A Night Living in Penn Station

At night, New York City’s Penn Station closes, but it’s far from empty. In this excerpt of Man in the Mirror: Hope, Struggle, and Belonging in an American City at The New Yorker, Anand Giridharadas profiles Lisette Lojo, a social worker with the Bowery Residents’ Committee, as she and her team attempt to help unhoused people to secure shelter that matches their specific needs. The team scours the facility at night doing wellness checks, carefully building the rapport and respect they need to help keep people safe without compromising their rights or their dignity.

Lojo nodded her percussive, patient nod. Christian was not in danger, but she relied on these extended conversations to evaluate whether someone had “decompensated”—declined psychologically—since she had last seen them, maybe even to an extent that merited forced transport to a hospital for evaluation. Christian was talking about how airplanes to the island weren’t safe. There were guns, knives, razors. Lojo continued to listen and nod.

Now Christian provided an opening. They really could use a shower. They weren’t interested in shelter, but a shower would be great. So would clothes. Could Lojo help them get pants with a thirty-one- or thirty-two-inch waist? Lojo said that the morning team could bring them clothes. They could go to a facility where they could wash and change and feel fresh. Christian liked this plan. On her tablet, Lojo noted the general area where she had encountered Christian—Tracks 20 and 21—and typed instructions to her team. By the end of the night, B.R.C. would record thirty-four contacts with potential clients and, of those, twenty-three who agreed to accept services.