that offer on-the-job training and career growth.
Can partnerships with organizations serving people experiencing homelessness solve the U.S. shipbuilding workforce crisis on their own? Likely not. But with a reasonable investment of compassion, cooperation, and willingness, I believe they can have an immediate, high-value impact throughout our industry.
